Styled for Murder Page 6

  “Jack rarely mentioned him, but why do you care?” Brad drummed his fingers on the desktop as though impatient for her to leave. Had he been able to hear any part of her dialogue with Nadia through the walls?

  “I like to know the people I’m working with when I have work done at my house. You can’t be too careful these days, right? I thought I’d heard Jack had a girlfriend. Maybe she’ll help his son make arrangements.”

  “I doubt it. Hannah and Jack broke up fairly recently.” Brad’s brown eyes bored into hers. “Are you here to discuss Jack or to talk about your project? Because we’ll be filling his position with someone new. You won’t have to deal with him.”

  Marla met his gaze. “As I understand it, that’s a good thing.”

  Brad’s fingers stilled as he regarded her with an icy expression. “Who referred you to our firm, Mrs. Vail?”

  “That would be my mother, Anita Shorstein. She’s married to Reed Westmore, my stepfather. It’s their house where Jack’s body was found.”

  The president’s face reddened, and he pressed his hands to the desktop as though to rise. “Is that why you’re here? To ask the same questions as the cops?”

  “I want the case solved so my mother can find peace. I’ll do what’s necessary to expedite things in her favor.”

  Brad rose slowly to his feet, his steely gaze capturing hers. “If I were you, I’d be very careful about what you say and to whom. Otherwise, you might stir up more than dust in your wake.”

  Chapter Six

  Once out the door, Marla phoned her mother. “I just left the design center, Ma. I’ve met Nadia and Brad. Along with Caroline, they’re the only ones who staff the office. It seems everyone had a contentious relationship with Jack. I’d like to talk to the tile guy, Lenny Brooks. Do you know where I can find him?”

  Detective Wanner should be done interviewing the top persons of interest by now, Marla decided, so she wouldn’t be interfering if she had a chat with the man. He might be able to shed light on the office staff’s relationships to the victim.

  “I have his phone number since he’s texted me a few times,” Anita offered. “You’re not going to do anything foolish such as inviting him to your house to look at your tile, are you? Because you have to be careful with these people. A man is dead, don’t forget.”

  “I know.” Marla adjusted her earpiece as she walked to her car. A lawn mower droned in the distance, an ever-present sound in South Florida. “It’s possible Jack was killed for a reason that had nothing to do with his work,” she reminded her mother. “Wanner must have spoken to his family and friends. Or at least, to his former girlfriend. It’ll be interesting to see who turns up at his funeral.”

  “I’m texting you Lenny’s number,” Anita said.

  “Thanks, I got it. Michael and I are meeting for lunch today. How is Reed doing?”

  “He spends a lot of time in his home office. Something is eating at him. I can tell.”

  “Hang in there. Even if he had a reason to dislike Jack, he didn’t kill the man.”

  “Do you know that for a certainty?” Her mother sighed. “I wish he’d open up to me. Same goes for your brother. I’m glad you’re meeting him today. I hope Michael is more forthcoming about what’s troubling him.”

  “We’ll see. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up, inwardly railing at men who didn’t express their concerns.

  Dalton could be that way, too, going silent when something bothered him. That reminded her that she’d meant to ask him about the police picnic on Memorial Day weekend. He hadn’t said a word about it, and they usually attended. Wasn’t that the same weekend as Nicole and Kevin’s barbecue? Maybe she’d mixed up the dates.

  She focused on driving as she headed north on Florida’s turnpike toward Boca Raton. Michael was meeting her for lunch at Maggiano’s, a favorite Italian restaurant by the mall. When the Glades Road exit came up, she took the ramp and headed east.

  Her brother had already snagged a booth in the elegant dining room by the time she arrived. He stood to greet her with a quick embrace. He’d come from work and wore a dress shirt with belted trousers. His dark hair, now threaded with gray, was combed back from his forehead.

  Marla slid into the leathery seat across from him, noting her water glass was already filled. The aroma of garlic and roasted tomato made her mouth water as a waiter strode past carrying a couple of platters.

  She took the folded paper napkin from the red and white checkered tablecloth and spread it on her lap. “How are the kids?” she asked as a preamble to their chat.

  “They’re good. Here, I’ll show you our latest photos.”

  Marla peered at his phone. It was incredible how fast they were growing. Rebecca, six years old, looked so cute with her pigtails and missing front teeth. Jacob, an active ten-year-old, was turning into a handsome young man. Marla couldn’t imagine Ryder at his age. Would he be into rocks like her nephew? Jacob had enjoyed the crystal growing kit she’d given him at his last birthday.

  “They’re so cute,” she told their proud father with a surge of affection.

  “Jacob can’t wait for summer science camp and Rebecca is excited about her dance recital.” Michael rambled on about his children until the waiter took their orders. “Oh God, Marla. I don’t know what to do,” he said once they were left alone again.

  Alarm made her pulse race. “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s no beating around the bush. Charlene wants to move back north. I haven’t told Ma yet because I know she’ll be upset.”

  “Wait, Charlene wants to leave you?” Marla asked, her mouth dropping open.

  “You know how she’s always wanted to become a school principal? It’s not happening for her in Florida. She cares more about fulfilling her goal than being with her family.”

  “So she plans to uproot herself and move out of state?”

  He bowed his head. “That’s right. I don’t understand why this is happening. Is it some sort of midlife crisis? I’ve tried to make her happy, but no matter what I do, it’s not working.”

  Marla reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry to hear this. Why can’t she look for a position elsewhere in Florida? There must be something available.”

  Her brother shrugged. “I think it’s just an excuse. She’s become more distant lately, as though she’s already detaching herself. I don’t want to lose the children, sis.”

  “Is she considering a divorce?” Marla asked, aghast at the possibility.

  He gazed at her, a lost expression in his eyes. “No, but she mentioned a trial separation. I can’t understand why she is being so selfish. Whatever she does will hurt our kids.”

  Marla heard the pain in his voice, and her heart went out to him. Charlene had always been a sweet and caring wife, but she was also driven by her career. Normally, Marla would encourage a woman to follow her dreams, but not when it meant abandoning her loved ones.

  “Does she mean to take the children with her?” she asked, unable to fathom a mother leaving her little ones behind.

  “If so, she’ll have a fight on her hands.” Michael gripped his water glass so tight his knuckles went white.

  “Maybe you should see a lawyer.”

  “Not yet. I’m hoping it won’t come to that if I can convince her to stay.”

  Marla grimaced. “It’s possible she needs to get this out of her system. Or is there more going on here than you’re telling me? Have you two grown apart?”

  Guilt assailed her as she contemplated her own neglect of her extended family. When was the last time she’d called her cousin, Cynthia? She could only do so much with the little spare time she had. Between the salon and her son, she had to stretch things to even help Ma with her problems.

  Her brother shook his head, unwilling or unable to answer. This must be so difficult for him. He’d had his roadblocks in life, but he had overcome them. Marla had assumed he had the perfect life with a lucrative job in Boca
Raton, an upscale house, and a beautiful family with two children. All they needed in her estimation was a pet.

  Her lips twisted in a wry smile. Nothing was ever as it seemed on the surface.

  What could she do to help? She didn’t really want to call Charlene. Then she’d get caught in the middle... again. She didn’t have the energy to take on another issue.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. This is something you have to work out for yourself, but I’ll support you no matter what happens.”

  “Thanks. It helps to talk about it.” He sat back as the waiter delivered their meals. He’d ordered the Chicken Marsala while Marla got her favorite Eggplant Parmigiana.

  She chewed and swallowed a piece of crusty bread and butter before digging into the steaming entrée. The combined flavors of tender eggplant and tangy tomato sauce mixed in her mouth. For a while, they ate in silence. Marla felt at a loss for words.

  “What’s going on with Ma’s renovations?” Michael asked, his brows lifting.

  Marla’s mood rallied to the familiar topic. “It’s come to a halt until the scene is cleared by the police. How much do you know?”

  “They found the project manager dead in the shower and the cops suspect Reed.”

  “They’re looking in the wrong direction. Reed wouldn’t hurt anyone, although Ma thinks he might have had a past connection to Jack Laredo. But other suspects are more viable.”

  “Such as?” He stuck a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth while regarding her with mild curiosity.

  “Caroline, the administrative assistant, approves the subcontractors and assigns them to each project. Nadia, their architect, does an initial assessment in people’s homes and helps them with their choices in the showroom. Then there’s Brad, the company president. I got the impression Caroline might be having an affair with him. It’s possible she’s also taking kickbacks from their contractors.”

  “What does this have to do with the dead guy?”

  “Maybe he found out about Caroline’s shenanigans. Here’s something else. Caroline mentioned that Brad likes to play with the numbers. Could that mean he practices creative bookkeeping?”

  “It’s a possibility. Is Dalton looking into the company’s finances?”

  “It’s not his case, but I’ll mention it to him. Nadia isn’t fully in the clear, either. Caroline heard her arguing with Jack, and vice versa. Clients complained about his poor communication skills. The office staff would get angry calls from customers about unexpected delays. That couldn’t have pleased any of them.”

  “How did this fellow keep his job if clients had complaints?”

  “That’s a good question. Nadia said Brad had his own reasons for keeping Jack on.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “She didn’t elaborate. It would help to learn more about Jack’s background. All I know is he had a former girlfriend, and he has a son who lives out of state.”

  “Will there be a memorial service?”

  Marla’s brother knew she often attended funerals when sleuthing to see who would show up. “His body hasn’t been released yet. It’s been confirmed he died of a broken neck. The killer had wrapped one of Reed’s neckties around his throat.”

  Michael winced. “Yeah, Ma told me about that. Did the killer want it to appear as though Jack had been strangled?”

  Marla put down her fork. “That’s what I thought at first. But now, it appears more likely the killer meant to cast blame on Reed.”

  “Who would do that and why?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. Detective Wanner seems to believe Jack was killed out on the lawn and his body moved inside. Initially, it looked as though Jack had been murdered in the bathroom and Reed had used one of his ties to do the job. Why bother moving the body if not to implicate Reed?”

  “What does Dalton say?”

  “I’ve asked him to look more closely into Reed’s background to see if he has a hidden agenda with this company. I hate going behind our stepfather’s back, but Reed was the one who chose their firm even though they had lower bids.”

  “What’s your next move? I know you won’t let this go,” Michael said, taking a sip of water.

  “I’d like to talk to the tile guy. Lenny discovered the body. Ma gave me his phone number.”

  “You’re not planning to meet him alone, I hope.”

  “No, I’ll scope out where he works. I’ll go there and say I need his advice on selecting the tile for my bathroom floor.”

  “Be careful, will you? I don’t like the idea of you chasing after bad guys. You have Ryder to think about now.” His face brightened. “How is my nephew, by the way? Is he doing anything new since I last saw him?”

  Marla showed him some recent photos on her phone. She described Ryder’s progress and her concerns about his sleep regressions. Speaking of sleep, her full stomach made her crave a nap. That was a luxury she couldn’t afford, however. Too much to do and too little time.

  She picked up the tab since she’d invited her brother to lunch, and they parted ways. Marla made him promise to keep her informed about Charlene. Her heart ached for him. She wished she could offer him better advice. Ma would be upset to learn about his concerns.

  Marla gave her mother a quick call before she left the parking lot, saying her brother looked well and she’d share more details about their conversation later. She meant to go home and contact the tile man. Meanwhile, she had a list of errands to do along the way.

  An hour and a half later, she walked through the garage entrance into the kitchen. She deactivated the alarm, plopped her purse on the counter, and greeted the dogs, who bounded at her for attention. She petted her furry friends and let them outside to the fenced backyard.

  After putting away the groceries she’d bought, she settled at the computer. She’d thought about doing an online search for Lenny’s name. That might be easier than giving him a cold call.

  Sure enough, he was listed as an installer at Canyon Tile, a local business. Customers praised his work in their reviews.

  Fantastic. Now she knew where to find him.

  As long as she had the time, she did a search on review sites for the design company. People’s comments were wildly mixed, some rife with complaints and others raving about the job done. Despite the problems along the way, most people seemed happy with the outcome. Their average rating was three-point-eight. It wasn’t a company she would have chosen with so much competition in the area.

  Her gaze flitted to the testimonial on their main page. Davinia Quincy, the daytime soap actress, highly praised the company. Marla admired her photos of a bright kitchen with modern lighting, a broad center island, industrial stainless-steel appliances, and wide granite countertops. She’d love to have a dream kitchen like that one, although she was happy enough with her own housing choices.

  Was this woman’s quote the celebrity endorsement that had influenced Reed to choose this company? How would he have heard about her? Surely, he didn’t watch daytime TV.

  According to a biography on the actress, she lived in West Palm Beach. It was possible they’d encountered each other at a local venue. Otherwise, why would her review have had such sway over him?

  He had taught classic literature at the university. Maybe she’d performed at a Shakespeare festival or the like. There had to be a reason why he’d been impressed by her recommendation.

  Further research showed that Davinia had gotten interested in acting as far back as high school, but it wasn’t until she was crowned queen at the garlic festival that her career had taken off. A long list of TV and film credits followed.

  Marla’s brows lifted. That was interesting. Was this the same garlic festival she’d be attending?

  Unfortunately, the woman’s phone number was unlisted. Nor could she find any means to reach her despite calling the woman’s casting agency and manager’s office. They protected their client’s privacy and railroaded Marla’s inquiries.

  Tabling that issue for now, s
he sent a text message to the tile man saying she’d been recommended to him as an independent installer. She wanted to redo her bathroom and was he available to work with her?

  It took a couple of hours and several chores later before she received a response. “Have you selected your tile?” Lenny Brooks asked in his reply.

  “Not yet. I was hoping for your guidance. I’m not sure what to get. It has to be non-slip for the bathroom. Could we meet at your showroom so you can show me the options?”

  “I do installs for Canyon Tile,” he wrote back. “They can help you choose the tile that’s best for your needs. They’ll even send someone out to measure. After your order comes in, that’s when they schedule me for the installation.”

  “All right, I’ll stop by their place. Thanks for your help.” She signed off, weariness making her shoulders droop. In order to meet Lenny in person, she’d have to contact the tile place and ask when he was due in next.

  She placed a call to Canyon Tile. When a female voice answered, Marla asked when Lenny Brooks might be in because she needed to consult him regarding a measurement. He’d forgotten to give her a business card when they’d met.

  Fortune smiled upon her. The friendly receptionist said Lenny was scheduled to pick up a delivery order for an install on Wednesday. She’d text Marla his ETA later so she could stop by.

  Excited by the prospect, she called Dalton and filled him in on her progress. She also told him the news about Michael.

  “I’m sorry your brother is having to deal with this,” he said, his deep voice comforting her. “Does your mom know?”

  “I told her I’d call her back with the results of our conversation. I hate to worry her about it when she has so much on her mind.”

  “She already knows something is wrong since she asked you to intervene. I don’t blame your brother for being distraught. His wife values becoming a school principal over their family. She should be willing to accept a compromise.”

  “I agree.” Marla spoke hands-free through her earpiece while she put away the dishes from breakfast. “Charlene has never been thrilled about living in Florida. She hates the summers and the threat of hurricanes.”