Facials Can Be Fatal Page 6

  Outside, she headed toward her car while deep in thought. Wondering who had been Val’s friends and associates aside from the folks in this organization, she decided it wasn’t her concern. She’d accomplished what she had come to do, and that was to verify her staff’s participation in the fashion show.

  On the way home, she drove through Wilton Manors for a shortcut. She was heading down a main street lined with shops and restaurants when she spotted a familiar face. Was that Ken coming out of a tea room with a strange woman? What was Tally’s husband doing here? And why was that gal hanging onto his arm so intimately?

  Uncertain of her perception, she drove around the corner and did another pass by. The two stood in front of Ken’s gold Acura, deep in conversation. Marla frowned, wondering if this was a business meeting. He could be here for any reason other than what she was thinking.

  Mind your own affairs, she told herself while gripping the steering wheel. Still, after completing a few errands, she activated her cell phone and called her friend Tally.

  “Hey, are you up for a visit? I haven’t seen the baby in a while, and I have some free time.”

  Tally squealed. “I’d love for you to come over. I’m going nuts without adult company.”

  “Can I stop anywhere along the way for you? Do you need supplies or groceries?”

  “Thanks, but I’m not helpless. Come on by. I just baked a pear upside-down cake. We can have some dessert and chat, in between Luke’s feedings and such.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” It’s just a friendly visit, she told herself. Nonetheless, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her sighting of Ken meant something.

  Tally had moved from her comfortable house in Jacaranda to a bigger place in Weston, the hot spot for social climbers. Ken had pressured her to change locations, stating their neighborhood was deteriorating. Marla felt he just wanted to put up a wealthy front for his clients. Formerly a regional director for disaster insurance claims, he’d started his own franchise agency after making a windfall investment in a North Carolina gemstone mine.

  As she pulled into their paved driveway, she admired the tropical landscaping and the colorful winter impatiens that had been planted out front. A cool gust of wind swept her skirt about her legs as she emerged into the early-afternoon sunshine. She’d stopped for a bite to eat, so with lunch done, she could linger if Tally needed help with anything.

  Her friend looked hassled as she swung open the door. Her blonde hair in disarray, the baby tucked on one hip, she appeared as though a helping hand might be welcome. Without waiting for an invitation, Marla strode inside. “How’s Luke? Are you getting any sleep yet?”

  “Holy smokes, Marla, surely you jest.” Tally locked the door and followed Marla into the kitchen. “I’ve made coffee if you want a fresh cup.”

  “I’d love it.” Familiar with their home, Marla grabbed a couple of mugs from a cabinet. She helped herself to a cup from the coffeemaker on the granite counter while Tally cut slices of homemade cake.

  After taking a few sips of her brew, Marla sighed with contentment. “Thanks, I needed a boost of caffeine. Here, let me hold Luke so you can relax.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Tally handed her the squirming bundle.

  Swathed in a blue blanket, the baby lay in her arms and stared up at her. Marla’s heart melted at his sweet innocence. His powdered baby scent drifted her way, making her nuzzle his cheek. His skin was the softest thing she’d ever felt. She pressed her lips gently to his forehead, drinking in this young, new life. Babies were miracles. They came from nothing, grew inside you, and came out fully formed.

  “Marla, what is it?” Tally placed their plates and utensils on the glass kitchen table then sank into a seat. “You have the weirdest look on your face.”

  “I’m thinking how amazing it is to have a child.”

  Tally’s penciled eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

  Marla sat opposite, careful not to jostle the infant. A smile curved her mouth as she played with Luke’s tiny fingers and toes. “He’s so perfect. You are blessed, Tally.”

  “With Luke, I am.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Tally’s blue eyes darkened. “Ken has been acting strange lately.”

  “Uh-oh. In what way?” A lead ball settled into her stomach as she recalled her earlier sighting of Ken at Wilton Manors.

  “I’m not sure. Distant. Like, he doesn’t talk about his day anymore when we sit down to dinner except for a few monosyllables.”

  “Is he working a bad case?”

  “He says things are fine but looks away when he says it. Something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is. Maybe the baby is too much responsibility for him.”

  “Why would you think he has misgivings when you have this beautiful child? Maybe he’s feeling overburdened, but he still loves you and Luke. Being a new parent is tough. You should talk this out with him, hon.” Marla hoped her own doubt didn’t show in her tone.

  “I know, but I’m so tired all the time. I don’t have the strength to confront him.”

  “When did this start?”

  Tally ran a weary hand over her face. “A few weeks ago. It’s not like him to stop talking about work, especially since he opened his new office.”

  “He doesn’t travel anymore for disaster claims. Being stuck in the same place all day might be getting to him. And now that he owns his franchise, it could be he’s feeling the weight of responsibility in that regard. Or maybe he’s simply honoring the confidentiality of his clients.” Marla chewed on her lower lip, debating if she should mention spotting Ken earlier that day. “Uh, how are his work hours these days?” she said instead.

  Tally crossed her legs and took a gulp of coffee before responding. She looked so downtrodden that Marla wanted to give her a hug of support. “He’s been working late. I phoned him just before lunch to ask him if he could pick up a few things on his way home. He said he was right in the middle of some paperwork and he’d call me back.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Around eleven. Why?”

  “Oh, you know how testy men can get when they’re hungry. You should have called him after lunch.” So Ken had lied. That was about the time when she’d seen him coming out of that café. Marla picked up her fork and tasted the cake while balancing Luke in the crook of her other arm. The cake was still warm, and she chewed thoughtfully. “Remember when you thought Ken might be having an affair, and it turned out financial worries were making him less talkative? He’d invested in that gemstone mine in North Carolina.”

  “What about it?” Tally plucked at her loose top that had baby dribble on it.

  “What ever happened with that investment? Does he still have it? Could the lode have fizzled, affecting his retirement account?”

  “Ken hasn’t talked about that mine in so long that I’d forgotten about it. Besides, I’m handling the household accounts now. I haven’t noticed anything irregular.”

  “Then don’t worry about it. But definitely tell him how you’re feeling shut out and ask what’s on his mind.” Marla made faces at Luke. He stared back at her, indifferent to her silly antics. His arms and legs were in constant motion. His little nose scrunched, and suddenly his bottom felt warm along with an unpleasant odor. “Um, I believe Luke needs changing.”

  Tally laughed at her expression. “Come on, give him to me. You can follow me into his room. Do you want a lesson in diaper changing?”

  “I used to babysit, remember? But a refresher couldn’t hurt. The products might have changed.” Marla rose to bring their near-empty mugs to the sink. Then she trailed Tally down the hall to the nursery at the other end of the house.

  A grin split her face as she entered. Soft carpet muted her steps as her glance took in the crib with its colorful overhead mobile, a changing table, and a four-drawer dresser. Disney’s Cars theme predominated, since Ken loved car shows and magazines.

  Tally placed the now-wailing infant on the changin
g table. “Watch carefully, Marla. You might have to do this someday.”

  “Ugh, maybe I should wait in the kitchen.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Tally made quick business of disposing of the soiled diaper, wiping down the baby with handy wipes, sprinkling power on his butt, and swaddling him in a new disposable diaper. “There, nothing to it.”

  “You’re a natural at this,” Marla said in admiration.

  “You could be too, Marla.” Tally gave her an indulgent smile. “Are you really so set against having children now that you and Dalton are settled?”

  “We’ve talked about this. You know how I feel.”

  “You’re a good stepmother to Brianna. You would be a wonderful mom to your own kids.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m not ready to go there.”

  Self-doubts brought an image of Tammy into her brain. Every time she saw a baby, she remembered the adorable toddler whose life had ended under her care. Although her guilt had lessened, she’d never erase the image of that child’s limp body being pulled from the pool.

  “He’s been fed, so I’ll put him down for a nap.”

  Tally’s remark drew Marla from her unpleasant trip down memory lane. A video monitor blinked green nearby as Tally lowered Luke into his crib. His howls followed them from the room.

  “Does he need to be burped?” Marla asked, unsure what else the baby needed.

  “Already done. He likes to fuss for a while before he settles down.”

  Marla hesitated by the foyer. “I should let you get some rest. I haven’t been much help.”

  “Nonsense, I’m always glad to see you. We don’t get to meet for lunch these days.”

  Another reason to avoid having children. They take over your life. “Well, I’m happy I got to see Luke. He’s growing so fast.”

  “Yes, he’ll be into the next-sized clothes before we know it.” Tally gave her a hug. “I appreciate your support, as always. Everything okay at your household?”

  “Aside from work worries, we’re fine.”

  “Oh, how is that case going? I totally forgot to ask you about the woman who died in your day spa. I’m sorry.”

  Marla waved a hand. “I won’t bother you with the details. Go and get some rest while you can. We’ll talk more another time.”

  She got a chance to discuss the case again at work on Tuesday, however. The police department’s announcement late the previous afternoon that Val’s case was now considered a homicide had people buzzing. Questions flew at Marla as staff members came to work. Next door, the spa had reopened and reporters clamored for interviews. She instructed her staff at both establishments to remain silent.

  “All we know right now is that Val died from an allergic reaction to latex,” she said in her briefing to them. “Traces of the substance have been found in her facial mask. Rosana denies any involvement and I believe her. She’d been treating Val for years and knew about her medical conditions.”

  “So you’re saying someone else put latex into the lady’s face cream?” Nicole asked.

  The other stylists hovered around her salon station. None of their clients had arrived yet, and Robyn had yet to put out their printed schedules. She was working the front desk, her head tilted so she could listen in.

  “It looks that way,” Marla replied. “Somebody also changed Val’s appointment time. It had originally been scheduled for that afternoon. And the spa’s shampoo girl hasn’t been seen since the day before, either.”

  “How come your husband is on the case? Isn’t there a conflict of interest?” Nicole persisted. As a mystery reader, she had a keen interest in his cases.

  “Yes, but they are short-staffed this season, so he stepped in as soon as he heard the address from the dispatcher. He hasn’t been reassigned yet.”

  Robyn brought around their schedules then scurried back up front as a couple of clients walked in. It broke up their cluster, as everyone scattered to their posts. Nicole glanced over while Marla plugged in her curling irons and blow dryer.

  “Isn’t latex a powder?” Nicole said, her forehead creasing into a thoughtful frown.

  Marla gave a sigh. This wouldn’t be an easy day. “I researched the stuff online. It’s available in liquid form, comes in different colors, and hardens when exposed to air. Makeup artists use it in the entertainment industry. It’s cheap and readily accessible at online stores.”

  “So anyone could buy the stuff. But how would they get it into Val’s face cream?”

  “That’s the question. Who knew she had an early-morning appointment with Rosana, where Rosana’s room was located, and even where she kept the jar of cream she used on Val? For that matter, Rosana used different types of creams depending on a client’s skin condition.”

  “So the killer would need to have access to Rosana’s records,” Nicole concluded.

  “Yes, I suppose. But it still could be anyone, like a member of the staff, a customer, or even one of the cleaning crew who comes in at night.”

  “Dalton must be checking into those possibilities.”

  “There’s one angle that’s puzzling. I mentioned that Patty, the shampoo girl next door, didn’t show up for work the day of Val’s death. When Dalton went to her apartment, it had been emptied out. There’s no trace of the woman.”

  Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “That’s suspicious. What if she’d been paid to commit sabotage and then left? Can Dalton look into her bank accounts? Maybe someone paid her off.”

  “I don’t know if he’s gotten that far in his research, but I’ll suggest it to him. He should also look into who worked late the night before and who were the last few clients. Also, maybe Val got her nails or hair done at the spa and confided her medical condition to more than one staff member. No one has come forward, but I can ask people there.”

  “Even if this is so, nobody else would know which face cream Rosana used on Val without accessing her records.”

  “Right, there is that.”

  Nicole wasn’t the only one with questions. Marla’s cell phone buzzed around eleven-thirty when she’d just finished a highlights job with a blow-out. Her next customer wasn’t until noon, so she’d gone outside in the rear to get a breath of crisp autumn air. One of the nail techs leaned against a wall there, smoking a cigarette.

  “Hello?” Marla noted the phone’s caller ID came from the day spa.

  “Hi, it’s Traci. Can you come over? A lady detective is here. She says her name is Katherine Minnetti and that you know her.”

  “Yes, she’s Dalton’s partner. I’m on it.”

  A few minutes later, she greeted the lieutenant who wore her raven hair in a flattering style and her slim form in a chocolate brown pants suit that matched her eyes. Kat didn’t bother to grant her a smile. She gave Marla an assessing glance that didn’t betray her thoughts.

  “Hello, Kat. Nice to see you again,” Marla said in a sardonic tone.

  “At another murder investigation? What happened, Marla? Were you getting bored, and so you decided to stir up trouble again?”

  Was she joking? Marla couldn’t tell from her stony expression.

  “Oh, sure. I didn’t have enough to do with the holidays approaching and all.”

  Kat waved a paper in her hand. “I have a list of staff members I’d like to interview. Is there a private room where we can talk?”

  “Me and you, or you and them?”

  Kat chuckled. “Both of the above. You can be first.”

  Gee, thanks. “Let’s see which room is available.” They entered one of the massage rooms that wasn’t being used. At Kat’s request, Marla ran down the list and described each one of the operators.

  “And you didn’t know Rosana, the aesthetician, before you hired her to work at the spa?”

  “No, but one of my regular clients recommended her. She worked at a fancy salon on the east side of town.”

  “What induced her to move here, farther away from her customers?”

  “My benefits package. It’s much
more generous than what she was getting. I don’t allow independent booth rentals at my salon. The stylists pay me a percentage of their income rather than a fixed monthly rate. This goes for our other personnel, too. In return, I stock their products, conduct continuing education classes, and foster a team spirit rather than a competitive one. Rosana was very happy to jump ship to gain group health insurance.”

  Kat took notes in a purse-sized notepad. “Did you do a background check?”

  “A basic one. I don’t get into drug testing or fingerprinting. Her clients raved about her, and that’s good enough for me. She does my eyebrows now and my lip wax.” Marla observed a faint shadow above Kat’s upper lip. The lady detective could use those services but Marla didn’t care to offend her by suggesting it.

  Kat paced back and forth, a furrow between her eyes, while Marla slid onto the massage table to sit on the edge and rest her feet. She’d worn shoes with wedge heels and wasn’t used to this pair. She straightened her skirt, glancing at her watch. How could she speed this along?

  “I hope you’re looking into Patty’s disappearance,” she said, then proceeded to present her theories and findings to date.

  Kat tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Your shampoo girl’s vanishing act could be unrelated to the case. She could have had a fight with a boyfriend and decided to cool off on her own.”

  “But then she’d have called the salon to notify us she was taking time off. You’ll be following up on her absence, won’t you?”

  “Naturally. We’ll talk to her neighbors, too, and see what they have to say.”

  “Meanwhile, you should look into those people from Friends of Old Florida. They might have been concerned Val would switch her allegiance to another organization after her sister died, and cut them out of her will. And then there’s the builder, Rick Rodriguez. Val was supposed to meet him for lunch the day she died. According to what I learned, Val had been opposing him over a proposed development project on Hollywood Beach.”

  “So I’ve heard. Were you aware Solomon Gold, the group’s president, owns some of those historic structures?”