11 Hanging by a Hair (17 page)

“Please call our alarm company. See if they can install an additional surveillance camera back here. Do the same for the day spa.”

“Sure, Marla.” Luis shuffled his feet. “Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but you’re always so busy.” He cast his gaze on the shelf holding coloring agents.

Lord save me, something says I’m not going to like what’s coming next.

“What’s this about, Luis? We have time now.”

“I’m, uh, officially giving you my two weeks’ notice.”

“What?” She had thought maybe he’d ask for a raise.

He didn’t look at her. “I’ve been accepted into Broward College for the summer term. It starts in two months, but I want to take some time off and travel.”

“Oh. Well, that’s wonderful news.”
For you, it is. Not so much for me.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Our customers will miss you.”

“I know. I’ll stop by to say hello now and then.”

Sure you will.
“So you won’t consider working part time, once you begin school?” How would he fund the tuition?

“I have money saved up. I’d rather take a heavy load and finish sooner. And if I do have to get a temp job, it would be in the I.T. field where I hope to work someday.”

“Of course. I’ll let the others know. We’ll have to give you a going-away party.”

He pumped his fists in the air. “A party,
si!
But I’m sorry to give you such short notice. I’ll help find a replacement.”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.”

Her cell phone buzzed. She grimaced as she read a text message to call her mother. Now what? Could this day get any more aggravating?

She waited until Luis left before contacting Anita. “What’s up, Ma?”

“I don’t understand that man. One minute he acts warmer toward me, and then in the next, he snubs me. What am I doing wrong?”

Marla raised her gaze heavenward. “What’s Roger done this time?”

“I invited him to spend Passover with us. You know how he joins us for every holiday.”

I know how he eats two portions at least.
“Sure, so what did he say?” Hopefully, he’d refused, citing a feeble excuse.
Bad Marla. You should tolerate him for your mother’s sake.

“His son’s girlfriend invited him to a Seder with her parents.”

“For the first night?” That was when Marla planned to have her holiday dinner.

Oops, she’d forgotten about it in the turmoil of the past few days. She slapped a hand to her mouth. Was it too late to invite her cousin’s family? Nor had she mentioned the event to Dalton yet.

“Yes, the first night,” Anita said. “I already signed up for the Temple Seder on the second night.”

“So we’ll have one less mouth to feed if Roger doesn’t come.”

“Marla, that’s not nice. This will be the first time he isn’t joining us.”

“Sorry. It sounds as though Barry’s influence is stronger than yours. Maybe you’re better off without Roger if he doesn’t put your interests first.”

“I don’t know why I called you expecting a sympathetic ear. I’ve had a good relationship with him until recently. His sister must have poisoned him against me.”

“Why would she do that when you’ve never met the woman in person?”

“
Ver vaist?
Who knows?”

Marla had her own theories. Barry had courted her at one time, but she’d turned him down in favor of Dalton. Likely, with his new girlfriend, he wanted to distance himself from her. And that meant detaching his father from Anita’s strings.

“Ma, Roger isn’t worth the effort if he acts inconsistent. You can’t rely on him. If it were me, I wouldn’t go chasing after him. Let him stew in his own pot for a while.” Who knew she’d be advising her mother on relationships?

“We’ll see. I don’t want to keep you from work. I’ll talk to you later.”

Marla got busy and was unable to think about Luis, Dara, Herb Poltice, or any of the other things on her mind. That night, she broached the subject of Passover at the dinner table.

“How many people are we talking about?” Dalton asked, seemingly unperturbed about the religious significance of the holiday.

After Marla had counted them off on her fingers, Brianna said, “So that’s at least fourteen people.”

“We can add a folding table to the dining room set,” Marla said.

“I have no objection,” Dalton said, “but why don’t we invite my folks, too? They’ve never been to a Seder.”

“Do you think they’d want to come? I mean, would they feel awkward celebrating a Jewish holiday?”

“Not if they’re included. Besides, you’ll have Easter dinner the following weekend, right?” He grinned at her, the adoring look in his eyes melting her heart.

“Sure, if you wish. Our relatives have to get used to us honoring both traditions.”

Having passed that hurdle, Marla told them about Luis leaving. “I can’t afford to be without a receptionist. It’ll be a zoo if we have to take turns manning the front desk.”

She started interviewing candidates later that week. While she’d been on the Internet researching Native American tribes in the area, she’d also peeked at job-hunting sites. Plus, Luis had rounded up a few applicants.

The first girl was a walk-in who’d seen the sign in their window advertising the job opening. Marla sat outside with her in the set of chairs in front of the salon. Stacey wore a black bustier and mini-skirt with boots, spiked raven hair, heavy eyeliner, and a silver stud in her lower lip that drew Marla’s fascinated gaze. Silver chains dangled from her neck.

“Can you tell me about your job experience?” Marla asked to begin the discussion.

Stacey plopped her hobo handbag on the concrete and crossed her legs. Her mouth worked a piece of gum. “Well, lemme see. I worked as a cashier for a few months, but it got boring. So I switched over to a food market for a while, but I didn’t like shelving products. I tried a waitress gig afterward, but that didn’t work out.”

Marla folded her hands in her lap, reminding herself to be polite. “What are you hoping to gain from this position?”

Stacey gave her a bright smile. “Your place sounds like it could be fun. All I’d have to do is sit behind a desk and answer phones, right?”

“There’s more to it than that,” Marla said, thinking of the myriad duties Luis performed. “How familiar are you with computers?”

“I use them at the library sometimes. Why? Don’t you keep track of things in, like, an appointment book?”

“Our programs are all online these days. Do you have a resumé you could leave with me?”

“Huh? A what?”

Marla winced inwardly. “Leave me your name and phone number, and I’ll get back to you if we’re interested.”

“Oh, sure.” The woman reached into her voluminous bag and withdrew a crinkled business card. “Here, I have this. It’s from where I lived with my former boyfriend, so the address ain’t right. But the phone number is still good.”

Marla stood, not even bothering to offer her palm for a handshake.

Another candidate, a brunette, strode up to Marla inside the salon just after she’d finished a cut and blowout.

“Hi, I’m Amanda Stevens.”

Marla gave her hand a quick shake. Amanda wore her hair in an attractive style, metal-rimmed eyeglasses on her nose. Marla liked the orchid color of her suit but she seemed a bit overdressed, unless this was one interview of many in her day.

“Let’s go outside,” Marla suggested, aware of several pairs of eyes glancing their way.

As soon as they were seated, Amanda pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase. “Here’s my resumé, as well as details of several projects I completed for my former employer. I’m experienced in handling multiple phone lines, and I’m familiar with Microsoft Office, social networking, and other computer programs. You need someone to be proactive in this role, don’t you? Consider me your Girl Friday. I have super organizational skills.”

Marla shuffled through the sheaf of papers while a sense of overkill stretched up her spine. “May I ask why you are applying for this position when you’re obviously so well qualified?”

“I could get my hair and nails done for free, right? It’s not like I can afford these prices on my own. I’m willing to tackle anything.” Her face colored. “Well, almost anything. I wouldn’t want to sweep hair off the floor. Ugh.”

Marla’s lips tightened. “Thank you for coming by. I’d like to look these over, and then I’ll give you a call back if I’m interested in going further.”

Another strikeout, she thought glumly as she pushed open the door to her salon. Luis looked at her hopefully until she gave him a quick shake of her head.

The familiar noises and smells of her salon brought comfort as the afternoon progressed. She was walking to the front to search for her next customer when she spotted a familiar face at one of the nail stations.

“Susan, it’s nice to see you again,” Marla said to the woman who lived on the other side of Krabber’s house.

“Likewise, Marla. I thought I’d try getting a manicure here.”

Marla nodded at the technician. “Linnie is one of our best.” She shifted feet. “Thanks for taking charge of the toys at the garage sale. I really appreciated your help.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. We made out great, didn’t we?”

“I believe so, although Cherry hasn’t tabulated all the results yet.”

“No big surprise, since she was so busy talking to that guy from the protest, and then I saw her with Ron Cloakman later.” Susan held out her other hand for the manicurist to tend.

Hadn’t Gene Uris mentioned his name to Marla? “What business would Cherry have with him?” They had three different builders within the community. Ron was the master planner for the neighborhood. Part of their HOA dues went to his company.

“Something to do with our funds, maybe? As treasurer, Cherry is responsible for the budget.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” Too bad Marla hadn’t met the guy.

“Is anything new with our mutual neighbor?”

Marla glanced around to see who was listening besides the nail tech. “It’s officially a homicide case. They finally announced it on the news.”

“Scary, isn’t it? I wish they’d hire our security guard for the daytime, too.”

“Dalton would like to get involved on the committee. Maybe you could suggest it to the Board. Gene wasn’t too enthusiastic about the idea.”

“I’ll do that, Marla.”

Marla’s next client arrived, and she stayed busy until four o’clock when her cell phone buzzed. Dalton had texted her to call him when she had a free moment.

“What’s up?” she said, squinting in the afternoon sun. She’d gone outside to make the call in private.

“I have bad news.” His deep voice sounded gloomy. “Cherry Hunter is dead.”

“Oh, my God. How did that happen?” Marla clapped a hand to her mouth.

“Her body was found inside her garage. She’d been bludgeoned to death.”

“That’s horrible. Susan Feinberg and I were just talking about her. Who discovered the poor woman?” She thought of Cherry’s kids who would be called home from college. How terrible for them.

“The mailman who happened to be walking by and smelled something peculiar.”

“No one heard or saw anything?”

Cherry’s car headlights would have been on as she parked her vehicle. She could have seen anyone hiding in the garage, so the bad guy must have been waiting in the shadows outside. He’d crept in after she’d parked and rushed her when she came out the driver’s door. But then she would have yelled for help, unless it didn’t happen that way at all. What if she didn’t call out because she knew the killer?

“Did you find the weapon?” Marla forced herself to ask.

“We searched through the tools in the garage but nothing stood out.”

“
We?
Are you assigned to the case? Who’s your partner?” Numbness claimed her. She kept seeing Cherry’s dark hair, unseeing eyes, and painted red mouth open for the bugs to fly in.

“I’m reinstated to my team. The chief feels Cherry Hunter’s death may be related to Krabber’s murder and that I can be a valuable asset.”

“I’m glad for you, Dalton. It’s about time Chief Williams realized you can be useful in that regard.” She ran a shaky hand over her face as a couple of young women sidestepped her and proceeded along to Arnie’s deli.

“You said you were just talking about the victim?” Dalton’s deep voice sharpened her mind and helped her to focus.

“Susan is here getting her nails done. She said she’d seen Cherry talking to Ron Cloakman at the garage sale. Part of our HOA dues goes to his company.”

“I vaguely remember noting that in our homeowner’s documents. I’ll have to check. Didn’t you say Hunter could be related to that Indian guy who staged the protest?”

“Yes, but can we discuss this later? My next customer is pulling into a parking space.”

“All right. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She stayed mute as she went indoors to prepare for her client. Her tongue itched to tell the news to Susan, but she’d have to wait until the police issued a public report. Sometimes it was tough having insider knowledge, but it came with the territory of being married to a cop. Dalton needed someone to confide in, and she served that purpose.

Maybe she could be more helpful. She’d wanted to talk to Herb Poltice, and now that mission became even more imperative.

The police would be sure to talk to the tribal shaman, especially after his altercation with Cherry and his protest in front of their clubhouse. He could be a person of interest in her death as well as Alan Krabber’s. Marla didn’t want to spoil their interview, so she’d have to wait until after Lieutenant Minnetti or Dalton spoke to him.

Now that her husband was back on the case, he might become more tight-lipped about their findings. But that didn’t mean Marla had to be quiet. If she learned anything new after speaking to Herb herself, she’d pass on the info to Dalton. Likely Herb would only repeat what he told the detectives.

When Sunday rolled around, she broached the subject to Dalton during their morning walk. They’d driven down to Hollywood Beach to stroll the Broadwalk and shop in the organic farmer’s market. Brie had gone to a friend’s house to work on a school project.