Permed To Death [Bad Hair Day Mystery 1] Read online

To her relief, Jess let it go at that and departed just as her next customer showed up. Kept busy for the next couple of hours, Marla fielded questions and comments with a finesse she hadn't known she possessed. Her cool reserve wavered when Detective Vail marched through the door, but she told herself his visit was just routine. At least he didn't flaunt his status as a police officer. His navy sportcoat and red-and-blue-striped tie could have belonged to any businessman. Her glance swept his peppery hair brushed back from a wide forehead then settled on his craggy face.

  "Good afternoon, Detective Vail,” she said evenly as he approached. “What can I do for you?"

  ''I have a few more questions to ask, if you don’ t mind.” He smiled in a manner that reminded her of a wolf about to devour its prey.

  "Fire away.” She looked him directly in the eye, showing him she wasn't fooled by his supposedly friendly demeanor.

  "Where did you go after I dropped you off here on Thursday?"

  "I kibitzed with Arnie in the bagel shop, then I went home."

  "Directly home?"

  Oh God, was I spotted cruising by Mrs. Kravitz's house? Or worse, prowling around the grounds? Thinking fast, she delivered a glib reply. “Actually, I went for a drive. I was nervous and upset. I didn't want to go home right away."

  "A car like yours was seen in Bertha Kravitz's neighborhood."

  So it was possible she hadn ‘t been personally identified. “I drove by her house. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the old lady, and I'd remembered where she lived. I went to her home once to do her hair before a party,” she lied.

  "Umm.” Vail didn't look convinced.’ ‘I'll just meander around and talk to your employees. Don't let me keep you from your work."

  "Sure,” she gritted.

  The next hour crawled by as she felt his eyes on her constantly. When would the man leave? His presence distracted her so she couldn't think straight. Glancing at him when his attention was diverted, she felt struck by the aura of power that accompanied him. Even her staff responded deferentially when he addressed them. Arrogance showed in the firm thrust of his jaw and the wide set of his shoulders. But even more imposing was that observant, piercing gaze that he tried to hide behind an amiable exterior. Clearly he presented a challenge, Marla decided, intrigued despite her sense of caution.

  When she was between customers again, he strolled toward her. “How well do you screen your employees?” he asked in a low tone so no one else could overhear. His deep voice had a smoky quality she hadn't noticed before, and her cheeks warmed in response. Disconcerted by her reaction, she brushed a strand of hair off her face.

  "I interview prospective staff members and verify licenses, but turnover is high in this business."

  "You don't do a background check of any sort?"

  ''That would be a waste of effort. As long as my people show up on time, are personable, and do their jobs, why ask for more? Finding good workers is difficult enough without being overly selective."

  "Darlene's home address doesn't check out Either she's given you false information, or your records are inaccurate."

  "Really? Darlene, can you come here for a minute, please?” When the stylist approached, Marla said: “Detective Vail claims your home address isn't valid. I'm sure you have a reasonable explanation."

  Darlene's jaw worked a piece of gum as she met Vail's gaze defiantly, “like I moved in with a friend and forgot to tell Marla. It's no big deal."

  "What friend?” Vail demanded.

  "You need his address? So I'll write it down for you."

  She hastened to the front desk, where Lucille, who'd been watching, gave her a blank piece of paper. Darlene scribbled the information, then handed it to the detective.

  "Is there anything else?” Marla asked Vail, a smug smile on her face.

  "Yes, one more thing,” he said, his sly look making her feel like an animal caught in a trap. “Over the weekend, I checked through your computer files which, if you recall, you gave me permission to do."

  "That's right"

  "I'm wondering why you didn't charge Mrs. Kravitz a dime in the eight years she'd been coming to the salon. The deceased never paid a cent for a single appointment Can you explain, Miss Shore?"

  "I owed Bertha some money,” Marla said, her heart racing. “Instead of payments, she wanted free hair appointments."

  "For eight years?” he scoffed.

  "She gave me a loan to pay for beauty school. My parents didn't approve of my career choice, so I was forced to secure my own funding.” Hopefully he'd believe her story.

  "You said you'd met the deceased at a charitable event."

  Marla lifted her chin. “That's right I was a volunteer at a fund-raiser she chaired and was introduced to her. I made a gauche comment about her hair and how much better she'd look with a different style. She wanted to see if I could deliver what I promised. The rest is history."

  "Was this loan money deposited in a bank?"

  "She paid my tuition directly."

  "How much of the loan remains unpaid?"

  She shifted her feet “The salon has done well, and I reimbursed her in full with interest I've been doing her hair these last few years as a favor, feeling I owe her a debt of gratitude.” Afraid he'd ask to see her canceled checks, she groped for a change of subject “By the way, did you ever get hold of Carlos?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

  "His boat is missing, and he hasn't shown up for work,” Vail said in a gruff tone.

  "I hope nothing has happened to him. He'll confirm that he left the back door unlocked. Did you find anyone's prints on the doorknob that don't belong there?"

  Vail's mouth lifted at the corners. “Maybe."

  Obviously he wasn't going to confide in her. Well, forget telling him what she'd learned so far by talking to Bertha's relatives. “There's Elanna!” she exclaimed, spotting her next customer walking in. “You'll have to excuse me. I need to get back to work."

  "One more thing.” His glance dropped, his heavy-lidded eyes making a lazy perusal of her body that brought a flush to her cheeks. “Maybe we can have coffee together later this week."

  Marla's jaw dropped. Was he serious? Or was this a line to throw her off guard, perhaps a new way of cross-examining murder suspects by pretending a personal interest in them? “W-why, ask me later, Lieutenant,” she stuttered.

  "Dalton. My name is Dalton."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 5

  Detective Vail makes me uneasy,” Marla said. Huddled in a booth at the Mason Jar, a local steak restaurant, she dug into her house salad and conversation with equal fervor. Tally sat across from her, an expression of rapt interest on her face. Marla had filled her in on events since the weekend.

  "I don't understand,” Tally said, her perceptive blue eyes noting Marla's troubled expression.

  "Vail ... Dalton ... makes me feel guilty,” she explained, his given name sounding awkward. She preferred his formal title while the case remained unsolved. To hide her discomfort, she took a bite of mixed greens dribbled with raspberry vinaigrette.

  Despite being vigilant about her diet, Tally indulged in a Caesar salad. She looked great in a leopard silk blouse and flowing raven trousers, while on Marla the outfit would swim. Broad-shouldered with wavy blond hair, Tally displayed her tall stature with a flamboyant flair. Marla preferred her own denim skirt and sky-blue sweater, but then she was a conservative dresser. Luckily, she didn't gain weight as easily as Tally.

  "Sounds to me like you're attracted to the man.” Tally's eyes twinkled playfully.

  "How can I like someone who suspects me of being a murderess?"

  "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."