11 Hanging by a Hair (5 page)

“You’re a what?” Marla gaped at Dalton, but she couldn’t wait for a response. Words bubbled from her mouth. “And since when is it a homicide? You’ve been removed from the case? That’s impossible. It’s your district.”

“Whoa, slow down.” Dalton sank into his favorite chair at the kitchen table. “I’ll tell you what I know if you promise not to speak a word about this to anyone.”

“Sure, Dad.” Brie, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, retraced her steps and resumed her seat. The teen enjoyed the challenge of a puzzle, same as her father. Unlike him, she watched crime shows on television. He was more into the nature and history channels.

Marla leaned against the counter. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? What did you find when you went next door?”

“Krabber was hanging from his second-story balcony. He had a computer cable wrapped around his neck, and he’d left a signed suicide note on his desk.”

“So what tipped you off about that scenario?”

“A number of things. The knot looked wrong, and the angle of his body didn’t seem right. The chair next to the rail didn’t have any footprint impression, which it would have had if he’d stood on it before jumping over. And there’s more.”

“Your observations are important. How can you be excluded from the case?”

“The neighbor across the street reported that she’d seen me arguing with the man. And other people mentioned my complaints at the meeting.”

She lifted her chin. “You had every right to protest. Alan meant to violate the rules.”

“Our late president has his supporters. The chief removed me for conflict of interest. My new partner will take over, and I’m temporarily reassigned to another division.”

Ouch. No wonder you’re grumpy.
“Conflict of interest, not person of interest?”

He leveled his gaze on her. “I used the wrong term before. Conflict of interest is the excuse the chief used, although I could be considered a suspect. No one at the station really believes that. Still, it’s protocol. I’m involved, so someone else has to take over.”

“Do you really think our neighbor was murdered, Dad?” Brianna tilted her head as she regarded her father.

“We’ll know for sure after the M.E. completes his examination and the toxicology results come in. Marla, be prepared to be questioned. Kat may come around and ask you about my whereabouts last night.”

“You were home all night with me.” But how about when she’d awakened and his side of the bed was empty? She had fallen back to sleep and didn’t know when he’d returned. His partner might ask if he could have slipped outside in that interval and gone next door.

“Just tell the truth, and it’ll be fine.”

Shortly thereafter, Marla turned off the oven and donned a pair of insulated gloves to remove the casserole to the ceramic stove top. They muddled through dinner, the teen’s dance class, and bedtime preparations.

When Marla lay in her nightgown later by Dalton’s side, she traced a finger up his muscled arm. “I have faith in you, and so will your colleagues. This storm will blow over.”

“I lost my temper, Marla.” Lying on his back and folding his arms behind his head, he contemplated the ceiling. “I let that man get to me and I blew my stack. It’s not a great beginning to my partnership with Kat for her to hear about it from the citizens of our community.”

“Once she gets to know you, you’ll earn her respect. What’s she like?”

“Tough as steel and just as hard-edged. I can’t read her well enough to know more. She won’t discuss the reasons for her transfer.”

Marla trailed her hand downward, meaning to distract him from his worries and reinforce her claim to his attentions.

“Forget about everything else for now. I love you. That’s all that matters.” She rolled sideways and pressed her lips to his. Their world narrowed until it was just the two of them, and any other reality ceased to exist.

“How can I help him, Nicole?” Marla asked the next morning at work. “Dalton has never been pulled from a case in all the time I’ve known him. This could smear his reputation, both at work and in our new community. It’s even worse with his new partner taking over.”

The stylist’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What’s this?”

“He’s got a lady detective working with him now. I haven’t met her yet.”

“And now she’s working his case.” Nicole blinked. “You want to know what to do? If it turns out to be a homicide, find the killer. You’re experienced at sleuthing. Who else would have reason to want that man dead?”

They both stood by their stations drinking freshly made coffee and waiting for their first customers to arrive. Nicole’s brown eyes sparked as they always did when Marla got embroiled in a murder investigation. Her friend devoured mystery novels as though they were brain candy.

“How can I go about it?” Marla propped a hand on her hip. “I can’t just knock on doors and ask nosy questions. I’m not a cop.”

“No, but use the skills you have.”

She considered Nicole’s advice. “You may be onto something. Our new neighbors are all potential customers. I could offer them an incentive to come into the salon.”

Nicole grinned, showing a flash of white teeth. “There you go, girlfriend. Bring the informants to you.”

Marla gave the other stylist a quick embrace. “I knew I could count on your insight. Listen, don’t repeat a word of this to anyone. I promised Dalton I’d keep my mouth shut.”

“My lips are sealed as tight as a perm wave.”

Their clients arrived, and Marla kept busy until ten-fifteen when Luis approached her. The receptionist stroked his mustache. “Dara is late again, and her customer is complaining. What should I do? She isn’t answering her cell phone.”

Marla glanced at her watch. “Did she know she had a ten o’clock?”

“I reminded her yesterday.”

“See if Jennifer will cover for her. I don’t think she has anyone until eleven.”

“Jen covered for Dara the last time, and she got stiffed for ninety dollars. She had to honor Dara’s discount to the woman.”

Her comb in hand and in the middle of a cut, Marla frowned. “Just see if she’ll do it, okay? I have to talk to Dara. She has no respect for her customers or for the rest of us. Speaking of discounts, Luis, can you make up a couple of hundred coupons for me? I want to stick them in people’s doors in my new neighborhood.”

“I’ll get on it.” His eyes gleamed as he gave her a onceover. “Nice dress, by the way.”

Marla glanced down at her ankle-length maxi. “Thanks. I need to exercise more. My clothes are starting to get tight.”

“In all the right places, I’d say.”

She swatted him on the shoulder. “You’re incorrigible. Go back to work.”

Time flew past until six o’clock when Marla finished with her last client. She called Brie to make sure the teen had gotten home okay.

“Have you heard from Dad?” Brie asked in a plaintive tone.

“No, he hasn’t contacted me.” She wondered what occupied him. Had he been assigned a dull desk job? “I’ll be home soon. I just have one more issue to settle here.”

Marla intercepted Dara on her way to the door. Tote bag swinging from her arm, Dara chewed a piece of gum, her face sullen. Her nose ring quivered with each motion of her jaw. She wore her spiked black hair in a short, boyish style.

“Can I have a few words with you, please? Let’s step outside.” The late-afternoon air was warm but delightfully dry. It would have been a great day for the local park. Folding her arms across her chest, Marla got to the point. “Jennifer doesn’t appreciate having to take your clients when you’re late. This has been happening on a regular basis lately. Not only do you fail to respect anyone else’s time, but your steep discounts put the rest of us at a disadvantage.”

“What are ya saying, Marla?” Dara stuck out her lower lip. “You want me to leave and take my customers with me? ’Cause your place sucks. You have too many rules.”

“They’re simply rules of common courtesy and professional behavior. You’re a good stylist, and you have a loyal clientele. But if you can’t make an effort to get along with your colleagues and show up for appointments, maybe this isn’t the salon for you.”

Dara kicked at a discarded cigarette butt on the ground. “Jennifer doesn’t like me. She’s a spoiled brat, expecting everyone to kowtow to her because she’s your favorite.”

Marla drew in a deep breath to calm herself. “That is so untrue. And this is about you, not Jennifer. It’s your actions that are unacceptable.”

Dara’s lips tightened and her eyes scrunched. “All right, I’ll try to get here earlier. But I don’t like being picked on because I’m not a straight arrow like you.”

What’s that supposed to mean?
At the moment, Marla didn’t know and didn’t care. She just wanted to go home.

“Consider yourself on probation.” She didn’t like treating a fellow stylist like a schoolgirl, but Dara needed to improve her social behavior if she wanted to fit in. Why did the young woman’s customers keep returning when her rudeness extended to them, too? “One more infraction, and we’ll have to discuss your continuation at the salon.”

Fortunately, her stylists worked on commission rather than renting their chairs. It had been her experience that independent operators felt little sense of obligation to the staff as a whole. Marla could have settled for a steady income each month that way, but preferred to have more control. For one thing, she’d rather keep the shelves stocked herself. And by offering continuing education classes and special events, she tried to foster team spirit. An environment where they all benefited from sharing resources encouraged cooperation. Exceptions like Dara disrupted the harmony in what was already a competitive business.

Luis didn’t get around to producing her coupons until the next day. Since Thursdays were her late day at work, it wasn’t until the weekend that Marla got to pass them around. Brianna offered to help. Sunday found them zigzagging through the neighborhood, leaving coupons in doorways, while Dalton stayed home to read the newspaper.

“Isn’t the annual picnic coming up soon?” Marla asked him when they returned, weary but triumphant. The police department held an event every year so officers and their families could bond. Marla looked forward to meeting Dalton’s colleagues as his wife. While many of them had attended the wedding, she hadn’t been involved in their personal lives before.

“It’s July 4
^th
weekend, like always.” Seated at the kitchen table, Dalton buried his face in the sports section. “I don’t know that we’ll go this year, though.”

“Why not?” She busied herself putting away the breakfast dishes. Brianna had gone to her room to call her friends and make plans for later.

Dalton shrugged. “We’ve gone for a couple of years in a row. Maybe we should do something different for the holiday.”

“I was just your girlfriend when we went before. Now I’m your wife.” She wanted to feel included, not be greeted with polite smiles and surface chatter. Maybe the women would talk about things that truly concerned them in front of her since her status had changed.

“It’s not for a while yet. We don’t have to decide right this minute.”

Glancing at his bent head, she swallowed her retort. His reassignment was taking a heavy toll on his ego, and in his job, he couldn’t afford to lose focus. She hoped he’d rejoin his team before his morale dipped any lower.

She dropped the subject, suggesting they go to the park while the humidity remained low. A brisk walk might lift his spirits, plus they both needed the exercise.

After dropping Brianna off at a friend’s house, they headed over to Central Park. Dalton didn’t say much, responding to her chatty conversation with curt responses. The brooding look on his face deepened her concern, but she didn’t know how to ease his troubles when he wouldn’t talk about them.

Heaving a deep sigh, she switched her gaze to the lake where a duck family waddled along the bank. Ducks didn’t have to deal with work problems or awkward relationships. She studied the ripples on the water, palm fronds swaying in a light breeze, and a yellow butterfly alighting on a flowering plant. If only her life was so peaceful. Was she up to par to deal with Dalton’s affairs? How had things gotten so complicated so fast?

Life got even more complicated on Monday morning when a loud knock on the front door took her away from household bookkeeping. Wearing jeans and a short-sleeved top, she strode toward the foyer, wondering who would stop by so early. Lucky and Spooks accompanied her, barking madly and thrusting themselves at the door. She shooed them aside to peer through the peephole. A woman stood on the front porch, her skirt suit indicating she meant business.

“Yes?” Marla asked. “Who is it?” She wasn’t in the mood for solicitations.

“Detectives Minnetti and Langley. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Marla felt the blood drain from her face.
Great, just what I need this morning.

“Let me get the dogs locked up, and then I’ll let you in.”

A few minutes later, Marla swung the door wide. “Dalton has told me about you. I’m so glad we’re finally able to meet.”
Although I wish the circumstances were different.

“Likewise, Mrs. Vail.” Detective Minnetti strode inside, along with a somber-faced man in a jacket and tie whom Marla had met before. Detective Langley flashed her a sheepish grin and mumbled that he was Minnetti’s current partner on the case.

“Please come in and have a seat.” She ushered her guests into the living room.

The detectives sat on the camel-colored sofa, while Marla sank onto the matching loveseat. A cherry wood cocktail table separated them. A faux suede armchair completed the conversational area. One wall held a shelving unit with knickknacks, which she and Dalton had decided would reflect their new life and not their separate pasts.

Marla folded her hands in her lap. Realizing she was swinging her crossed leg back and forth, she stilled. The dogs continued their barking from the kitchen where she’d confined them behind a doggie gate. After an awkward interval where Marla waited on edge for the detectives to begin, the animals quieted and silence reigned for a few blessed seconds.