“Marla, come and see this,” Jennifer, the young stylist, said from the reception area. “Someone sent you flowers.”
At the next station, Nicole's eyebrows lifted. She paused, comb in hand, in the midst of doing a haircut. “How romantic! Dalton must know how frazzled you are with almost two weeks to go to the big event. He's so sweet.”
It's more likely he's trying to make up for the other night when I caught him in the restaurant with another woman, Marla thought.
She glanced at the wall clock. It was only four o'clock. Two more hours to go before she could call it quits. At least Dalton had promised to take charge of dinner. She couldn't wait to tell him about her interviews with Eddy and Kevin.
As soon as she finished her blowout, she hastened to the front desk on which stood a glass vase with a spray of pink orchids and glossy greenery. A small card nestled on a stick.
For some reason, a shiver of apprehension scuttled up her spine. Dalton had never sent orchids before. Usually, he was a straightforward roses kind of guy.
Plucking the card from its perch, she schooled her face into a mask of pleasure while opening the envelope. Inside, bold printed letters met her stunned gaze.
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS OR THE NEXT FLOWERS WILL BE FOR YOUR FUNERAL
Her smile withered and her blood ran cold. Realizing Jennifer was waiting for a flippant comment, she gave a strangled laugh.
“Aren't these delightful? I'll have to show the sender my special appreciation.”
Jennifer chuckled. “You're so lucky, Marla. Dalton is a real gem. I envy you.”
“Don't,” she said in a harsher tone than intended. “I mean, flowers and chocolates and gifts don't count as much as actions. It pleases me more that he's making dinner tonight. Did you see who delivered these?”
The blonde's nose wrinkled while she thought hard. “Now that you mention it, I didn't see a logo on the van.”
“What did the driver look like?”
“I dunno, he wore a cap and just sort of dumped these on the counter. Isn't there a company name on the card?”
“No, there isn't.” Shoot, she should stick the card into a plastic bag so Dalton could check it for fingerprints.
“Leave these here for now. I'll take care of them later. Meanwhile, I'd better get back to work.”
Gingerly stuffing the card back into the envelope, she held the latter by a corner and hustled to the storeroom where she scrounged for a sandwich baggie. After depositing the card inside, she stuck the sealed bag in her purse and proceeded to her next customer.
At fifteen minutes past seven, she finally pulled into the driveway at Dalton's house. She'd had a last-minute add-on and didn't finish until an hour past her expected time.
“We were just going to sit down to eat without you.” Dalton turned toward her in the kitchen. He stood by the stove, wearing an apron and stirring something in a pot.
She sniffed garlic and tomato sauce. Standing on her toes, she gave him a quick kiss. “I'll be right back. I have to get something from the car.” She dumped her purse on the counter then wheeled around.
A few minutes later, she plopped the vase near the sink. “These were delivered to me at the spa today. Everyone thought they were from you. I didn't tell them otherwise.”
He turned down the burner. “I wouldn't send orchids.”
“I know.” She told him what the card said and watched his gaze darken. “It's in my purse in a plastic bag.”
“Smart girl. So who do you think they're from?” He turned toward the hallway. “Brie, dinner is ready.”
“Be right there,” the teen yelled back.
Marla waited until they were seated and devouring their whole wheat spaghetti with Dalton's homemade sauce and turkey meatballs.
“Well,” she said between bites after asking Brie how her day had gone, “Philip Canfield comes to mind immediately. He's a florist, after all. But that's too obvious.”
“Falcon Oakwood?” Dalton sipped his glass of cabernet. “You said he was there when you visited his wife on Monday. Maybe he didn't like you snooping into his affairs.”
“Yeah, but he doesn't seem the type who'd toss a bomb through my salon window. I have a hunch the orchid sender is the same person.”
“Didn't you look into the property records, Dad?” Brianna cut in. “I thought you found out something about the land deal for Orchid Isle.”
“Right.” Dalton swallowed. “Oakwood got the island for a cheap price. I contacted the tax assessor's office in Miami and got more details.”
“So we know the land had once been a toxic waste site, and that Falcon got it for a good price. Did you find out if it had ever been cleared by the environmental agency?”
Dalton shook his head. “Sorry, that information wasn't available.”
“How convenient.”
“So maybe Falcon sent you this bouquet as a warning to mind your own business,” Brianna said. Her dark eyes filled with concern. “Marla, I don't want you getting hurt. Maybe you should back off and let the police handle things.”
Marla glanced at Dalton, an ironic smile on her face. How many times had he told her the same thing?
“Don't forget, Jill's cousin Kevin and her uncle Eddy were involved in that transaction. Besides Falcon, they'd want to preserve their reputations, too.” Marla told them about her trip to Miami. “I didn't mention what Kate had said about Kevin being mixed up in mortgage fraud.”
“Good, because you've already stirred the hornet's nest,” Dalton said morosely. “Two women are dead, and you're not going to be number three if I have anything to say about it.”
She took a gulp of red wine, fortifying herself for what she had to say next.
“Uh, I didn't tell you about Griff.” Both Dalton and Brianna shot her questioning glances. “You know, Griff Beasley, the photographer from Boca who worked with Torrie and Hally. Please don't get mad at me, but I met him for drinks the other day. I wanted to ask him about Grant Bosworth.”
Before Dalton could admonish her, she rattled off what she knew about Rachel, the documents she'd received from the girl, and the connection between Griff and both victims.
“And you went to see him alone?” Dalton shouted, half rising from his chair. “Are you nuts?”
She held out a hand. “Relax. I didn't think he would do me any harm. Someone hit him on the head at the lagoon in Coral Gables, remember? Hmm, I seem to recall Alexis, Eddy's wife, telling us that's where they live.”
“Oh, no,” Dalton growled, his gaze boring into hers, “you are not going off by yourself again to interview Alexis.”
“Why don't both of you come with me then? I want to revisit Orchid Isle and talk to the staff. We need more information on that waitress who disappeared. And actually, it was Alexis who told us that she'd seen Jill washing her hands in the bathroom. That meant Alexis had left the party for an interval also.”
“I'd love to go to the park with you,” Brianna chimed in. “Can we go on Saturday? And speaking of activities, Marla, isn't there something you want to ask Dad?” She blinked meaningfully.
“Oh. Yes.” Marla beamed at Dalton. “Your daughter wants to take acting classes. I think it's a fun idea. She can learn all sorts of useful skills, including public speaking. Right, honey?”
“Sure, if you say so. My friend, Ashley, has signed up. The session starts in January at a studio in Davie.”
A frown creased his brows. “Dare I ask how much it will cost? And then there's the matter of transportation.”
Marla waved at him. “We'll work it out if you approve.”
“Please, Dad. I thought I might join the drama club next year, but I don't have any experience. All my other friends have more activities than me.”
“Let me think about it, okay?” He glanced at Marla. “In the meantime, let's go to Orchid Isle this weekend. I wouldn't mind scouting around while we're admiring the trees. But I'll draw the line at intruding on Eddy and Alexis at home.”
“
Good, that's settled then.” Marla knew he'd come around. Scraping her chair back, she started collecting the dinner dishes.
“One more thing.” Dalton fixed his gaze on her. She knew that look. It heralded unpleasant news. “While you've been running around town for your friend's benefit, I've discovered something you're not going to like.”
Her heart sank. “What's that?”
“Jillian Barlow has a criminal record.”
“What?”
“This goes back many years, but she'd been arrested on a kidnapping charge. She abducted some guy's daughter.”
“I don't believe it.” Her throat tightened. She knew Jill kept secrets but surely not something as bad as this.
“Apparently, the man dropped the case, although I don't know why. My guess is they recovered the girl, and she was okay. But it gives Jill a motive for killing her sister if she didn't want her new husband to learn about it.”
“Then why murder Hally?”
“Because Hally found out what Torrie knew. It makes perfect sense. I hate to say this, but it's possible Jill could be the killer.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
* * *
“I'm going to prove you wrong,” Marla said to Dalton during the drive on Saturday morning. “Jill may have a shaded past, but she isn't a killer.”
Marla still smarted from his accusation, especially because she had her own doubts. Finding evidence to the contrary would confirm her faith. She knew Arnie would do anything for her, and she'd been his friend way before Jill had come along. She owed it to him to learn the truth. Yes, Jill was hiding something, but it wasn't murder.
At least, she hoped not. Loyalty might be one of her virtues, but it could also be her blind spot. Well aware she could be wrong, she focused on the task ahead.
Peering out the windshield, she rolled her shoulders that bunched with tension. Dalton drove with a relaxed look on his face as though he hadn't a care in the world. She resented his attitude. Why should she worry about every little detail when he could be so blasé? But perhaps that's what had drawn her to him. He provided the calm eye in the midst of her hurricane-force life. She needed his steady rudder.
“What?” He caught her glance in his direction.
She smiled. “Nothing. It just feels good to be out with you and Brianna. Once we're past the wedding, maybe we can enjoy more days off together.”
“Yeah, like that'll happen,” Brianna piped up from the back seat. She'd been texting messages on her cell phone. “You guys must be the busiest parents I know.”
“Would you rather I sit around the house, cook dinner, and clean all day?” Marla twisted her neck to regard the teen.
“Not really. You have a cool job. It makes you who you are.”
“Exactly.” She gave a nod of affirmation. She'd tried the housewife routine with Stan, and it hadn't worked for her. They had gotten their divorce less than a year later, for more reasons than one.
“Don't think I'm gonna want to go with you all the time,” Brianna added. “I have friends. Once I get my driver's license, you won't be seeing much of me.”
“God forbid.” Dalton raised his eyes to heaven.
“It's not that far off.” Marla poked him. “You'd better hire a driving teacher. I can't see you as her instructor.”
“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He hunched forward, clearly uncomfortable talking about his daughter's future behind the wheel. “So besides taking a nice walk today, what are our objectives?”
“You're the detective,” Marla replied, aware he'd blithely changed the subject. “You tell me.”
“Brody has already questioned the staff, so we need to approach this from another angle. You're good with people. What do you suggest?”
“Why don't we say we were at Jill and Arnie's affair, and we're thinking of renting the hall for our own occasion? Or else we're gathering info for my hypothetical friend who's getting married. I used that excuse when I went to see Philip Canfield, the florist. He supplies flowers for Falcon's house as well as the gardens here.”
“That guy gets around.”
“Leanne thinks very highly of him.” Hmm, he'd struck her as gay, but could she be wrong? Might Leanne's interest go deeper?
“So we're looking for details on Orchid Isle's history.”
Marla's thoughts jolted back to the present. “Plus, we want to know about that waitress, if anyone's heard from her again. And if any of the staff noticed someone in the corridor between the kitchen and the ballroom right before Torrie died.”
“Don't forget the napkin,” Brianna cut in. “There weren't any prints on the knife handle. The guilty party had to ditch the item he used to clean it off.”
“Did anyone take plastic gloves from the kitchen?” Marla sagged against her seat. “I imagine Brody has been asking the same questions.”
Dalton gave her a playful punch on the arm. “You manage to get answers where detectives fail. We're counting on you to use your feminine wiles.”
Her mouth lifted at the corners. “So be it. Wouldn't want to lose my reputation.”
They'd chosen to come after lunch, because weddings and other events tended to happen later in the day. Marla approached the ticket lady at the reception desk after they parked and meandered through the front entrance. It was the perfect day for strolling outside: warm, sunny, with low humidity. The parking lot was already full, but she hadn't noted any vans emblazoned with logos for photographers, florists, or musicians.
“Is anyone available from the catering staff?” she asked the thin lady behind the desk, who wore a blue smock. “We need to talk to someone about holding an affair here.”
The lady gave them a proud smile. “You're in luck. They're setting up for a benefit tonight. Ask to speak to Sandy. She's the sales director.”
“Great, thanks.”
After Dalton paid their fees, the lady handed them a park map. “Be sure to visit our new plant emporium. It's just beyond the greenhouse.”
They passed the booth and halted in front of a gift shop. “I need to go to the restroom first. Wait here,” Marla informed her companions.
On her way down the hall, she stopped abruptly. The bride's room was to her right. Had anyone thought to search in there after the murder occurred?
Hoping the door wouldn't be locked, she twisted the handle. No go. It was locked.
She took her time in the ladies' room, admiring the vase of flowers on the counter while she washed her hands. Orchids were among the blooms, making her wonder if Canfield supplied these as well. Why had Jill come into the restroom in the midst of her reception to scrub her hands? Had Alexis's observation even been valid? Or maybe Jill was afraid of germs. She must have shaken a lot of congratulatory hands that night.
Another thought struck, making Marla swallow convulsively. What if Alexis was behind the murders in an attempt to protect her husband? Perhaps she'd discovered Torrie had scandalous information on Falcon, and later that Hally knew about it? Had she done them both in? Remembering the woman's beefy arms, Marla figured she had the strength. Why hadn't she thought of this possibility before?
Rushing outside, she confided her notion to her soon-to-be spouse.
Dalton tilted his head, regarding her with a grin. “Good one, Marla. I hadn't thought of her as a suspect before. It's a stretch, though.”
“Let's go find Sandy and see what she says.”
They located her office off a small corridor that separated the kitchen from the ballroom. A bleached blonde, she glanced up at Marla's knock on the open door. Her face, overly made-up with crimson lipstick and copper eye shadow, reminded Marla of an aging movie star trying to hang onto her youth.
“Hi, may we have a few minutes of your time?” Marla stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. “We're scouting locations for a friend who is getting married, and Orchid Isle looks like the perfect setting.”
“Of course, please come in.”
“I'll be in the gift shop, you gu
ys.” Brianna meandered off.
Dalton followed Marla inside, and they both took seats opposite the woman's desk.
“What's the date of your friend's wedding?” Sandy withdrew a blank form from a drawer. “I'll need to check the availability of our ballroom. I presume that's where she'd hold the reception?”
“It's the first Saturday in June. Her name is Nicole.” Marla noted Dalton's twitch of the lips from the corner of her eye. “She wants the ceremony to start at six, cocktail hour from seven to eight, with a sit-down dinner for the reception.”
“Okay. We have that date available, but she'll have to put down her deposit fairly quickly. June is a popular month for weddings. I'll give you a packet to bring to her.”
“That would be great, thanks.” Marla paused. “We're recommending this place because we were guests at Jill and Arnie Hartman's wedding. Your people did a wonderful job, up until that terrible tragedy. Such a shame their affair had to end that way.”
Sandy's eyes filled with sadness. “I know, and it was our grand opening weekend, too. Not a very auspicious start, huh?”
“How did Falcon Oakwood take it? Isn't he the park's owner?”
“He may be the developer, but he's not responsible for the day-to-day running of the place. Mr. Oakwood has many other projects in the Tri-County area.”
“It was very community-minded of him to turn this piece of land into such a beautiful attraction. What had been here before this?” Marla asked in a mildly curious tone.
Dalton sat twiddling his thumbs as though bored but she knew he'd kick in with the hard questions when ready. She got a swell of pleasure glancing at his broad-shouldered figure. Soon she could introduce him as her husband. A thrill rippled through her at the thought.
Sandy narrowed her eyes, regarding them both. “I think this place was barren before. There wasn't anything here.”
Dalton hunched forward. “I heard talk it was a dumping ground,” he said, his face impassive.
“If that's so, Mr. Falcon has done a marvelous job of reclaiming the land.”
Shear Murder Page 17