Murder by Manicure (19 page)

Once a flat expanse of road stretched ahead, she let her thoughts drift. According to Judy, Sam's demise might have been related to his nefarious past, and Eloise could be running scared as a result. Judy believed Mrs. Zelman would turn up eventually. If she were right, did Sam's prior dealings have anything to do with Jolene? It was too powerful a coincidence for two Perfect Fit Sports Club members to die within a couple weeks of each other. Sam's murder must be connected to Jolene's. In that case, they were not crimes of passion committed by Eloise, as Vail believed. Instead, there was some connection to Sam's business practices.

Feeling she was viewing different parts of a puzzle, Marla couldn't conceive how they fit together. Sam and Jolene were meeting secretly at the Holiday Inn. Cookie knew about them, and so did Sam's wife. But was it an illicit affair that brought them together, or was it a matter of professional interest—legal or otherwise? Could Jolene have been blackmailing Sam about his past? Had he bumped her off to shut her up when she threatened to talk? Or had Eloise done it to protect her husband? Then who had killed Sam, and why?

Jolene knew secrets about staff members at the club as well. Jolene had asked Slate if Keith was involved in the same thing as Gloria. Marla resolved to sneak into Gloria's office to find out what the girl was mixed up in. She couldn't forget Amy's jealousy, and Slate's resentment that Jolene had turned him down. And hadn't Wallace Ritiker remarked at how Hank seemed glad Jolene was out of the way? But what would those people have against poor Sam?

By the time she drove off the turnpike exit at Fort Pierce to switch to I-95, her temples throbbed. More pondering wouldn't provide the answers. Hopefully, this visit would be fruitful and steer her in the right direction.

Ignoring the temptation to spend the afternoon shopping at Vero Beach Prime Outlets, Marla headed east toward the ocean. Indian River Mall provided another distraction, but she resisted her urge to stop and stretch her legs. She'd spent a weekend here once at Disney's Vero Beach Resort, touring Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institution, the historic downtown, and Heathcote Botanical Gardens. If time permitted, she'd like to stop at Hale Groves on the way home to buy some tropical fruit preserves for her mother.

Route 60 heading east dead-ended at Ocean Drive. Halting at a red light, Marla admired the beach straight ahead, between the Holiday Inn Beachside on the left and the Ocean Grill on the right. That restaurant alone was worth a drive up here, she remembered fondly from her previous visit.

As soon as the light changed, she turned right and cruised along Ocean Drive until she spotted Seagulls & Saucers, located between a resort clothier and an art gallery. She pulled into a free parking space a few doors down.

Half afraid the restaurant would be closed after lunch, Marla was relieved to push the door open and enter a brightly lit interior. Gleaming metal stools faced a high counter that zigzagged to the rear in a wave design. Booths lined the opposite wall. The two women who were the sole patrons looked like bored socialites, Marla decided after glancing at their jewelry-bedecked necks and tanned faces.

She slid onto a counter stool and beckoned to a waitress whose name tag identified her as Sherry. Hunger took precedence over work, and Marla ordered a quarter-pound burger with french fries and a Coke. Forget the diet food, she told herself as she sniffed the aroma of freshly baked bread.

"This is a neat place,” she said when the waitress delivered her meal.

"Yeah, it's popular with the tourists.” Sherry stuck a wad of chewing gum in her mouth. “Nine o'clock in the morning, this place is full. You should see the line out front."

"I'm visiting the area,” Marla went on in casual tone, “but my friend, Hortense Crone, recently moved to my neighborhood in Fort Lauderdale. She told me how much she missed this restaurant, so I thought I'd stop by while I'm in town."

The girl's face crinkled into a frown. “Huh? Hortense came in here as usual this morning. She ain't moved nowhere. Who are you talking about?"

Marla stared at her. “A tall blonde, sexy figure, wears tight tops and short skirts."

"She moved south about two weeks ago?” At Marla's nod, a knowing look sprang into Sherry's hazel eyes. “Oh, that was Jill. She got a boob job. Big hair and big tits. She thinks they'll get her more acting stints."

Hortense said we should call her Jill.
“I don't understand. The girl I met said
she
was Hortense."

Sherry scraped a lock of listless bluish-black hair off her wide forehead. “Beats me, lady. Maybe you should talk to Hortense while you're here. She had a heavy conversation with Jill last time they both came by."

"Really? This keeps getting more curious. Where can I find your Hortense?"

"Dr. Crone works down at the Marine Annex. She's one of them ocean scientists. If you go into the gift shop, one of the volunteers can put you in touch with her."

Fortunately, Marla didn't need an appointment, and her befuddled brain didn't have to wait long for clarification. As soon as a volunteer connected her via telephone to Dr. Crone's office, and she mentioned the names Arnie and Jill in the same breath, a garbled background conversation followed.

"You can come right now, and Dr. Crone will see you,” said a woman's controlled voice at the other end. She rattled off directions and then hung up abruptly.

Feeling as though she were rousing a hornet's nest, Marla followed the road signs until she reached the area indicated. It was near a huge vat that held swimming sea creatures of indeterminate origins. A strong fishy odor permeated the place, which was outdoors but protected from the sun by a canvas awning.

A white-coated brunette carrying a clipboard strode in her direction when she emerged from her car. Steel-rimmed glasses shielded a pair of intelligent cocoa brown eyes. Emitting an aura of competence, she wore her hair in a business-like bob.

"You're Marla Shore?” the woman asked in a firm voice.

"Yes, I am,” Marla said, smiling hesitantly.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Dr. Hortense Crone."

Feeling the heat on her back, Marla stepped inside the shaded portion. “I thought I met Hortense in Palm Haven, but she doesn't look anything like you."

Dr. Crone's shoulders slumped. “No, that's Jill. I suppose I should explain."

"Please do.”
This better be good, or I've come a long way for nothing.

"Let's sit down.” The woman indicated a concrete bench.

Marla sank onto the hard surface. Dr. Crone sat beside her and regarded her with a frank stare.

"You're Arnie's fiancée, aren't you? I heard all about your exploits."

Marla's eyebrow shot up. “Oh?"

"Jill calls me every day. You see, I thought of approaching Arnie because I had a special fondness for him since high school. I couldn't go to Fort Lauderdale myself, and Jill seemed the perfect type to catch his eye. I hadn't realized he was engaged. Silly me, I heard he'd been widowed, but it never occurred to me that Arnie might have found someone else."

Marla squirmed uncomfortably. Their engagement was a deception, but apparently, so was Dr. Crone's sending Jill to pose as herself. She kept silent, putting aside until later the decision whether or not to reveal her own truth.

"Who is Jill?” she demanded, seeking the scientist's confession first.

"She's an actress I met at Seagulls and Saucers. Jill wasn't happy working as a publicity manager for a local company. In her spare time, she traveled to Orlando for acting jobs. Miami is a bigger market, and she was thinking of moving there. I knew right away she'd be perfect for the role I had in mind."

Marla had an inkling where Hortense was going next. “What role was that?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"Arnie always admired tall, slender women. We hadn't seen each other in so many years—not that he'd ever noticed me before. But let me start from the beginning.” Her soft brown eyes captured Marla's. “I'm Jolene Myers's cousin. We weren't terribly close, but we did see each other at family holidays. A couple of months ago, Jolene mailed me a manila envelope with a note that said not to open it unless something happened to her."

Swatting away a buzzing insect, Marla leaned forward. “Did you speak to her and ask why she sent it to you?"

"Yes, but she wouldn't explain. She said something very strange, though.” Her voice lowered. “
I'm doing something I'll probably regret later. In case anything happens, you can set things right.
Guess how I felt when I heard about her death?"

"She must've known something was wrong."

"Damn right. Jolene wouldn't drown in a whirlpool. She was too disciplined, always in control."

Marla studied an ant crawling along the ground. A fallen leaf obstructed its path. At first, it tried to climb up and over, but the height was too great. Instinct moved the creature along the obstacle's edge.

Jolene hadn't seemed terribly in control that day in the locker room. She'd admitted to being stressed, and Cookie had made things worse. She appeared rattled when she downed the two capsules. Did she regard Cookie merely as a mild interference? Or did the issues between them go deeper, making it more difficult for Jolene to find the right path? Instinct hadn't helped her; she'd chosen the way to death.

"Detective Vail mentioned that Jolene had taken sedatives,” said Dr. Crone. “I told him my cousin subscribed mostly to homeopathic remedies. Gelatin is a natural substance, you know, derived from animals."

Ah, so Vail knew Jill's true identity.
She felt a momentary irritation that he hadn't shared that knowledge with her. “Did you give Vail the envelope Jolene had sent you?"

Hortense stood. “I didn't mention it to him. After opening the package, I understood why she'd mailed it to me. We're both in the science field, you see. Come to my office; I have the papers there. I know you've been trying to help."

She pointed to a squat building in the distance. “We can take my buggie,” Dr. Crone said, indicating a golf cart, “or you can drive us. You're not really supposed to park here."

"Let's take my car.” Marla was glad to get away from the fishy smell. She'd been afraid it might linger in her car, but the air-conditioning soon dispelled any briny odors.

"I hope Jill hasn't interfered in your relationship with Arnie,” Hortense said after they emerged from Marla's car a few minutes later. “She was only supposed to use him as a jumping-off point to meet other contacts who knew Jolene. From our conversations, I surmised that Jill likes him."

"You could fool me. She was doing a good job on Detective Vail when we all went to dinner together."

"You're right; she was doing her job—for me. It was a lucky break that brought you all together. Meeting the homicide detective in charge of Jolene's case gave Jill an excuse to question
him.
She learned quite a bit at dinner that night, listening to y'all and meeting Mrs. Zelman."

Marla suppressed a retort as they approached the building. Dr. Crone pushed open a double set of white doors leading into a concrete structure that looked more like a bunker than an administrative wing. Nodding at a receptionist who waved in return, she walked ahead to a corridor lined with cubicles occupied by clerks and research assistants. Apparently, the large private offices with picture windows overlooking the grounds had been appropriated by the upper echelon. Marla was impressed by the size of Dr. Crone's allotment, but she smirked at the mess inside. Boxes and papers were strewn across the floor and piled a foot high on the counters.

"My laboratory is a lot better organized than this,” Hortense said, gesturing toward her desk. Marla hesitated just inside the door while Dr. Crone strode straight ahead to a tall four-drawer file cabinet.

"I'm still unclear on why you hired that actress,” Marla said. “What's her real name anyway?"

The scientist whirled around. “Jillian Barlow, or at least that's her stage name. Promise me you won't expose her identity until she finishes what I sent her there to do.” Anxiety radiated from her intense gaze.

Marla planted her hands on her hips. “Give me a good reason why I shouldn't tell the whole town who she really is."

The real Hortense pursed her lips. “As I said, I sent Jill to investigate Jolene's death by playing my part. As a former classmate of Arnie's, I figured this would be a good means of inserting Jill into the company of those who'd known my cousin. Arnie would introduce her around, and she'd question anyone who'd been close to Jolene. As it turned out, many of those people disliked my cousin. I can't say that I blame them. What she did in her lab goes beyond the pale."

Turning back to the file cabinet, Dr. Crone retrieved a sheaf of papers from one of the drawers. She handed them to Marla, who examined the various graphs and numbers with puzzlement. They might as well have been Egyptian hieroglyphics from her viewpoint.

"Would you care to interpret?” Marla asked dryly.

A fatigued expression transformed the scientist's face. “They're product test results ... from another company."

"Not Stockhart Industries where Jolene worked?” She felt as though her mind were slogging through mud.

Hortense nodded, gesturing for Marla to have a seat. Before continuing, she sank into a plush armchair behind the desk. “These results supposedly came from Jolene's laboratory, but as you can see, that's not the true source."

"I still don't get it."

"Jolene was buying data from somewhere else and passing it off as her own. See these other sheets?” Dr. Crone waved a cluster of papers in the air. “These are the real stats, and they show a much more dangerous toxicity level."

Realization dawned. “Your cousin was falsifying statistics, using results gained from another company.” Cookie had been right, then. Possibilities tumbled through her head as she reviewed the animal activist's accusations. “Do you know where this other data originated?"

"Unfortunately, no. Is there another chemical company in the vicinity?"

"There's a place called Listwood Pharmaceuticals.” Marla moistened her lips. “Now I have a confession to make. Arnie and I are not engaged. He, uh, prevaricated to avoid an entanglement with Jill when he thought she was you. I mean, when she first called him to say she was moving back to town, he panicked.” A blush stole over her features. This wasn't coming out right.