Styled for Murder Read online

  Her muscles eased once she pulled into her driveway and got Ryder inside. He refused his bottle and wouldn’t go down readily for a nap. Her son only calmed down when she held him in her arms and sat in the armchair in his room. She leaned her head against the cushion, her eyes half-closing as she stifled a yawn.

  The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Fortunately, the fever turned out to be a short-term event, and Ryder went back to school on Wednesday. Marla had a busy day at the salon and looked forward to her free morning on Thursday.

  That day arrived, and Marla groggily went about her morning duties. She didn’t have to go in to work on Thursdays until one o’clock. Brianna had left the house earlier, after taking care of the dogs.

  The phone rang, and she saw on the caller ID it was her mother. They’d been keeping in touch via text messages and nothing alarming had arisen. At least, not until now.

  “Detective Wanner called last night,” Anita said in a tremulous tone. “He wants Reed to come down to the station to answer more questions. Wanner has officially labeled the case a homicide.”

  Chapter Three

  Marla inserted her earpiece so she could pack the baby’s meal for daycare while speaking to her mother. “Did Wanner say why he was interviewing Reed again?” she asked as she added Ryder’s bagged and labeled snacks to his sack. Dalton was getting him dressed for the day. It took the two of them to manage one child, but they had the routine down pat by now.

  “The detective was his usual tight-lipped self. Do we need a lawyer? What’s the best approach for Reed to take? You’re used to these things from helping Dalton, but we’re not. My heart races whenever I hear the detective’s voice.”

  “Calm down, Ma. You’ll get through this. What does Reed say?”

  “He shrugs it off, but I can tell he’s concerned. It worries me why he was so insistent on hiring this company. I should have done more research on them.”

  Marla rolled her eyes. Ma would rather play mahjongg or meet her friends for lunch than spend time at the computer. She enjoyed going out, while Reed often stayed home with his books or the TV news channel. Lately, he’d been thinking about tutoring, which Marla thought was a great idea. He’d mentioned golfing lessons as well.

  “Reed said he had his reasons,” she responded. “I’ve hired people whose estimates were higher because I figured they’d do a better job. As for Detective Wanner, it’s merely a matter of routine for him to question everyone involved, even if it seems repetitive. Tell Reed not to provide any additional information on his own.”

  “All right, thanks. He doesn’t want me to go with him.”

  “I’m sure he appreciates your support, nonetheless. At any rate, I can’t talk right now. We’re getting Ryder ready for school.”

  “How is he feeling? I loved that photo you sent of him wearing sunglasses. He looked adorable.”

  “I know. He’s such a cutie. He has his appetite back, thank goodness.”

  “We’ll have to plan a family gathering after this awful business is resolved. Hey, you have some time free this morning. Why don’t you stop over at Amaze Design Center? You can meet the staff there. It could prove useful.”

  So this is really why you called. You want me to put on my sleuthing hat. “Ma, I have a million chores to do this morning.”

  “The place isn’t far from you. It’s in Cooper City. Please, for my sake?”

  Marla winced at her mother’s pleading tone. How could she refuse? It would bring Anita peace of mind if she agreed.

  “Okay, but then I’m booked solid for the rest of the week, and Sunday we’re planning to take Ryder to the park. He loves the baby swings.”

  Anita offered a few parting words and signed off, leaving Marla feeling guilty that she wasn’t doing more to help solve the case. She’d sworn off snooping when Ryder entered her life. If her mother weren’t involved, she wouldn’t step into those shoes again.

  Her neck muscles taut, she relieved Dalton of duty in the baby’s room so he could shave and get dressed. The shadows under his eyes proclaimed his lack of sleep. He’d gotten up at one o’clock when Ryder had started fussing. Was this one of the child’s sleep regressive stages she’d read about, or were they already past that part? She couldn’t remember it in her brain fog.

  Marla proceeded to feed Ryder his breakfast. He played with his food more than he ate the pieces she’d cut up, but he drank most of his milk.

  The sound of Dalton’s footsteps alerted her that it was time to get ready for the day. As much as she loved being with Ryder, going into the salon each day helped her stay sane. It also made her more appreciative of the time they spent together.

  By the time she dropped her son off at daycare, it was after nine. She looked online via her cell phone and noted the design center was already open. She could make a quick stop there to appease her mother before doing her other errands.

  ****

  The warehouse district in Cooper City seemed out of place in a quiet residential neighborhood. As she pulled into a parking space, Marla contemplated how best to approach the staff. They might clam up if she admitted her mother’s connection to the foreman. She could pretend to have an interest in their services. Her house in Royal Oaks might only be a few years old, but there were always improvements to make.

  A few scraggly palms decorated the swale. The grass had been freshly cut, imbuing the air with a sun-kissed scent. The sweet floral fragrance of April blossoms drifted her way from a flowering tree that stood forlorn by itself. Its white blooms matched the color of cars in the parking lot. Next door to the design company was a framing studio on one side and an engraving business on the other. An auto body shop was two doors down, its bay doors closed.

  Marla pushed open the door with the design company’s logo and paused to survey the interior. Ahead stretched a vast expanse littered with decorating choices—sample showers, sinks, kitchen cabinets, bathroom vanities, lighting, drawer hardware and more. She paused inside the threshold, fascinated by the possibilities while sniffing the faint scent of sawdust.

  Nobody occupied the reception area, but she heard raised voices coming from an office to her right. A man’s angry tone was countered by a woman’s snappish replies. Marla edged closer, figuring she should make her presence known.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” she called.

  The voices stopped. A brunette scurried from the room, halting when she spotted Marla standing out front. The aggravated expression on the woman’s face washed away, replaced by a falsely polite smile. It did little to disguise the irritation that still showed in her hazel eyes.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you had come in. I’m Caroline Henderson, the company’s administrative assistant.” The woman spoke in a molasses-smooth voice with a slight Southern accent.

  Marla scanned her flowery maxi-dress that perfectly fit her slim figure. With her wavy hair and flawless complexion, she could have stood in for a Belle of the South, minus the wide-brimmed hat.

  “I’m Marla Vail. My husband and I are interested in redoing our bathroom.” Marla handed over a business card, always ready to promote her salon.

  “Awesome. You’ve come to the right place. Here’s a questionnaire for you to fill out, and then I’ll make you an appointment with our architectural designer.” After handing Marla a clipboard, she nodded to a round table and chairs off to the side. “You can sit over there.”

  Marla put the clipboard down on the front counter, meaning to get the woman talking. “I just want to get a ballpark number on how much something like this will cost before I fill out any paperwork. We have a limited budget.”

  “That depends on what you want done. Is it a full renovation or a partial?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as she assessed Marla’s potential to become a valued customer.

  “Probably a full makeover,” she lied, thinking of their beautifully designed master bathroom. She and Dalton had paid extra for upgrades when they’d had the house built. She loved their spaci
ous shower and modern cabinets.

  “Filling out our form doesn’t obligate you to anything. It gives us an idea of where to start,” Caroline told her, a stubborn edge in her tone.

  She must be hard-pressed to book new customers, Marla thought. Perhaps she got a commission from each person who signed a contract.

  “I understand,” she said, placing her hands on the counter and leaning forward. “When new clients walk into my salon, I have them fill out a questionnaire. It’s important to know if they’ve had adverse effects from hair dye in the past or if they have medical conditions that could affect their hair. Our receptionist, Robyn, has them fill it out. How many people staff this place?”

  Caroline smirked. “Three of us work here full-time. Nadia is our interior architect, although I call her a designer. She’s the person who would work with you to meet your vision.”

  “What’s the difference between a designer and an architect?”

  “An interior architect designs building interiors, while an interior designer focuses on furnishing and decorating a place. Nadia has her own office as does Brad. That’s where he works his magic with numbers.”

  “He’s your accountant?”

  Her expression faltered, and she glanced toward the suite of offices as a flush crept up her face. “Bradley Quinn is our president.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “Nothing much. Brad keeps the company records, that’s all.” She winked at Marla. “My job is more important. I’m the person who hires the independent subcontractors and makes their assignments.”

  “It sounds as though you run the daily operations.”

  “Just so. Brad is very appreciative of my work.”

  In what way? Does the boss give you bonuses under the table, or is your relationship more than a professional one?

  “You must be very knowledgeable about the business,” Marla said since Caroline appeared to respond to flattery. What else did she do for the firm? They couldn’t get many clients in here each day, so the receptionist job wouldn’t take up much time. “Are you also in charge of social media and advertising? My receptionist does the marketing for our salon. I wouldn’t have the time or the skill set.”

  Caroline lifted her chin. “That would be me. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do. You can give us a call if you have any further questions or look up our FAQ online.”

  No doubt they got people in there fairly often who made inquiries and never signed a contract. Marla wasn’t deterred by the dismissal. Any tidbit of information helped her cause. The job foreman had died at her mother’s house. Who were his associates? The office housed the administrative assistant, the in-house architect, and the company president. How about the guys who worked in the field?

  The more she learned, the more suspects she could add to her list. She only hoped that Detective Wanner was being as thorough. Had he already been by here to question the staff?

  “I have to go to work shortly, too,” Marla said, fluttering her hand in the air. “But first, I need more details to tell my husband. Like, who could we expect on the job site? It’s such a hassle having workers in the house. We’d have to stay home to let them in, for example.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed. By now, she might be suspecting Marla had an ulterior motive for being there. “That’s not a problem. You could hide a key outside or unlock the door for them if you have to leave the house. It’s usually no more than two guys at a time. Our main contractors do the basic demolition and construction. Then you’d have various specialists come in to do their parts.”

  “Do the same crews work all the jobs?”

  “We have several general contractors but only one project manager.” Caroline’s face puckered. “Unfortunately, Jack passed away recently. We haven’t gotten a replacement yet.”

  “I’m so sorry. Had he been ill?”

  “No, it was unexpected. We’re still coming to grips with his death.”

  Marla clucked her tongue. “Poor man. His family must be devastated. Was he married?”

  “Jack was divorced, and I doubt his ex-girlfriend will grieve for him.”

  “That’s sad. At least his colleagues will miss him.”

  “Huh. Not with his track record. I mean, of course we’ll be lost without him. Jack was skilled at his job.”

  Track record? As in, poor communication with customers? Caroline didn’t sound very upset over his loss.

  “What about the projects he was supervising?” she asked.

  “We’re working on it.” Caroline gave her a pointed glare. “Would you like me to set a date for you to meet with Nadia?”

  Marla took the questionnaire off the clipboard and lay the board on the counter. “Not yet. I’ll take this home and fill it out with my husband.”

  “Here’s our brochure. It lists our services and website.” The woman handed one over and stood, clearly finished with their interview.

  Marla exited, feeling satisfied by what she’d learned about the company’s structure. It might allay her mother’s worries if she knew Jack had other business associates that the detective could investigate.

  Errands took up the rest of her morning and then it was time to head to the salon. Familiar scents and sounds impacted her senses as soon as she entered through the front door to an accompanying jingle of chimes.

  Robyn Piper, the receptionist, greeted her from the front desk. She’d done a recent makeover, adding a magenta streak to her shoulder-length brown hair and switching from black-framed eyeglasses to contact lenses. She had even given up her corporate-style business suits for funkier clothes with flashy jewelry. But if she had hoped this change would improve her social life, she’d been disappointed. Nobody she’d dated recently had impressed her.

  Robyn gestured for Marla to approach her desk. “I’ve put your schedule at your station. I hope it’s okay that I plugged a color correction into your two-thirty slot. Some lady used an at-home kit and now has orange hair.”

  Marla grinned at the mental image. “It’s fine. How was your date last night? Any luck with this one?”

  “Nope. Wyatt was nice but bor-ing. All he talked about was how he sold HVAC units and the benefits of various smart thermostats.”

  “Will you be seeing him again?”

  “I don’t think so. Saturday night, I’m going out with Bruce. Remember, he’s the dermatologist who wants to teach me how to play chess?” She stuck out her tongue at the thought. “I like him, though. He’s funny and attractive.”

  “It isn’t easy to find decent guys who are single when you’re in your thirties. You can’t be so picky. If he’s into chess, you can always give it a try if you like him otherwise.”

  In Marla’s view, Robyn was too skittish about commitment. She’d been burned before, having married young and divorced a short time afterward. But her biological clock was ticking, not that it seemed to matter to her.

  “We’ll see,” Robyn said in a nonchalant tone. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”

  Not if you don’t work at it, Marla thought.

  “You’ll never guess who called,” Robyn continued. “We got an invite for our stylists to work at this year’s garlic festival. They want us to do the hair for the contestants in their beauty pageant. The coordinator heard about us through one of the ladies on their committee.”

  Marla’s jaw gaped. “Are you for real? That would be awesome. Dalton and I were planning to go anyway. Did you respond?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I said yes. There’s no pay, but we’d share in the publicity.” Robyn clapped her hands. “It sounds like so much fun. I’ve always wanted to taste garlic ice cream, and they’ll have all sorts of food booths.”

  “How many stylists would we need?” Marla asked, spinning the planning wheels in her head.

  “There are twelve finalists. We’d have two hours total in the prep area.”

  “Hmm, if we bring three stylists, each of us could do four girls in that time. I’ll see wh
o else is interested. What kind of mention will we get?” While honored to have been asked, Marla couldn’t help wondering how it might benefit the salon.

  Robyn’s eyes gleamed. “Besides a credit in the program book, we’d get free tickets and access to the V.I.P. tent. I’ll include myself in the group, so that would make four of us.” She paused. “Wait a minute. What will you do with Ryder?”

  “Dalton can push him around in his stroller. Or maybe I’ll ask my mother and Reed to meet us there, and they can watch him. With all that’s going on, they could use a break. My mother is a nervous wreck. She asked me to stop by the design center to learn what I could about their operations. I went by there this morning.” Marla had filled Robyn in on the case earlier.

  Robyn gave her a questioning glance. “I thought you were going to let the police detective handle things.”

  “I was hoping to stay out of it, but I couldn’t refuse Ma’s request. Besides, I learned a few things that might be useful.”

  The front door chimes sounded, and their conversation ended. Marla’s one o’clock appointment had arrived.

  As she got busy with her customer, Marla nodded hello to the other stylists. Nicole at the next chair cast curious glances her way. Eager to confide in her mystery-loving friend about the morning’s escapade, Marla managed to keep the latest news from her lips until they had a spare moment together.

  Marla tossed the used foils from her last bleach job into the trash. Gosh, had it almost been a year since Nicole and Kevin had gotten married? She studied her friend’s sleek figure, knowing she was trying to get pregnant. Nicole looked as slim as ever.

  “What’s up, Marla? You look like a snake that’s just swallowed a meal.” Nicole swiped a drop of cleaning agent off her warm brown skin. She was wiping down her counter before her next client arrived.

  “I paid a visit this morning to the design center and met Caroline. She’s an admin assistant who pretty much runs the place. The other full-time staffers are the company president and the interior architect.”