Trimmed to Death Page 2

  “How’d it go?” he asked. He cut a handsome figure in his belted blue jeans and tucked-in sport shirt.

  Marla’s nerves fired at his proximity as her body responded. “Fine. We met the judges and the other contestants. Tally and I want to join the Find Franny hunt.”

  “You go ahead. I’m starving. The barbecue wagon is calling to me.”

  “I thought you wanted to pick strawberries when we finished here.”

  “It might be better to come back another time when there’s less of a crowd.”

  Marla surveyed the fields stretching into the distance. “Not too many folks are out there today. Guess they’re more interested in the fun goings-on.”

  “Let’s meet inside the market at four o’clock,” Dalton said in his commanding tone. “Where’s Tally?”

  “She’s talking to some people she knows.”

  “Too bad she didn’t bring Luke. He might have enjoyed this place.”

  The mention of Tally’s baby brought a twinge of longing to Marla’s heart. She’d cared for the infant while Tally was in the hospital and missed him dearly.

  “It’s good for Tally to get out on her own and meet new people. It’ll help her heal and accept her loss. When she reopens her dress store, she’ll have even less free time. Besides, she spends hours with Luke already.” Her friend still had to recover psychologically, if not physically, from her hidden wounds.

  “She’s checked in with the sitter, hasn’t she?” Dalton asked, a crease between his brows. As a homicide detective, he tended to be suspicious of everyone, especially after the last case that had hit close to home.

  “Of course she’s called. Don’t be such a worrywart. With her video monitoring system, Tally can see Luke on her cell phone.” When Dalton opened his mouth to speak, Marla put a finger to his lips. “Don’t say it. If we ever have children, we’ll have to learn to trust someone as well. I’m not going to be glued to the house with a baby.”

  His gaze sparked, and he rubbed her belly. “I can’t wait for you to have that choice.”

  Marla stepped back. “We have Brianna in the meantime, and she keeps us busy enough.” Her stepdaughter would be a senior in high school next year, and then she’d go away to college. They’d be empty nesters unless Marla got pregnant.

  “I’d better see what Brianna is doing, now that you’ve reminded me,” Dalton said.

  “Leave her alone, Dalton. She might be driving, and you don’t want to distract her.”

  His frown deepened. “Why does that thought upset me?”

  “She’ll be fine. You have to let the baby bird learn how to fly.”

  As Marla turned away, she realized she had her own issues with letting go. An ache in her chest for Tally’s son hit her hard. She missed his sweet innocence and powdery baby smell. Her gaze fell upon all the couples with strollers at the fair, and she heaved a sigh. It had taken her a long time to consider having children of her own. Now she had to live with her decisions.

  The Find Franny game would be a fun diversion. She paid the five-dollar registration fee and received a printed set of rules along with a card divided into eight sections. Gamers had to get each square stamped before finding Francine.

  “We have to split up,” Marla said to Tally with a note of disappointment. They’d met up again at the registration table. “This says no teams are allowed. That sucks.”

  Tally chuckled. “You should love this game. It will test your sleuthing skills, Marla. You might be the expert in solving murder cases along with Dalton, but I’m good at finding things. I bet I win first place.”

  Marla’s heart warmed. Seeing Tally happy was a prize in itself. “Hey, I’ve got this. It’ll be easy. All we have to do is follow the clues. May the best woman win!”

  As Tally loped off in another direction, Marla grinned at the challenge ahead. After all, what could be so difficult about a live scavenger hunt?

  Chapter Two

  Marla scrutinized the squares on her card, reading the instructions on how to identify the individuals involved. Each person wore an item of clothing depicting a particular character. Patty Pepper, Eddie Eggplant, Tommy Tomato, Betty Blueberry, Carl Carrot, Mabel Mushroom, Laura Lettuce, and Kenny Kale made up the eight squares.

  To earn a stamp, participants had to correctly answer a question. Franny the Queen Bee would present each gamer with a token when they found her last and had all eight squares stamped. The first person to turn in the stamped card and token won the grand prize.

  Marla discovered Patty Pepper weaving through the crowd. The middle-aged woman had on a sweater with red and green peppers woven into the design.

  “Here’s your question, dear,” Patty said when Marla stopped her. “Which foods are better for you—red or white?”

  Marla didn’t even have to think about it. She’d been told often enough by Tally to avoid white foods like pastries, breads, and pasta. “Beta-carotene is a pigment found in many fruits and vegetables. It gives them their color and has healthful properties, so the answer is red.”

  “That’s correct. The human body converts beta-carotene into vitamin A. We need this substance for healthy skin and good eye health.” The woman stamped her card and gave her a spiel about colorful foods like carrots, cantaloupe, sweet potatoes and peppers.

  As Marla moved on, she decided the game wasn’t as easy to play as she’d thought. An hour or more passed before she tracked down the other individuals. They kept moving and could be anywhere on the property.

  Finally, she had one more to go. Eddie Eggplant was the most elusive, but she finally discovered him in the thatched-roof hut chowing down on barbecued chicken.

  “Should you eat the skins of certain produce, like eggplant, apples, or potatoes?” he asked her between mouthfuls.

  Marla’s stomach growled. The aroma of grilled food was hard to ignore. “Skins can contain a lot of nutrients, so the answer is yes. I’ve been peeling my eggplants, though. Is that wrong?”

  He stamped her card. “Eggplant is a vegetable belonging to the nightshade family, which includes potatoes, tomatoes, and bell peppers. Its skin contains an antioxidant that protects your cell membranes from damage. You can eat the skin, although you’d probably want to peel it on larger eggplants.”

  Marla nodded her agreement. Eggplant skin could be tough to chew when too thick. “Is eggplant flesh beneficial at all?” She liked eggplant parmigiana but wasn’t clear on its nutritive value aside from the tomato sauce.

  He stuffed a forkful of cole slaw into his mouth. “Eggplants contain chlorogenic acid, which has anti-cancer properties among other benefits.” The man didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. His meal clearly interested him more than their conversation.

  “Thanks; I’ll try to pick one up at the fresh market. Enjoy your dinner.”

  Aware that it was almost time for her to meet Dalton, Marla scanned the crowd, looking for Francine. Was she still wearing Alyce’s white jacket over her purple top? Francine was listed as the queen bee. Marla presumed this was because of the worker bee’s role in pollination. Would Francine be wearing a fake crown? Or perhaps a hat with a bee stinger?

  The sun beat down on her head as she traipsed from one site to another without spotting her quarry. Francine didn’t seem to be anywhere around the main buildings or vendors’ alley. Marla had even sped through the petting zoo and kiddie area, peeking inside the bounce house.

  Maybe Francine had taken refuge in the sparsely populated fields. The crowd tended to congregate near the festival tents. Soon the judges would gather on the makeshift stage to announce the winners from the day’s competitions. Country music from the band was still going strong, but the musicians should be winding down soon.

  Wait, what about the open shacks behind the marketplace building? Marla had passed various sheds on her way in from the parking lot. They held empty crates, farm equipment, and a variety of tractors. Francine could be hiding in their vicinity. But when Marla tromped over, she didn’t see any sign of
her target.

  Had anyone else finished the game? Marla meandered over to the registration desk and asked the lady in charge. Nobody had turned in a finished card, the woman told her with a puzzled frown. Usually they had a winner by now.

  A pit of worry gnawed at Marla’s stomach. Where could Francine have gone? She didn’t spy a bee-themed hat or a glittering tiara anywhere.

  That left the fields. She wasn’t keen on trudging down rows of strawberry plants. A text message to Tally confirmed that her friend hadn’t finished the game yet either. Marla called Dalton next. If he was free, maybe he could help. Otherwise, she’d have to give up for lack of time.

  “We have twenty minutes before they announce the winners at the judging stand. I’ll help you find her,” Dalton said in his deep voice that never failed to thrill her. “You take the left side facing the fields. I’ll go to the right when I get over there. I’m at the olive tent. I bought a couple of jars of their tapenade mixture.”

  “Okay, but Francine could be pretty far back if no one else has found her.” The rows of plants stretched endlessly into the distance. Tall stands of sugar cane placed at periodic intervals acted as a wind breaker to protect the crops. Could Francine be hiding behind the nearest clump?

  Concerned about the woman’s absence, Marla headed down the dirt path. The scent of sun-warmed fruit entered her nose. Too bad they didn’t have time to go picking this visit.

  Why would Francine make it so hard for people to find her? The game was due to end shortly.

  Nobody else was around when Marla crossed the second set of sugar cane barriers. The tall grasses exceeded her height and blocked the view ahead.

  On the far side, a water-filled ditch bordered the tall plants before the U-pick rows started up again. A sparkle in the sunlight caught her glance.

  She veered left, stopping short when she saw a tiara on the ground. Bile rose in her throat, and she stifled a scream. Lying beside the fallen crown was a woman sprawled face-down, her white jacket marred with blotches of red. She lay as still as the over-picked plants.

  Marla clapped a hand to her mouth. Oh. My. God. This couldn’t be happening.

  Her gaze swung to the matted blood at the back of the woman’s head. What did that signify? Then again, did it matter right now?

  Marla knelt to feel for a pulse. She retracted her hand quickly from the clammy flesh. There wasn’t anything further she could do to help Francine.

  Her identity was obvious. She still wore the jacket Alyce had given her. Marla recognized the woman’s pixie haircut and the purple top peeking out from her borrowed outerwear.

  No wonder the gamers couldn’t find Francine. The sugar cane hid her body from view.

  What now? Should she call for help, or go to get someone in person? Her heart raced as she made a decision. She’d call Dalton. He would know what to do.

  Marla grabbed her cell phone and punched in his number, reassured by his quick response.

  “I found Francine,” she said in a squeaky tone. “Come quick. I’m beyond the second set of sugar cane plants.”

  Dalton couldn’t have been far because he made it there in minutes. He halted beside her and peered at the woman’s body in disbelief.

  “Good God, Marla. Not another one.” This wasn’t the first time she’d summoned him for similar reasons. He stooped to palpate Francine’s neck. “She’s gone. Did you see anyone else around?” he asked as he straightened and surveyed the field.

  “No, but this could have happened a while ago. The game has been going on for a couple of hours.”

  “You’re certain it’s Francine? When was the last time you saw her?”

  “We’d split up after the bake-off contest. I registered for the scavenger hunt, and then I had to get my card stamped by the other characters. Francine may have come out here to hide before the game even started.”

  “So that would have given someone plenty of time to whack her on the head and get away.”

  “Do you think the blow is what killed her?” Marla’s glance darted to the rows of strawberry plants, the water-lined canal, and the tall sugar cane. Was the culprit watching them from some hidden viewpoint? Should they be worried he might return?

  “That’s not for me to say. The medical examiner will determine the exact cause of death. Hey, you’re trembling. Sorry, you don’t deserve this.” Dalton pulled her into his arms, where she nestled to absorb his strength.

  “Why is it always me?”

  He chuckled against her hair. “The universe must know you’re a seeker of justice. You can stay out of it this time. We’re still in Palm Haven, meaning it’s my jurisdiction. Has Tally left? She could give you a ride home. I’ll be here for a while.”

  Marla stepped back, her pragmatism restored. “Can’t I help? We’re better as a team. You’ve even called me your sidekick before.”

  “You’ll be in the way when my men arrive. It’s smarter for you to go home. We can review things later.”

  He still needs me as a sounding board, Marla thought with an ounce of gratification.

  While he used his cell phone to call for backup and then to take photos, Marla contacted Tally. “Where are you? I may need a ride home.”

  “I’m at the judging stand. Where are you? They’re about to announce the winners.”

  “Do you see Alyce anywhere?” Marla asked.

  “She’s over here. What happened to Francine? I got my card stamped but couldn’t find her for the final token.”

  “I’ve discovered her hiding place. Stay there. I’ll join you in a bit.” She turned to Dalton. “Tally says Alyce Greene is at the judging stand. She and Francine knew each other. They’re similar in appearance. Alyce loaned Francine her jacket because she was cold.”

  “Both women participated in the bake-off contest?” Dalton asked for clarification. “Did Francine come with anyone else, or was she alone?”

  “I have no idea, but I can ask around. Meanwhile, you should get a list of names and addresses from the bake-off organizer. That would include three judges and ten other contestants besides me and Tally.”

  “Good idea.” He pulled out his notebook from a pocket and scribbled in it. “Has anyone noticed Francine’s absence from the scavenger hunt?”

  “None of the contestants would have finished the game. If someone did, they might have been the last person to see her alive.”

  “And the winners are being announced now? Why don’t you go over there and see what’s going on.”

  “Can I tell Tally anything?”

  “Yes, but don’t let anyone overhear you.” He bent to examine an imprint in the dirt.

  Aware his attention had diverted, Marla trudged down the central aisle back toward the raucous crowd. A loudspeaker blared with the announcer’s voice from the makeshift stage.

  “And the homegrown tomato award goes to Dalton Vail,” Marla heard as she approached. The emcee scanned the crowd for the winner.

  Marla jumped up and waved her hand. “Hey, that’s us!” She rushed over to accept the hundred-dollar gift certificate to a local nursery on behalf of her husband. “Have you done the bake-off competition yet?”

  “No, ma’am. That comes after the Apron Artistry award.”

  Marla searched the crowd for Tally’s tall form and found her standing off to the side. On her way over, she passed Carlton Paige ambling toward the assemblage. They bumped arms. Marla meant to excuse herself, but Carlton’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he spied Alyce. The slim woman stood by the judging stand with an impatient expression.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his face reddening.

  “What do you think?” Alyce retorted, turning up her short nose. “I have as much chance of winning as anyone. I’m sure you voted against me, though.”

  Raquel sidled up to them. “We’ll see. I’m sure it won’t be Francine, despite her threats,” she remarked with her Southern accent. “Hey, Tristan is still here. I thought he was leaving early to return
to his restaurant.”

  “What do you mean about Francine?” Marla asked, but just then the third judge hobbled into view.

  “Isn’t it almost time?” Tristan said. “I have to leave, but I wanted to stay for the photos.”

  “You’re limping.” Raquel pointed to his dirt-encrusted boots.

  “The soil here is uneven. I twisted my ankle at a dip in the grass.”

  Marla’s eyes narrowed. None of them had remarked upon Francine’s absence. Francine had been wearing Alyce’s jacket. Carlton had been more surprised than the others at seeing the food blogger. Was that significant?

  Come to think of it, Tristan had a limp she hadn’t noticed before. And Raquel had stated definitively that Francine wouldn’t win. Why? Was she aware the woman was out of the picture?

  “Who else is still around?” Marla asked upon reaching Tally and telling her she’d spotted their judges.

  “I think everyone is here, except for Francine. Whatever happened to her?”

  “I’ll tell you if you don’t breathe a word.” Marla leaned inward and whispered into her friend’s ear.

  Tally’s eyes widened. “Omigod, Marla, that’s horrible.”

  “It looked as though she’d been bashed on the head.” Marla shuddered at the visual image.

  “Why was she out in the fields in the first place?” Tally asked.

  “To hide for the Find Franny game, I would presume.”

  “Is Dalton taking charge of the investigation?”

  “Yes, this falls under his jurisdiction in Palm Haven. Can you give me a ride home? He’ll be here late. I’ll have to transfer the veggies I bought into your car.”

  “Of course. This place is going to turn into a madhouse.”

  At that moment, the emcee announced the award for the apron design contest. Marla’s ears perked up. Their competition came next.

  The announcer gestured for a large man to ascend the stage. He wasn’t big so much as muscular, Marla decided, observing his arrogant stride across the raised platform. The man wore a sport coat, which seemed out of place at a farm festival.