Highlights to Heaven (15 page)

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Authors: Nancy J. Cohen

BOOK: Highlights to Heaven
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“Pam wouldn’t have cared to live in a house like that,” Vail said quietly. “Too impersonal.”

“Mom wants us to be happy. I don’t really think it matters to her if we fix the house up or not. It’s embarrassing to bring my friends here. You tell him, Marla.”

Been there, done that
. “I think we should get on with the meal. Do you want help?” she asked Vail. “Or shall I tell you about the phone call I got just before I came here?”

“Go ahead.”

“Goat phoned me. At least I think it was him. The reception was bad. He warned me not to go near someone’s white home.”

Vail stepped toward her, then stopped. “How did he sound? Did he say where he was calling from?”

“Unfortunately, no. He just got a few words out; then we were disconnected.”

“Freakin’ phone company. What about your Caller ID?”

She shook her head. “I guess he was warning me against going near Evan’s ranch. It’s a white building. Goat must have learned about my previous visit there.”

“That means either he’s been keeping watch on things, or he’s been in contact with someone. Damn, if only he’d turned himself in.”

“He may do that when you catch Yani’s killer. Any leads?” Her attention shifted. “Brianna, honey, you should get yourself a sapphire file. It’s much better for your nails than that metal one.”

“Is that right? Can I get a manicure at your salon?”

“Brianna, you’re supposed to be doing your homework, not your nails.” Vail selected a knife and began slicing tomatoes. “I have a chablis open in the refrigerator. Want some?”

“I’d love it. Where do you keep your wineglasses?”

“Left top cabinet, second shelf, unless you want to use the crystal ones in the dining room.”

She reached inside the cupboard. “These are fine.” Feeling as though she were invading another woman’s space, she checked the dinnerware. “Shall I set the table?”

“Yep. The salmon won’t take long to cook. It’s already marinated. I made rice, but it doesn’t look right.”

“He used the wrong kind,” Brianna piped in. “Daddy never listens to me, except when he’s discussing his cases. That’s the only time my opinion counts.”

At the stove, Marla lifted the lid off a saucepan. “This rice isn’t fully cooked.”

“I don’t know why,” Vail said, pouring them each a glass of wine.

“All the water got absorbed.”

“Were you using Minute Rice?”

“I don’t know. The box is in the pantry.”

A few moments later, Marla chuckled. “No wonder. This is arborio rice. You have to cook it slowly and keep adding water. It isn’t prepared the same as Minute Rice.”

“What do I know? Usually the housekeeper prepares our meals.”

Their gazes locked. “You need a woman around full-time who knows what she’s doing. Or next time, listen to your daughter.”

“How about if I tried both? Where do you think I could get the woman?” he asked in a teasing banter.

“Get to the point, Daddy.” Brianna gave an exasperated sigh.

“He keeps talking about asking you to move in. It wouldn’t bother me.” She studied her fingernails. “We could, like, go to the mall.

They do ear-piercing at Claire’s.”

“I thought I told you not to bring up that subject again,” Vail said sternly.

Now we get to the real reason Brianna wanted me over
. She felt like a pawn in their familial chess game, caught between two opposing armies. Was this what would happen if she became part of their enclave? She’d end up fighting battles? No thanks. Domestic bliss wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d fought enough skirmishes with Stan to have learned that lesson.

“I’m hungry,” she stated firmly. “Let’s eat and review your case. That’s why you asked me for dinner.”

“It’s not only my case. It’s yours, too. I don’t like Goat’s warning, and I also don’t like the fact that another stylist was involved in an accident.” Vail carried the salad bowl to the table.

Marla found a box of instant mashed potatoes in the pantry and set about preparing it. “You heard about Lori?”

“Did you know her?”

“She was in my class. Only Kenya and I are left from the gang who played that trick on Wyeth Holmes. His name isn’t listed on the roster I had printed out from our beauty school. Maybe you should track him down.”

“I’d like a copy of that list.”

“I’ll fax it to your office in the morning.”

“It might be safer for you to stay here tonight.”

She paused, spoon in hand while she assessed his impassive features. Was the man genuinely concerned for her safety, or was this another ploy to land her in his bed? Couldn’t be the latter, not while Brianna was afoot.

“I’ll be all right. My alarm system works now, remember?”

“Your alarm system doesn’t go with you when you walk Spooks.”

“So I’ll let him out into the backyard until things quiet down. I’m not actively seeking trouble.”

“Ha! Trouble has a way of finding you. Now listen to what I’ve found out.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Animal Farm pet store is owned by a man named Wake Hollander,” Vail said. Leaving Marla with her mouth hanging open, he picked up the dish of salmon fillets and strode out to the screened patio.

After setting a lid on the pot of mashed potatoes and removing it from the heat, Marla trailed after him. She brought her glass of wine, needing a big gulp. “That’s where Goat gets his supplies.”

“I checked on the owner. Hollander has a lot of receipts from a guy called Lujan Chang. Chang just happens to be Yani Verkovich’s Chinese associate at Stockhart Industries.”

He set the fillets on a gas grill, while Marla admired his masculine form. She could get used to having him around, but she didn’t know how she’d feel about having Brianna around all the time. Fond feelings aside, teenagers presented a burden Marla wasn’t sure she wanted.

Or was it one she feared she couldn’t handle?

“What kind of receipts did you find?” she asked, taking another drink. Focusing on his case was a lot easier than addressing personal issues.

He gave her a flippant grin that turned her heart upside down. “Chang buys birds. You know how that’s a popular thing in Hong Kong. Birdcages are everywhere. Except I think some of the specimens he buys aren’t available through normal channels.”

Marla sat on one of the patio chairs. “Remember how I heard Evan and Wake talking about a shipment? Something Wake expected wasn’t coming in on time, and he said Tiger would be upset.

Do you suspect Tiger and this Chang are one and the same?”

“It’s highly likely. There are other peculiarities.”

“Such as?”

“I’ve been looking into Chang’s background. He likes to go to the local pound and collect animals doomed to be put to sleep. He says he finds homes for the dogs and cats but has never documented his claim. It seems as if they disappear.”

“Bless my bones, you don’t think he-” Her throat closed.

Vail nodded grimly. “It would account for a few things.”

She sipped her wine while mulling over the possibilities. “I can’t believe he’d be involved in the pet-fur business in addition to smuggling illegal birds into the country.”

“I presume Chang is either a collector or he resells the birds to fellow countrymen. Either way, he’s the purchaser, not the smuggler. That honor goes to Evan Fargutt. We have a couple of other agencies interested in his operation.”

“Have you checked out his ranch?”

“Yeah, I got a search warrant. He has over eight hundred birds in metal and wood cages alone, plus the aviary and the birds-of-prey section. Just the caged birds are worth about five hundred thousand dollars. I didn’t see any signs of the laboratory you’d mentioned. There are three larger buildings: his house, a guest house for the ranch hands, and a quarantine station for imported birds. Assorted pieces of equipment lying around: aquariums, incubators, cages, and such.”

“If he makes so much money being an aviculturist, why would he bother with smugglers?”

“You want the simple answer? It’s a lucrative trade worth several billion dollars a year. Since the Wild Bird Conservation Act restricted exotic bird imports, up to one hundred thousand are smuggled into this country every year. That’s just birds. Who knows? Maybe Evan brings in other stuff. Thousands of illegal animals enter the United States, and they’re often hidden in legal shipments. South Florida, in particular, is a magnet for smugglers, since we’re so close to Central and South America. Birds, reptiles, primates, snakes, tropical fish, you name it. Asian remedies use bones and other body parts from endangered animals. Animals are wanted, dead and alive.”

Hadn’t she heard about bird’s-nest soup, a Chinese delicacy? Marla shivered at the images conjured in her mind.

Regarding Vail, she narrowed her eyes. “Like certain gourmet dishes, secret formulas may require exotic ingredients. Perfume, cosmetic, and skin-care product companies claim to add special factors to their compounds. What if Cutter and his pals were developing a hair-growth tonic that needed rare elements, like ground boar’s teeth or something? Yani could have obtained them from either Chang or Evan. Did he threaten to expose Chang’s larger operation? Or did he get greedy and turn the tables on them to keep the formula for himself?”

“That doesn’t explain the bag of money left at Goat’s place, or how Goat got involved with the bad eggs in the first place,” Vail replied, his gaze pensive.

“Daddy said your friend Goat worked at Evan’s ranch,” Brianna said, trundling out to the patio. “What if he asked Wake Hollander, one day when he was buying supplies, if any extra work was available? Pet stores have to keep their animals groomed. Maybe Wake didn’t need help, but he referred Goat to Evan. That could be how Goat got the job at the ranch.”

“Very good, honey. Have a seat. The fillets should be ready any minute. Shall we set the table outside?” Marla asked Vail. “It’s quite pleasant out here. Your backyard looks so tropical.”

“I had a landscaper come in after my citrus trees were chopped down.”

They transferred all the accoutrements for the meal to the patio. Vail cut some slices from a long loaf of Cuban bread, and Marla helped herself. Her head was beginning to float from the wine, and she needed something solid in her stomach. She slathered margarine on her bread while Vail dished out the salad. He brought the mashed potatoes and added some freshly microwaved asparagus.

“Let’s say Goat got his job through Wake Hollander,” Marla continued once the fillets were on the table. Vail had used a teriyaki sauce. Its delicious aroma made her mouth water. “Do you think he knew what was going on between Evan and Chang? From what you’re saying, I gather Wake is essentially a middleman.”

“It’s possible Goat learned about their trade in birds. I’m wondering how Verkovich got involved. My guess is, Chang introduced his colleague to Evan Fargutt.”

“I thought Yani’s relationship with Cutter led him to Evan.”

“Boy, is this confusing,” Brianna stated. “Marla, can I taste your wine?”

“Certainly not!”

“Lots of my friends drink. You should see what they do when their parents aren’t home.”

Marla smiled indulgently, not believing a word of what she said.

“Tell me about it, honey.”

“Brianna, you’re not doing anything against my rules, are you?” Vail snapped. “I’ll have to call your friends’ parents.”

“Better not.” Brie’s dark eyes twinkled mischievously. “Maybe I was exaggerating.”

Or maybe you just want more attention
. Marla curbed her impatience to discuss Goat and instead queried Brianna about her schoolwork. While she listened, part of her mind continued to stew regarding Vail’s revelations. She presented her mental arguments after they’d cleaned away the dinner dishes.

“Lujan Chang is likely mixed up in operations that have nothing to do with Goat,” Marla concluded while slicing a lemon meringue pie Vail had defrosted for dessert. “If Chang has a connection to Evan through Wake Hollander, where does Cutter fit in? Or Yani, for that matter? They’re all linked in some manner that led to one man’s death and another’s disappearance. Not to mention the other stylists from my class. What do I and my classmates have to do with any of it?”

“You tell me,” Vail prompted.

“Goat collected articles on Martha Matilda Harper. That has to be the key. Maybe I’m on target with my theories about secret hair-growth formulas. Talk about a lucrative business! Whoever invents a way to stimulate new hair growth will be very rich.”

“I’d need more evidence to go with you on that one,” Vail said. “Anyway, I didn’t invite you here to monopolize our conversation with details about my case. Want to go out on Saturday?”

Marla was just as happy to change the subject. Her brain grew too befuddled by all the possibilities, and the wine added to the effect. She was finding it increasingly difficult to think straight. “Passover starts on Wednesday night. I don’t like to dine out during the holiday.”

“Why not?” Brianna demanded, helping herself to a second portion of pie.

At least the girl had a healthy appetite, Marla thought, glad that Brie didn’t starve herself for a slim figure. “We’re not supposed to eat products made from flour. That leaves out a lot of things in restaurants. I’m just more comfortable eating at home.”

“Okay, I’ll come to your place,” Vail announced. “Besides,” he added with a wink, “it’s your turn to cook dinner next. Brianna is invited to a party, so she’ll be sleeping over a friend’s house.”

They locked gazes, and she understood his unspoken promise. Her face heated with the awareness that the teen was watching them. “I’ll let you know. Let’s see what develops this week.”

Monday brought a new opportunity when Marla realized she was nearly out of dog food. “I’m sorry,” she told Spooks, who hovered at her heels. “I haven’t been paying much attention to you lately, have I? I have a few other errands to run. I’ll stop and get you a new bag of Science Diet.”

Bingo! A light bulb popped on in her head. She needed food for her pet. What better place to go than Animal Farm, where Goat went for his supplies? It couldn’t be considered snooping if she was going in there for a legitimate reason. A single visit wouldn’t put her in any danger, and she might learn something new.

Various smells and sounds assailed her as soon as she pushed open the door to the pet shop. She grimaced at the unhappy sight of dogs confined to cages. She’d bought Spooks at a poodle-breeding parlor, and he’d come complete with pedigree papers and photos of his parents. Pet stores were so distressing. She wanted to take home each of the pathetic creatures. Her eyes bulged when she noticed a birdcage holding a scarlet macaw with a price tag of fifteen hundred dollars. And she’d thought the five hundred dollars she’d paid for Spooks was a lot.

The owner fit right into the jungle motif with his safari clothes, squashed fisherman’s hat covering self-shorn hair, and his short, wiry figure. He’d been tabulating some figures by the cash register and glanced up at her entrance.

“May I help you?” he asked in a gravelly tone.

She sidled up to his counter. “Do you carry Science Diet?” Although the front of the store displayed an array of pets, she noticed rows of shelves holding supplies toward the back.

“Sure do.” His blue eyes squinted. “What kind?”

“Canine light-maintenance. I have a miniature poodle. He started getting these milky white spots on his eyes. The dog eye specialist said they’re cholesterol plaques because he doesn’t metabolize fat properly.” She grunted. “Talk about expensive doctor visits. I should’ve claimed Spooks as a dependent on my income tax.”

The man laughed. “I know what you mean. I get a pretty hefty vet bill keeping these guys healthy.” He waved at the cages. “What size bag do you want?”

“Twenty pounds. I’m glad you carry Science Diet. You can’t get it in Publix, and I thought pet stores dealt mostly in animals. I’ve always gone to the big chains for supplies. My dog groomer suggested I come here.”

“I sell wholesale to folks in the business. It earns me my overhead, you know? People come in to buy pets sporadically, plus there’s a lot of competition. So I earn my bread-and-butter with the supplies. Wait here; I’ll get your stuff.”

“Is this your card?” Marla asked, holding up a business card from a holder on the counter. “You must be Wake Hollander.”

“That’s right.” He retrieved her order and dumped the bag by the cash register. “Anything else?”

She withdrew her credit card and handed it to him. “Just some information. My groomer’s name is Kyle Stanislaw. You might know him as Goat. He’s been missing for several weeks, and I’m concerned. Have you heard from him at all?”

His gaze narrowed as he studied her credit card. “Your name sounds mighty familiar.”

Her heartbeat picked up speed. “A man’s body was found in Goat’s town house. Yani Verkovich. Ring a bell?” She signed a credit slip after he completed the transaction.

“Are you a cop?” His voice lost all traces of warmth.

“No, I’m just worried about a friend. But I have heard your name mentioned in certain circles.” She tucked her card back in her wallet.

“How’s that?”

She detected a flicker of fear behind his expression. “Cutter Corrigan was my teacher in beauty school. He has…had a relationship with Yani. I understand you’re acquainted with one of Yani’s colleagues, along with Cutter’s cousin, Evan Fargutt.”

His gaze darting nervously to the door, Hollander moistened his lips. “I don’t know nothin’ about what happened to Verkovich. He was up to something with Fargutt, but I never stuck my nose into their business. As long as Fargutt came through on my orders, that is.”

“Oh, yes. You buy your birds from Evan’s stock, or else he ships in what you require. Or rather, what Mr. Chang requests.”

A moment of silence passed between them. “What is it you want, Miss Shore?”

“My friend’s safe return. That will happen only when Verkovich’s killer is found. Do you think Yani discovered too much about his Chinese colleague?”

Hollander leaned forward. “Mr. Chang ain’t involved in this fellow’s death. If you ask me, look to Fargutt’s ranch. There’s more than one rotten apple in that bunch.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ve said my piece. You can’t fool me, missy. I know you must be working for the cops. That detective asked me about those people who lived up in Loxahatchee.”

“Pardon me?”

He swished something in his mouth and then spit into a trash container. “Back in ninety-five, a couple of bird breeders disappeared from a ranch in Palm Beach County. I used to deliver their feed, but that was my only contact. The two of them vanished, leaving their ranch untended. All I did was notify the police that no one had picked up their seed from the front gate when I drove by later that week. The place had a stench that told me something was wrong.”

“So what happened to them?”

“No one knows. Could be they crossed someone or owed money and decided to skip town. Ranch hands weren’t much help. Jimmy Laredo…Jimbo had quit his job two weeks before, and the other guy was picked up in Georgia for driving with a suspended license.”

“Jimbo? Is he the same man who works at Evan’s ranch?”

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