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Authors: Nancy J. Cohen

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BOOK: 11 Hanging by a Hair
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She compressed her lips. These workmen could be lying about the permit. Considering how their truck had no visible tag, she’d guess they were fly-by-night laborers willing to do any job that paid cash.

“I’m calling Dalton.” She whipped out her cell phone. “Your stone path also infringes on our property. This is getting out of hand.”

If Krabber didn’t make amends, she and Dalton would be forced to file a code violation. Marla would rather avoid that unpleasantness. Normally, she wouldn’t bother Dalton at work, but this construction had to be stopped before the fence became a permanent fixture.

The UPS truck chose that moment to squeal to a halt in front of Krabber’s house. He stomped toward the front to retrieve a package while she dialed Dalton’s office number.

Fortunately, her husband was available and made it home within twenty minutes.

Krabber had disappeared inside his house with his parcel. She quickly filled Dalton in on the details and then turned to the workmen, who regarded the newcomer with wary expressions.

“Guys, this is my husband, Detective Dalton Vail with the Palm Haven police force.”

The workmen exchanged startled glances. Her words had the galvanizing effect of making them pack up their tools. Wood planks littered the ground.

The foreman rapped on the laundry room door. “Yo, Mr. Krabber. You’re needed out here.”

Krabber waddled outside, his forehead creased. “Are you still here?” he said to Marla.

“Yes, I am. You remember my husband, Dalton.”

“How could I forget? Whaddya want, buddy?”

Across the street, the garage door rumbled open. Jeanie, a stay-at-home mom, emerged outside. She waved at Marla from the driveway, where she appeared with her two children in tow. Marla waved back, offering a stiff grin. Jeanie set out a lawn chair while her kids—a boy and a girl—stooped over the asphalt to draw something with chalk. Watching them, a wave of nostalgia hit Marla. She’d played hopscotch on the sidewalk in her youth.

Her attention swung back to Dalton, who addressed Krabber in a reasonable tone. “The city requires a permit for any type of fencing. Do you have one?”

“These guys say I don’t require a permit for a fence this size.”

“That’s right.” The foreman shot a dark glance at his partner. “And since the last hurricane, you don’t need approval for any work under twenty-five hundred dollars.”

“That’s hogwash.” Dalton shook his head. “No matter the size or the cost, a permit is required. You’re operating illegally if you don’t have one.”

The foreman turned to Krabber. “We want our money, dude. You can settle this after we leave.”

Krabber scowled at him. “I don’t owe you anything. You didn’t finish the job, and our agreement said payment upon completion.”

The foreman’s shoulders hunched. “You’re not thinking of stiffing us, are you? Because if so, I know what you’ve been—”

“Hey, you’ll get paid. I’d planned to go to the bank later this afternoon. Come back tomorrow. We should have this sorted out by then.”

“Are you guys licensed and insured?” Dalton focused on the two men with laser intensity. “If so, I’d like to see that license. You should know better than to put up a fence without a survey or a permit.”

“Sure, we’ll go get it.” Without a backward glance, they hightailed it to their truck, hopped in, and sped away before Marla thought to point out to Dalton the missing tag.

Dalton snorted, as though he’d known their type. Returning his attention to their neighbor, he raised his eyebrows. “How about showing us your so-called ‘survey’?” While waiting for a reply, he folded his arms across his chest and stood with his feet spread apart.

Krabber slipped inside his house through the side door and reappeared within minutes. He waved a document in the air, flicking it at Dalton rather fast. Marla caught a glimpse of an official looking paper.

“Here, I have one. So back off, buddy.”

Dalton remained firm, his face as stony as those round pavers on Krabber’s path. “This fence and that trail extend onto our property. Remove them both, or we’ll sue for compliance.”

Marla tapped his arm. “Dalton, he’s planning to put ficus trees near our boundary. See?”

Dalton’s voice rose. “You’re doing everything you can to decrease the value of our property. And when is that hole going to be filled in, huh? It’s an accident waiting to happen.”

Krabber’s face purpled and his veins protruded. “Lots of folks have standby generators in South Florida. We’re following standard procedure.”

“He’s right, Dalton.” Marla spoke in a mollifying tone as her husband looked about ready to pop out of his skin. “If he agrees to move his fence, get a proper survey and permit, and change the location of those stones, we’ll be satisfied.”

“Don’t think because you’re our association president that you can break the rules,” Dalton said. “I know guys like you. You’ll stomp on anyone who gets in your path. Well, I won’t stand idly by while you make an exception of yourself. No matter what it takes, I’ll see that you comply with the law.”

C
HAPTER
T
WO

“Dalton, what’s wrong with you? Normally you’re the one who calms people in a situation.” Surely her husband had reason to be upset with their neighbor, but usually he kept his cool. Hoping he wasn’t short-tempered because he regretted the changes in his life, Marla strode beside him on the way back to their house.

He must have heard the quiver in her tone because inside their foyer, he spun to face her. “You’re right. I’ve been on a short fuse lately, and I should have told you why sooner.”

Uh, oh.
She swallowed her doubts, waiting to hear him out.

His jaw tightened. “I have a new partner at work.”

“So? That’s good news, isn’t it?” Relief washed through her. Was that all? His tense mood had nothing to do with her or their marriage?

He grimaced. “Not in this case. I’d hoped it might be temporary, and you wouldn’t need to know.”

“Dalton, I want to know everything that affects you. It hurts me when you bottle things up, and then I worry that I’m the cause.”

He shook his head. “Never. You’re my solace and my strength. I didn’t want to add to your burdens.”

Her mouth pursed. “Then don’t keep your problems from me. We’re here for each other, remember? Anyway, I thought you had taken on more administrative duties. Why would you even need a partner?”

“The captain felt we were too short-staffed after Sergeant Weber’s retirement.”

Marla had attended the officer’s farewell party with Dalton, but she still didn’t understand why he’d be disturbed by the assignment. “Is this person anyone I know?”

“Lieutenant Minnetti transferred from another precinct. Katherine Minnetti.”

“Oh.” Her brow folded. “You’ve worked with female officers before, so what’s different this time?” Did the woman’s equal rank bother him? That shouldn’t matter.

“You’ll understand when you meet her.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get back. It’s her first week, and I’m supposed to be showing her the ropes.”

“Give it time, Dalton. You’re good at what you do. You always notice those little details other people miss. She can learn a lot from you.”

His face softened. “And you always make me feel better about things.” He drew her into his arms for a lingering kiss.

Held so securely, Marla wished he didn’t have to leave. She inhaled his male scent, spice cologne mixed with Irish Spring soap, and a warm glow filled her. How gratifying to be involved in his life and to be able to offer comfort. She wanted nothing more than to retreat to the bedroom and show the man how much she cared.

“I’ll stop by code enforcement on my way to the station,” Dalton said, his tone husky as he broke their embrace.

“Will you be home for dinner?”

“I should be. We don’t have any cases right now, so it’s a good opportunity to train Kat and to get caught up on paperwork.”

“All right. I’m sorry to have called you away from your desk.”

Giving her a lazy grin, he stroked her cheek. “Don’t ever be sorry. We’re a team now.”

Her heart sang as she observed his tall figure retreating down the driveway toward his sedan. She shut the front door, her mind turning to the myriad tasks ahead.

With quiet descending over the neighborhood once more, she got a lot accomplished. In fact, it wasn’t until the next day that Alan Krabber again entered her thoughts. She went to take the dogs out in the morning and noticed a rescue truck next door.

Oh, dear. Had the man experienced a heart attack? An accident? Maybe he’d fallen into that dangerous pit in his backyard. As she stood gaping, a police car pulled up to the curb, parked, and disgorged two officers.

Yanking on the dogs’ leashes, she rushed back inside the house to summon her husband. Brianna was in the kitchen, where the heady aroma of brewed coffee scented the air. The teen, spooning cereal into her mouth, glanced up at Marla’s hasty entrance. Brie took one look at Marla’s face and put her utensil down.

“Marla, what’s wrong?”

“Where’s your father? Is he dressed yet?”

“I’m right here.” His tall frame filled the doorway. He wore a sky blue dress shirt tucked into black trousers. He’d brushed his peppery hair off his forehead.

“Something’s happened at Alan’s house. There’s a police car and a rescue truck.”

“Damn.” He patted his pockets. “Where’s my cell phone? I might have gotten a call.”

“It’s probably still on the night stand. Funny, I didn’t hear any sirens, did you?”

“Nope.” He disappeared and returned several minutes later, his face somber.

“What is it?” She put down the dish towel in her hand.

“I’m afraid it’s bad news. Alan Krabber is dead.”

Marla clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, no. That’s impossible. Why, we just spoke to him the other day.”

“That’s horrible, Dad.” Brianna stared at her father.

“I know.” Dalton gave the two of them a cautionary glare. “I’m meeting my partner next door. We’ll conduct a preliminary investigation. It’s routine for cases like this.”

Despite the chills running up and down her spine, Marla’s curiosity overwhelmed her. She wanted to meet the woman but knew Dalton wouldn’t allow her into a crime scene. Wait a minute. Did that mean their neighbor had been killed?

“Was Alan murdered?” she asked in a hoarse tone.

“It appears to be a possible suicide. I’ll know more once I check out the scene.” Dalton compressed his mouth, going into work mode. She could see it in his stony eyes.

Marla’s gut churned. She couldn’t believe Alan was gone. But a suicide victim? He’d given no indication of depression yesterday. He wouldn’t have been doing all that construction without planning to stick around, would he? Then again, how well had they truly known him?

“Guys, I’ll be late for school.” Brie took her empty bowl to the sink.

Marla gestured. “Get your backpack. I’ll give you a ride to the bus stop.” The dogs nudged her, their leashes trailing on the floor. “Poor babies. We really need to fence in our yard to let them out.”

“They can wait a few more minutes.” Dalton’s gaze warmed. “I’m glad you’re here to share these things. It sure makes my life easier. I want you to know that.”

She grinned, pleased by his words of appreciation. “Women are used to multitasking. Look, can you call me as soon as you know something solid? Otherwise, I’ll worry all day.” Good Lord, she hoped they hadn’t pushed their grumpy neighbor over the edge with their argument. She’d already purged enough guilt from her system to fuel a lifetime of regrets.

“It would have to be him.” Dalton rubbed his brow.

Shadows ringed his eyes. He hadn’t slept well. Marla had heard him get up in the night. Used to receiving phone calls at any hour, he often had restless cycles. She’d fallen back to sleep, and this morning she’d awakened to his tall form stretched beside her.

“Good luck, Dad!” Her ponytail swinging, Brie breezed back into the kitchen, her backpack slung over her shoulders. She grabbed her purse from the counter. “Come on, Marla, or Spooks and Lucky will do their business in here.”

Marla drove Brie to the bus stop and then returned home to take the dogs out. Next door, the melee had been joined by a crime scene van. Was that routine too, or did Dalton suspect all wasn’t as it seemed?

Various neighbors emerged, gawking at the scene. Marla caught the narrowed glance of the young mother from across the street. She waved and got no answering response. Jeanie must have gotten an eyeful yesterday, Marla thought with growing concern. How much of their dispute had she overheard?

One of the uniformed officers began canvassing the neighborhood, starting with the woman on the other side of Alan’s house. She, too, was a mom with kids.

At thirty-seven, Marla had no children of her own. She was grateful to have acquired a stepdaughter in Brie, who was turning fifteen this month. More kids weren’t in the cards. Marla had too many things she wanted to do. Instead, Brianna would benefit from their full attention, and Marla could focus on her business, new family, and wish list of travel plans.

Like that will ever happen, she thought with a mounting sense of gloom.

Unable to resist the compulsion, she wandered next door before leaving for work. So she’d be a few minutes late at the salon. Luis, her handsome Latino receptionist, could open the shop.

She approached one of the uniforms assigned to crowd control. Maybe she could coax him to talk or at least tell her who owned the silver Prius in Alan’s driveway.

“Hi, I’m Detective Vail’s wife. We live next door. I can’t believe our neighbor killed himself. Is it true?”

His keen gaze assessed her. “Sorry, ma’am, but I don’t know the details.” His cool tone told her he wouldn’t relate them even if he had been informed. “Would you like me to relay a message to the lieutenant for you?” He put a hand on his radio.

“No, thanks, I won’t bother him.”With a shrug, Marla turned toward the sidewalk.

She hadn’t gotten far when one of the neighbors stopped her.

“I hear Alan hanged himself.” The woman pressed a hand to her chest. “His death will affect the entire community. This is such a shock.”

BOOK: 11 Hanging by a Hair
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