Permed To Death [Bad Hair Day Mystery 1] (8 page)

"You've described him as a tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome detective who fights for justice. If you ask me, that's akin to hero worship."

Marla snorted. “Not in my case. He's trying to pin a homicide on me; I know it. It's clear his interest is merely a ploy to get me to confess."

"Then you'll just have to accept his offer to find out what he really wants, won't you?"

"Yeah, we'll go to Arnie's Bagel Busters for coffee. At least he's a friend I can trust."

"I like Arnie. He'd be more than a friend if you gave him a chance.” Tally's face sobered.’ ‘Who do you suspect so far?"

Marla put down her fork. “Wendy's husband, Zack, may be having financial difficulties. He's worried about Wendy taking time off from her job when she has the baby, and she did act evasive when I asked about his business. Maybe he views her inheritance as a saving grace."

"Is there any way to check on his work status?"

"Wendy didn't say whether he's an independent consultant or if he works for someone else. I'll ask Todd when I meet him tomorrow night."

"Holy smokes, you're not wasting any time. Shall I come with you?"

"No, thanks. We're meeting at Scudders at nine o'clock. Plenty of other people will be strolling the Strip by then. Besides, Todd expects me to come alone, and I don't want to scare him off."

"Why talk to you and not the cops?"

"Who knows? He's such a scumbag, Wendy might be right about him."

"You mean about earning money illegally? That could give him a motive if his mother learned about it.” Tally signaled to the waiter to remove their empty salad plates. “What about her business partner? Didn't you say he was pulling some shenanigans on the company?"

"My cousin's husband hinted at a tax-evasion scheme, but Lucille said it was nothing. She mentioned Roy had been acting against the company in some manner, but she didn't explain. I'll ask Lance to examine the company's records. He's a whiz at accessing data."

Tally winked. “Especially when you're leaning over his shoulder. Hey, do you think Lucille resented Bertha for firing her?"

"She didn't seem angry about it. You'd think she'd be more upset by Roy since his wrongdoing led to her dismissal, but I got the impression she likes him."

"You're kidding? I thought she'd sworn off men."

"She spoke to him at the funeral. Afterward, when Darlene tried to get his attention, Lucille seemed glad he turned her away."

"Maybe you should talk to Roy to sound out his views. Although I'm not entirely clear why you feel the need to do all this legwork. Isn't that Vail's job?"

"Of course it is, but Bertha died in my salon. I feel it's my responsibility to learn what happened."

"Why?” Tally persisted.

Marla stumbled for an answer.
Because her death was my fault. I should have been more vigilant. Like with Tammy ...
"I was alone with her. I don't want anyone thinking I poisoned her coffee."

Tally's eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Vail's really spooked you, hasn't he? Or are you blaming yourself, Marla?"

The waiter swept by carrying a tray laden with aromatic dishes, distracting their attention, Marla's mouth watered, but the meals went to a rowdy group of businessmen who'd already whetted their appetite with large quantities of beer.

"Hey!” Tally called. “We were seated before them."

The waiter, a harried young man whose limp hair tumbled onto his brow, stopped by their table. “I'll check on your orders, ma'am."

"I'd like a glass of burgundy,” Marla requested, needing to relieve the tension knotting her brow. She could think more clearly if so many possibilities weren't clouding her brain. Then again, maybe it was better not to think at all.

"You're upset,” Tally said, wagging a finger.

"Of course I'm upset.” She leveled a steady gaze on her friend. “Do you know what Vail suggested? He said I should contact Stan for legal counsel."

"Dear Lord.” Tally raised her eyes heavenward. “Just what you need. Look, do me a favor and be careful when you talk to Todd. You don't want to invite any more trouble."

Marla remembered the odd feeling of recognition she'd had when their hands touched at the funeral, and a shiver ran up her spine. “Roy Collins could be a pain,” she said, pushing aside her doubts about Todd. “If he decides to sue me for negligence, I'll have to notify the carrier for my liability policy. If they won't cover this situation, I'll be forced to call Stan."

Tally grimaced. “I'm surprised he hasn't come running to you already to gloat. He must have seen the shots of your salon on TV."

"He'll drop by when it's to his advantage.” The waiter returned with steaming-hot plates and her glass of wine. “Don't you want a drink?” she asked Tally.

Tally shook her head, waves of blond hair brushing her face. She wore a loose, easily manageable style that Marla trimmed for her every six weeks. “My weight is up by two pounds. Alcohol adds too many calories.” She examined her plate, squinting. “This piece of chicken is undercooked,” she told the waiter. “Look, see this red juice?” She prodded the meat with her knife. “It needs to go back on the grill for a few more minutes. See that it's done properly this time, will you?"

After he left for the kitchen, Tally leaned forward. “I stopped by the new Trim ‘N Slim sport place. It costs seven hundred fifty to join, then thirty a month. Want to go with me?"

Marla tasted her grilled salmon with dill sauce. A warm buttery slice slid down her throat. “You know I hate exercise classes."

"Never mind the classes. We can use the machines. I'll meet you after work three times a week."

"Not me, thanks.” Stirring a generous dollop of sour cream and chives into her baked potato, she mixed it in with her fork.

"You think you're eating diet food with that fish, but look at the oil running off the dill sauce. And all those high-fat toppings you put on your potato, plus the wine, and your roll with butter—"

"That's enough!” She wanted to enjoy her meal, not feel guilty over it.

The waiter returned, putting Tally's plate in front of her for inspection. She nodded and picked up her fork. After a few bites where she rolled her eyes appreciatively, she said: “I just got in the perfect outfit for your size."

"Is that right?” Marla let a gleam of interest spark in her eyes. “I hope it's that pearl gray jumpsuit you showed me in the catalog. I didn't think it would be available so soon."

"I got a shipment yesterday and put it aside for you."

"When can I stop in?"

"You tell me. You're the busy one these days. Better come before Friday afternoon, though. Ken will be home, so I'm leaving early."

At the mention of her husband's name, a frown creased her forehead. Tally bent her head, supposedly intent on eating her dinner.

"What's wrong?” Marla asked, concerned. It wasn't like Tally to stop talking. She could usually hold up her end of a conversation for an entire meal.

Tally played with her parsley-sprinkled potatoes. “Ken has been acting strange since his last trip."

"How so?"

"More distant, like he doesn't want to spend time with me."

Marla didn't like the sound of this. Tally and Ken never had any trouble before. Married for ten years, their relationship reminded her of a meandering stream: just a few rocks in the way but easily bypassed. She hoped nothing serious was happening.

Tally's lashes shaded her downcast eyes. “He runs off to play golf on Sundays and doesn't ask me to join him. He barely talks to me when he's home. I'm afraid ... maybe he's found someone else."

Marla heard the strain in her voice and felt a rush of sympathy. “Ken doesn't strike me as the wandering type. Have you any evidence that he's interested in another woman?” She knew the score, having been through it herself with Stan.

"No, but I'm too embarrassed to call up his golf buddies and ask if he's there."

"So come up with an excuse. Peace of mind is worth it” She thought a minute, searching for a plausible explanation. “Could it be something at work is bothering him?"

"Ken just got promoted to regional director of disaster claims. It means he's away more often. If anything, he seems to look forward to these trips ... and to not being with me."

Tally looked so disconsolate, Marla wanted to hug her. Surely she was misinterpreting her husband's reactions.

"Ken loves you,” she said reassuringly, believing her own words. “Maybe if you talk to him—"

"I've tried to ask him what's wrong,” Tally said, lifting her eyes. “He says I'm imagining things, then he gets close-mouthed. What should I do, Marla?"

She swallowed. “Look for evidence to back up your suspicions. Review the payments in your joint checking account, and see if there are checks made out to someone you don't know. Examine your phone bills and credit-card receipts.” Hesitating, she cleared her throat. “I hope you've protected the income from your boutique.”
Not that it's any business of mine, but I care about you
.

Tally's lip curled. “Don't worry, the income goes into my private savings account, and I manage the bookkeeping myself. I've always believed women should be self-sufficient regarding finances. Besides, I'm not going to give up without a fight."

"Uh-oh. Sounds like you're planning something wicked."

"You'll see."

"Tell me!"

"Sorry, I can't give away the details."

Marla decided not to pressure her. Instead, she drained her wineglass, feeling slightly woozy. When the waiter handed them each a dessert menu, she was sorely tempted to order a decadent sweet. Just for tonight, because she had so much on her mind. The extra calories would fuel her brain cells. Besides, tomorrow was time enough to tighten her belt.

"So what are you going to do if Todd Kravitz doesn't offer any useful information?” Tally said, switching topics with gusto. If there was one quality Marla admired in her, resiliency stood out. Tally rarely let anything dampen her high spirits.

"I'm going to see Wendy later in the week,” she said, deliberately not mentioning why. No one else knew about that envelope, and she hoped to keep it secret. Her disgraceful act had been too shameful to confide even to her high-school friend.

"If Todd can't tell you where Zack works, Wendy might cooperate if you've got information to throw back at her,” Tally offered. She eyed the dessert menu but just ordered an espresso.

"Like what?"

Tally lifted an eyebrow. “You'll think of something. You've got to play these people like musical instruments. Either they blend in with harmony, or you can use discord to make them talk."

"You may have a point,” Marla conceded.

"If you think one of them paid Carlos to unlock the back door at your salon, then find out where everyone was that night. Also, who else besides Wendy knew Mrs. Kravitz had an early hair appointment?"

"Good questions."

"So they are, although I don't know why I'm helping you. In my opinion, you should leave this stuff to Detective Vail.” Tally's face broke into a smile. “You can be very stubborn when you set your mind to do something, and I know you won't leave well enough alone. Just be careful, and stop blaming yourself for what happened."

Marla opened her mouth for a retort but the waiter returned with their orders.
Gosh, that slice of brownie pie is big enough for two! And look at that mound of whipped cream dribbled with fudge
. She'd never be able to finish it.

"You've got to help me!” she pleaded, shoving the plate forward. “Here, have some. This is too much!"

Tally laughed, dipping her spoon into the treat. “This isn't my week for desserts, but you've forced me. Umm, it's so-o-o good!"

Small talk occupied the time until the bill came. As they walked to the exit, Tally turned to her.

"Call me tomorrow after your meeting with Todd. I want to know you got home safely."

"All right, if you promise to keep me informed about you and Ken. I really don't think he could be involved with someone else, Tally. He's always been so devoted to you."

"Not these days.” She hugged Marla, and they went their separate ways in the parking lot.

A heavy stillness, dominated by the rich smell of rotting vegetation, hung in the night air. In the distance, a flash of lightning ripped the skies, illuminating clouds sodden with moisture. Storms heralded the approach of summer hurricanes, even though the official season didn't start until June.

Driving home before the rain came, she pondered her conversation with Tally. How drastically her life had changed since last week. Obstacles blocked her path where before there were none, but at least she didn't have to face them alone. Friends like Arnie and Tally were ready to pitch in, as was Lance. Tonight wouldn't be too soon to call him.

The neighborhood was quiet as she pulled into her garage. She got her mail and turned to go inside when her eye caught on a return address. Galloway and Myers, Attorneys-At-Law. Oh, no.

Her stomach constricted as she tore open the envelope in her brightly lit kitchen. Quickly she scanned the letter embossed with the firm's name as though the paper itself could intimidate the recipient. Roy Collins, on behalf of Sunshine Publishing, intended to sue for the amount of $250,000 owing to the loss of publisher and president, Bertha Kravitz, who died on the premises of Cut ‘N Dye Beauty Salon because of the negligence of said owner, Marla Shore.

Damnation! Marla slammed the paper down on the counter and paced the kitchen, her blood boiling. How dare the man accuse her of neglect! Who knew Bertha would consume poison in the brief time she was gone? She'd only wanted to get some clean towels from the storeroom. She hadn't been the one who'd added cyanide to the powdered creamer. Someone else who'd known Bertha had a hair appointment that morning had done it ... maybe even another customer. She hadn't considered that idea before because a relative or close business associate was a more likely suspect.

Her eyes narrowed, and she skidded to a halt. Maybe it was Roy Collins. This lawsuit could be his attempt at a cover-up. Wendy might get her aunt's fortune, but who gained control of the company? Did Bertha's partnership with Roy include right of survivorship?