Trimmed to Death Read online

  “Allow me to introduce the bake-off sponsor, Tony Winters,” said the emcee. “Tony is vice president of Amalfi Consolidated. His company supplies the wonderful olive oils and other imported goods you can buy at the marketplace store. His lovely wife, Janet, organized today’s events for us.”

  Tony crossed the stage to loud applause. He held an envelope in his hand. “As you know, the prize for this contest is a small business grant. In addition to paying an entry fee, each entrant had to submit a business plan related to the food industry. The city council selected the twelve competitors. At the festival, members of the public were invited to purchase tickets to sample the entries. Our company donates a portion of the proceeds to the Safety First Alliance. This worthy organization aims to protect our children and pets from being left in hot cars. I urge you to stop by their booth over there and collect a brochure. Meanwhile, it gives me great pleasure to announce the winner of this year’s bake-off competition.”

  The crowd fell silent as he tore open the envelope. A ten-thousand-dollar award was a significant prize. Local news people up front poised their cameras to snap photos while others took video recordings.

  “And the prize goes to Gabrielle Sinclair for her pineapple torte and her plan to go public with her catering business. Gabrielle, I offer my sincere congratulations. You’ll do us proud.”

  The highlighted brunette rushed onstage to accept her award. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to use this money to expand my services. We’ve been home-based until now, but with these funds I can hire more staff and lease a place in town.” She kissed Tony on the cheek and took the check from his hand.

  “Darn, now I’ll have to find another partner for my boutique café,” Tally griped.

  “Have you spoken to anyone else about it, or did you have your heart set on Gabrielle?” Marla asked.

  “I haven’t really been looking, but I can start a new search. I’m eager to get my business up and running, Marla. I think I’ve found the perfect location. We should make a date so I can show you.”

  “Most definitely. I’d love to see it.” Sirens sounded in the distance, while Marla’s attention returned to the emcee, who stood alone on the stage once more.

  “Unfortunately, nobody has brought in a token for the Find Franny game this year. Francine must have hidden herself so well that she couldn’t be found.” He chuckled at his remark. “But we have prizes for those of you who’ve earned your stamps. Local businesses have generously donated goods and services, so please turn in your cards at the ticket desk. The first twenty people with filled cards will get a prize.”

  A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd, but it quickly turned into confusion. A bevy of police cars arrived along with a crime scene van and a sedan that Marla recognized as belonging to the medical examiner. A cloud of dust trailed in their path as they skidded to a halt on a patch of grass.

  She swallowed hard, anticipating what would follow.

  Soon word would get out that a body had been found in the fields, and it was none other than the elusive Find Franny.

  Chapter Three

  Dalton, taking over as lead investigator on the case, dismissed Marla and Tally. He’d get their formal statements later. Meanwhile, Tally had to get home to her son.

  “I hope you’ll let me know what you learn about Francine,” Tally said during the drive east on I-595. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”

  “Tell me about it. Dalton isn’t happy I found another body.”

  “He must be used to it by now. Someone had to be upset with Francine to whack her on the head.”

  “That would make it a crime of opportunity, especially if this person followed her to the fields. I can’t help wondering if it was one of us. From the bake-off, I mean. Francine had words with some of the other contestants.”

  “Oh, come on. Francine wasn’t all that friendly with the judges, either. Or it could have been somebody from the scavenger hunt.”

  “Not as likely. The people who played characters in the game stuck around the festival area and weren’t hard to find.” Marla stared at the scenery as they passed an IKEA store on the left and shopping strips on the right.

  “Did you notice anyone missing from the bake-off contestants before we met up at the judging stand?” Tally asked.

  “I was busy looking for Francine. What about you?”

  “I’ve got nothing. How do we know Francine was the intended target? She wore Alyce’s jacket. If she got hit from behind, the bad guy could have mistaken her for Alyce.”

  “That’s always a possibility.” Marla recalled Carlton’s surprised expression upon spotting Alyce by the bandstand.

  “Anyway, let’s put aside this unpleasant topic,” Tally said, her grip firm on the steering wheel. “Too bad neither of us won the bake-off. At least Dalton got the prize for best homegrown tomato.”

  “He’ll be very proud. I haven’t let him know yet. He has enough on his mind right now. As for our competition, I’m glad the Safety First Alliance benefits from the ticket sales and entry fees, although I would have liked for you to win.”

  Tally shrugged. “I’ll use some of Ken’s life insurance money to restart the shop. I’d planned to do that anyway. I love the new location I’ve found. The restaurant on the corner will draw in visitors from Sawgrass Mills Mall, and the rates are reasonable since the center is still new. Plus, this would be a five minute drive to the day care center, so that’s a bonus.”

  “I assume there isn’t anywhere in Palm Haven you can go?” Marla said in a wistful tone. She didn’t the idea of Tally moving farther away.

  “I need a fresh start, Marla. I’ll likely sell the house and move closer to my new shop. I’ve told you all this before. But what about your plans? We’re always talking about me. You’ve been trying to get pregnant for months now.”

  Marla, startled by the remark, emitted a cough to hide her reaction. “We’re not getting anywhere in that regard. Do you think it’s too early for me to see a fertility specialist?”

  “What does your gynecologist say?”

  “He says to be patient. I’m thirty-eight, and it could take me longer to conceive. But what if my chance has come and gone?”

  “So make an appointment with another doctor and get a second opinion.”

  “Dalton says I shouldn’t stress over it. We hadn’t planned on having children when we got married.”

  Tally nodded. “And now that you want them, it’s more difficult. I wish I’d had the opportunity to have more than one child. Luke is a doll, but he could use a brother or sister.”

  Marla cast her friend an oblique glance. She’d been hesitant to broach this subject. Tally had been mourning her husband ever since she’d woken from the post car-crash coma. “You might meet someone else,” she suggested.

  “True, but the thought of dating scares me more than being alone for the rest of my life.”

  Marla lifted her brows. It sounded as though Tally had been considering the prospect of going out again. Although she was six months younger than Marla, Tally could pass for a woman in her late twenties. Any guy would be lucky to snag her attention.

  “You’re still young,” Marla told her friend. “Ken would want you to be happy. When you’re ready, I’ll bet there will be some decent guys out there for you.”

  “I’m not rushing into anything in that regard. It’s too soon.” Tally’s grip tightened on the wheel. “I can’t apologize to you enough for keeping secrets between us. When Ken got involved in that insurance fraud case and I found out about it, I should have confided in you. Instead, I shut you out.”

  “Ken swore you to secrecy. He meant to protect you. We’ve talked about this.”

  “But I alienated you and put the cold freeze on our friendship. My silence almost cost Luke his life. I should have told you what I knew.”

  “And what was that? Someone in Ken’s office was filing false claims, but he didn’t know which team member was involved? He reported his sus
picions and agreed to help track the culprit. You got involved once he told you what was going on.”

  Tally winced. “You don’t have to remind me. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been in the car that night.”

  “You went along because you loved your husband.” Marla recalled her friend’s explanation of events once she’d regained her wits. Tally had confessed the whole sorry story and begged forgiveness from Marla for not confiding in her. “If Dalton told me about a case and swore me to secrecy, I’d do the same. We’re past this, Tally. No matter what gets thrown at us from now on, we’ll be here for each other.”

  Tally nodded, her eyes glistening. “You got that right. Moving on to the present, who can I ask to work with me on my business plan, since Gabrielle will no longer be interested?”

  Marla was glad to change the subject. She and Tally had discussed the secrets of the past ad nauseam. It had restored their friendship and made them stronger together.

  “You’ll find another chef,” she offered in a soothing tone. “Look for a talented professional who’s starting out and wants a place to display her skills.”

  Tally’s face brightened. “That’s an idea. I could approach graduates from the local culinary school. But they’ll eventually want to move on to bigger and better things.”

  “Not necessarily. They might want to keep a foothold in your shop as an advertisement. If people get a taste, they may follow the chef to her newest restaurant.”

  “True, I can play up that angle. Thanks, Marla.”

  They fell silent during the rest of the drive home, while Marla pondered on how far Tally had come since she’d opened her eyes in the hospital.

  The news that Ken had been killed in the accident and that it had been a deliberate attempt on their lives had hit hard. Marla had stayed by her side while Tally underwent months of rehab to regain her strength. Eventually, she’d rallied for the sake of her infant son. Tally had sold her husband’s insurance agency and invested the money. Along with Ken’s life insurance proceeds, she had enough for a comfortable life.

  “Let me know what you learn from Dalton,” Tally told her after they’d pulled into Marla’s driveway. “It was such a fun event until you found Francine.”

  “Sure, we’ll talk soon. Give Luke a kiss for me.”

  Marla entered her house through the front door. Their two dogs leapt to greet her. She bent to give Lucky and Spooks each a friendly pat. The golden retriever and cream-colored poodle trailed her into the kitchen.

  Brianna called out a greeting from the family room. The sixteen-year-old slouched on the sofa watching one of her recorded shows. Her straight brown hair hung down her back, and a smidgen of dark liner ringed her eyes. She wore a pair of jean shorts and a patterned top and had kicked off her sandals.

  After putting her show on pause, Brianna gazed at her with curiosity. “Where’s Dad? Why didn’t you come in through the garage?”

  “Tally brought me home. There was an incident at the fair. Your dad has been delayed.” Marla related what had happened, ending with Francine’s death and the subsequent storm of police vehicles on the farm’s property.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. A woman was murdered?” Brianna exited the recording and switched off the TV.

  “I can’t believe it either.” Marla threw her purse on a counter, washed her hands at the kitchen sink, and then joined Brianna on the L-shaped sofa. “Why does this always happen to me?”

  “The universe must know you can deal with it,” Brianna said, echoing Dalton’s theory. “Tell me about the dead woman.”

  Marla found she wanted to talk. Even though Francine was nearly a stranger, nobody should experience a premature death by force. “We met at the bake-off. Francine was publisher of Eat Well Now magazine.”

  “Did you see her arguing with someone she might have ticked off?”

  “Not that I recall, but I did sense an undercurrent at the bake-off. Some of those folks knew each other, and I didn’t get a friendly vibe.”

  “Does she have family in the area?”

  Marla’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know anything about her personal life. Your father will have to investigate those things along with the contest judges and other participants.”

  “Maybe someone at the publication wanted her out of the way. Why did she enter the competition? Didn’t entrants have to submit a business proposal?”

  “Good point. Maybe Francine’s proposal would have disrupted things at the magazine. I’ll suggest to Dalton that he take a look at everyone’s business plans.”

  Brianna gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you or Tally didn’t win.”

  “Thanks, but I’m happy the Safety First Alliance benefits from the event. Hey, your dad won the best homegrown tomato award. He doesn’t even know it yet. I accepted the certificate and prize on his behalf.”

  “Awesome! He’ll be excited. But what about your own plans since you didn’t win?”

  She heaved a sigh. “I suppose Arnie can continue to supply bagels for our customers.”

  Arnie Hartman ran the deli next door to Marla’s salon and day spa. They’d been friends for years. She wouldn’t want to compete with him, even though it would have been nice to have a bistro in her day spa. She’d consider it a courtesy to clients who didn’t care to leave the premises. She had been selling Tally’s dress shop stock in her spa’s lounge and was thinking ahead to when her friend reopened her boutique. The space would be perfect for a cozy café.

  Speaking of food, she needed to prepare dinner. She rose and shot Brianna a regretful glance. “I feel sorry for the guy who owns the farm. The negative publicity might cause him to rethink hosting the event next year. It brings in a lot of money to various causes.”

  “Not your problem, Marla. But this is.” Brianna scampered from the couch to follow her into the kitchen. “I’d like to start prepping for the SATs, and I’ll need your help with the math portion. Not the calculations, but the real-life applications. You do the bookkeeping for the salon. Teach me what you know.”

  ****

  On Tuesday morning, Marla entered Bagel Busters to get the salon’s customary bagel platter for clients. The deli’s proprietor stood behind the cash register, wearing his usual apron over a tee shirt and jeans. His mustache quivered as he grinned at her arrival.

  “I hear you’ve had an exciting weekend,” Arnie Hartman said, his voice retaining a slight New York accent. “I saw the news on television. How’s the investigation going?”

  “Dalton has a few leads. His team found the murder weapon, but it didn’t have any prints.” They’d discovered the shovel lying in a water-filled ditch bordering the row of sugar cane plants, but she couldn’t reveal this fact. “Either the killer had wiped it clean, or the person had been wearing gloves. The most logical culprit would be a farm hand. I assume they wear work gloves to operate their equipment, and they have plenty of tools lying around. Who else would come prepared that way?”

  “Is Dalton suspecting someone among the farm staff?” Arnie asked.

  Marla spread her hands. “He hasn’t discussed a whole lot with me at this stage. It’s too early in the investigation, and he has interviews to conduct.”

  “Can you sit a minute?” At her nod, Arnie signaled to a waitress to stand in for him. He led Marla to an empty table where they took seats across from each other.

  “I can’t stay long. My first client comes in at nine.” Marla wondered what was on his mind. She’d known Arnie for years, ever since she had opened her salon in the same shopping strip. She had been twenty-six then and he’d been thirty. Four years later, his first wife died in a car accident. He was left with two small children.

  When he made romantic overtures toward her, Marla had turned him down. She’d been interested in friendship, nothing more. Fortunately, Arnie had reunited with an old classmate and ended up marrying the woman’s friend. That had been an interesting encounter, Marla recalled with an inner smile. She and Jill ha
d become close, double-dating with their spouses on occasion.

  Arnie folded his hands on the table. “I have a favor to ask you. I’d appreciate it if you’d talk to the farm owner, Zach Kinsdale, to get his viewpoint on things.”

  “What? You’re usually telling me to keep my nose out of police business.”

  “I know, and I trust your husband to ferret out the truth and bring the criminal to justice. But you have skills that can help and might clear Zach from any suspicion.”

  “What’s this man to you, Arnie?” It was unlike him to ask her to get involved.

  He sighed and ruffled a hand through his peppery hair. “I’m friends with his son, Rory. He’s afraid they’ll lose the place.”

  “I can understand the negative publicity causing a drop in visitors, but it won’t last long. By the next harvest festival, people will have forgotten. Or do you know something about the farm that you’re not saying?”

  “I didn’t always want to own a deli, you know,” Arnie replied in a wistful tone. “My father had operated a bagel place when we lived in Manhattan, and I grew up working in the restaurant every weekend. Pop expected me to take it over one day, but I wasn’t interested. Then Pop dropped dead suddenly. After we buried him, my mom sold the business, and we moved to Florida to be near my aunt.”

  Marla wondered where he was going with his tale. This was stuff he’d never told her before. Why now?

  “I went to high school here, and that’s where I met Rory,” Arnie continued. “Like me, his father had wanted him to join the family business after graduation. But we had bigger dreams. With all the tourists coming to Florida, we thought we could succeed in the hospitality industry. I used most of my inheritance money and Rory got a loan from his mother to start a boutique hotel on Fort Lauderdale Beach.”

  “Omigosh, I never knew that about you.”

  His head bent, Arnie played with the salt shaker on the table. “We failed. It’s not a chapter in my history I care to discuss. I’ve been much more successful with the deli because I had experience in the food business that I didn’t have with hotels. I started the deli with my remaining money. Rory went back to work on the farm. But we kept in touch.”