Shear Murder (24 page)

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Authors: Nancy J. Cohen

BOOK: Shear Murder
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Marla gasped, holding her scissors in the air. “Jill was married before? She led us all to believe Arnie was her first husband.”

Alexis's gaze met hers in the mirror. “She was an actress, doll. Public relations may have been her specialty in college, but she caught the acting bug in junior high. Just look at how she changed her appearance. Her looks had been unremarkable in her teens, so it wasn't any surprise that she fell for the first man who paid attention to her. Whether she married him to spite her parents or because she craved affection, I can't guess.”

“You don't think they loved each other?”

“Maybe she thought so at first. Jill didn't realize he had a temper or that he drank. All he wanted was a mother for his kid. She got disillusioned pretty fast.”

Marla spritzed Alexis's hair with water again and took up her shears. “So what happened then?” she asked with a sense of dread. It couldn't be good, or Jill wouldn't have kept it a secret for long.

“This is what I heard, mind you. Eddy was the one who actually got involved.”

“Go on.”
Lift, snip, drop.
Marla applied her skill, shaping Alexis's hair into a more flattering style.

“The guy became physically abusive. By then, Jill had become fond of the little girl. She was afraid for her safety, so she took the child one night when he was stone drunk and ran away with her.”

“That's why she was charged with kidnapping?” The pieces began to fall into place. Jill hadn't done a bad thing. She'd tried to save the man's daughter.

“When he woke up the next morning and they were gone, the husband filed charges against Jill. The cops found them. Jill got sent to jail and the kid went to a foster home. It was Torrie who posted bond. She and Scott offered a sum of money to the husband if he'd drop the charges and agree to a divorce.”

“Torrie did that for Jill?” She wouldn't have expected such kindness, but perhaps Torrie's bitterness stemmed from Jill's ingratitude and not from any latent childhood rivalries.

“Yes, and she never let Jill forget it. Scott resented his wife's involvement, and that didn't help Torrie's relationship with Jill either.”

Alexis examined herself in the mirror after Marla put her shears down. “That's really cute. My own stylist never suggested lifting the layers like this.”

“She probably figured you were happy if you didn't say anything. If you want to change your style, it helps to say so. Hairdressers are not mind readers.”

Alexis gave her braying laugh again, making Marla cringe inwardly. She picked up her blow dryer, plugging it into a wall outlet.

“So that's it? Jill married the wrong man, made a mistake in running off with the guy's daughter, and never did another bad deed?”

“As far as I know.” Alexis shifted her position. “She should have told Arnie from the start.”

“Absolutely. It isn't good to begin a marriage based on deceit.”

She thought of her own past mistakes and how Dalton had been so understanding when he'd learned the truth. She'd been ashamed to tell him, having guarded her secrets for years, like Jill. It seemed only yesterday that little Tammy had drowned while under her care as a babysitter. If she could put that tragedy and her subsequent foibles behind her, so could Jill.

“Whatever happened to the little girl?” she asked Alexis. “She must have been traumatized by the situation.”

Alexis shrugged her wide shoulders. “Who knows? Jill didn't need that kind of baggage. She was still very young. Thank heavens she's found a good man now, if she can hold onto him.”

“Jill loves his children. Maybe she always regretted leaving her first husband's daughter behind.”

“That was Torrie's condition. A clean break, or no money. Jill kept to the bargain.”

Marla switched on the dryer, drowning out any further conversation until they were downstairs, seated in the living room where the maid had deposited a tray of refreshments.

“If you don't think Jill killed Torrie, who did?” Marla asked, after Alexis poured them both cups of brewed green tea.

“She confessed for a reason. You tell me.”

Balancing her teacup in her lap, Marla bent her head. “Maybe she knows whodunit and wants to take the heat off them.”

“Then it would have to be someone close to her. Who would she risk going to prison for? No one in our family, I assure you.”

“Guess it's time I had a word with Jill myself.”

Chewing on a scone, Marla redirected the conversation to idle chatter. She submitted to a tour of Eddy's wine cellar as promised then took her leave.

Armed with her new knowledge, she knocked on Arnie's front door at three o'clock.

A drapery at one of the front windows was pushed aside and let drop back into place. Moments later, Jill opened the door.

Her blond hair had been hastily twisted and clipped to her head, her makeup barely applied. Dark circles under her eyes and a pale complexion indicated a restless state of mind.

“Marla. How nice to see you,” she said in a flat tone. “What brings you into the neighborhood?”

“Can I come in? I had a few minutes free and wanted to see how you're doing. And I didn't get to talk to Josh and Lisa last time I was here. Are they in school?” She held her breath, hoping she and Jill would be alone.

“Yes, their nanny should be in the carpool lane as we speak.” Jill led her inside to the family room, where she plopped down on the sofa and slumped back on the cushions. Marla sat in an upholstered chair facing her.

“So tell me, Marla, why are you really here?”

“Why do you think? I'm worried about you. Tell me what brought you to the brink.” She waved a hand as Jill's eyes widened. “Oh, I don't mean about killing your sister. Why did you confess when you're innocent?”

Jill hung her head. “What do you know? I might have had my reasons for wanting Torrie dead.”

“Because she knew you'd married an older man and abducted his child when he threatened to harm you? All your relatives seem to know about it, so why didn't you tell Arnie? Did you believe he'd think less of you if he knew the truth?”

“I made a mistake, and I tried to put it behind me.” Jill wrung her hands. “I should have told him I'd been divorced.”

“But not about the kidnapping charge? Now I understand what Torrie meant when she said she hoped your vows meant more this time around, but it wasn't your fault that your first marriage failed. You did what you had to in order to protect that man's child.”

“She was such a sweet girl, Marla.” Jill's tone was so low that Marla had to lean forward to hear her. “I knew when I saw him smashing the chair in the dining room that we'd be next. I had a bag packed just in case. When he went into the kitchen to get another bottle, I grabbed Becky and ran.”

“Becky?”

“Rebecca. That was his daughter's name.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I missed her so when I had to give her up, but they wouldn't let me keep her. Torrie told me I had to let Becky go if I wanted her help. She regretted that decision to the end of her days.”

I sat up straight. “What do you mean?”

Jill bent her head, stringy clumps of hair falling forward. “Torrie and Scott never had children, you know. They wanted to, but it didn't work out for them. She started volunteering in foster care, and when she saw what went on, she was sorry she had sent Becky away from someone who loved her.”

“Didn't you resent her interference in your life?”

“How could I? If not for Torrie and Scott, I'd have been convicted of kidnapping a minor. They helped me get rid of that rotten egg of a husband. The price had been steep, but I'd been willing to pay it.”

“So you're saying Torrie regretted that decision?”

“For a long time she held my actions against me. She had coughed up a lot of money on my behalf, and I'll admit I was less than grateful. We grew apart. Scott had never been fond of me, and any time we met, they never let me forget what I owed them.”

Marla struggled to understand. “But when you both inherited that property, you and Torrie had to communicate with each other.”

“Right. She saw how I'd changed and wanted to make amends, so she came up with the perfect idea for a wedding gift.”

“Which was what?”

“Returning my stepdaughter to me.”

Click.
More pieces fell into place.

“Rachel,” Marla murmured.

“Yes, Rachel is the name she uses now. Torrie told me how she'd found Becky through the foster care system and brought her to town as her intern. Becky hadn't wanted to see me, until Torrie explained that it was her fault we'd been separated and that I hadn't abandoned her.”

“But she seemed loyal to Torrie when I met her at the magazine office.”

“She came to realize Torrie only had my best interests at heart. She's at a similar age to me when it all happened, so it's easier for her to understand now.”

“Were you aware Rachel, or Becky, disguised herself and got hired as a waitress at your wedding?”

Jill's eyes misted. “She wanted to get a glimpse of me without actually having to face me yet.”

“I'm guessing Torrie found her out and yelled at her because someone heard them arguing.” Her jaw dropped. “That's why you confessed? You think Rachel murdered your sister?”

“I know she did.” Jill's lower lip wobbled. “We finally met each other in person. Oh, Marla, it was so good to see Becky again. Or rather, Rachel, since that's the name she prefers these days. Dear Lord, I couldn't believe how she'd grown. But then she told me how Torrie screamed at her at the wedding and said she should never have come, that it would ruin things between us. Rachel got angry and blamed Torrie for everything that had happened. Somehow she got hold of the knife Torrie was carrying.”

“Wait a minute. What knife?”

Jill's face scrunched. “Our wedding cake knife. Don't ask me how Torrie got it. Anyway, they struggled, and the knife ended up in my sister's chest. Rachel told me how she panicked, afraid she'd killed Torrie. She ran away to get help but decided it would look too incriminating. So she kept going.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“You see why I had to turn myself in? If Detective Brody learned our story, he'd figure Rachel took the job as Torrie's intern to exact revenge on her. And when Hally learned her true identity, Rachel killed her, too.”

“She sent you flowers after Torrie's funeral.”

“Rachel wanted me to know she was out there.”

“This is important information, Jill. You should tell the detective these things and let him uncover the truth. Maybe Torrie wasn't dead when Rachel left her.”

“I can't take that chance. I'm just now discovering my stepdaughter again. I don't want her taken from me.”

“She's not the only suspect. Other people have motives.” Marla's mind raced. Rachel had means, motive, and opportunity, making for a strong case against her. “Did you hear anything about the medical examiner's report?” Jill shook her head. “Then you don't know what really killed your sister.”

“Who else do you suspect?” Jill's eyes filled with hope.

“Aside from your uncle and cousin who are trying to convince you to sell your property? Torrie wasn't happy with Scott's business decisions and hinted at leaving him. She was having an affair with another man. Jealousy could be Scott's motive. Or greed, since he's inherited Torrie's share of your land.” Except he didn't leave the ballroom in the midst of festivities. Jill did, as had Alexis. But Jill would have had blood on her gown if she'd stabbed Torrie.

“Scott is too meek.” Jill's lips compressed. “That man wouldn't hurt a fly.”

“Sometimes people can appear calm and hide a volcano inside. Think of all those workplace shootings.”

“If Torrie was seeing another man, Scott wouldn't do anything about it. He's not the type. Who was it, do you know?”

“Griff Beasley, the photographer from
Boca Style Magazine.
Thing is, Hally considered him her territory.” As quickly as possible, Marla ran down her list of suspects. “So you see, Rachel isn't the only person with a motive for murder.”

“No, but she was there at the right time holding the weapon.” Jill squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, Marla, prove she isn't guilty. I'll be forever grateful.”

I'm trying to prove
you're
not guilty,
Marla thought.

“One item I meant to look into was the seating charts. Do you still have them? I'd like to see whose table was next to the one with the cake.”

“Sure.” Jill rose and scurried from the room. She returned a few minutes later carrying a folder. “Here, take it, but I'd like them back later for my records.”

“Thanks, this will help.” Leveraging to her feet, she accepted the packet.

“So what now?” Jill tucked a loose strand of hair behind an ear.

“Now I track down the cake knife. Philip Canfield implied he put it on the table, but then how would Torrie have gotten it? The wedding photos are the key. Either I have to get a look at your proofs, or I have to get into the office at
Boca Style Magazine.
They may still have Griff's digital photos on file. Besides, Griff is hiding something. He worked with both Torrie and Hally, and now they're dead. Rachel works in the same office. We don't want her to be the next victim.”

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

Marla stopped by the wedding photographer's place first, hoping for a glimpse of Jill's proofs. Luck followed her into a private alcove with a computer where the receptionist brought up the digital files.

“Here's what we have so far, but the polished proofs won't be ready for another couple of weeks at least,” the woman said in a friendly tone. She wore a smart belted black dress with a V neckline and chunky jewelry. “When did you say your date was?”

“In June.” The lie rolled off Marla's tongue.

“We have various packages available. Stop by the front desk before you go and I'll give you the information. Were you interested in video as well?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Our guys do a great job. I don't have the one available from the Hartman affair, but we have other sample videos to watch if you're interested.”

Marla gestured. “Not right now, thanks. These are fine.”

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