Styled for Murder Read online

Page 8


  He gave a resigned grunt. “All right, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, honey.” She lifted on her toes and kissed him. “Lenny suggested I talk to George Eustice at the granite yard. This man had a reason to resent Jack. I thought I’d stop by there in the morning.”

  He tapped her nose. “Be careful, will you? I know you want to help Anita and Reed, but don’t get yourself in trouble. You’re a mother now. You need to stay safe.”

  Her heart twisted. She hadn’t meant to get involved in sleuthing again. “I know, but I feel bad for my mom. She should be enjoying her new life instead of dealing with this situation. That reminds me, Lenny said Jack and Reed had words one day. Either Reed was annoyed by all the delays and was venting at the foreman, or there was something else going on between them. Ma fears Reed might be more deeply involved than he’s telling her, and I’m tending to agree.”

  Dalton scowled. “If so, that won’t help his case. He had means and opportunity, and he lacks an alibi. All Wanner needs is a motive and evidence to support the case against him.”

  Marla squared her shoulders. “How does he have the means? Do you believe Reed could break someone’s neck that way? Would you know how to do it without police training, because I sure wouldn’t have a clue.”

  “That’s a good point.”

  Ryder whimpered, diverting their attention to the baby monitor. Oh, no. His eyes were wide open. Go back to sleep, Marla urged him in a silent plea. She and Dalton watched in mute suspense until his whimpers ceased and his eyelids drifted closed.

  “Whew. I’d better shower while I can,” Dalton said with a tired grin.

  “Go ahead. I still have my pumping to do.” All thoughts about her mother’s problems evaporated from her mind as she trudged after him into the bedroom, the baby’s monitor in hand.

  Ryder awoke again at one a.m. and this time he didn’t go back to sleep so quickly. Dalton got up to sit with him while Marla rolled over and drifted back to oblivion.

  It was her turn when the baby woke up for good at five-thirty. Her mind groggy, she held him in the comfy armchair in his bedroom, but his cries wouldn’t cease. She’d better get his bottle ready and then prepare for the day.

  Her blood thrummed as the early hours sped past and she performed her usual tasks. She looked forward to the challenge of talking to the granite dealer. Maybe she should get someone to go with her in case the fellow had a temper.

  She dropped Ryder off at daycare and lingered in the parking lot. She’d try her best friend, Tally. They needed to catch up with each other’s news anyway.

  “Hey, what’s up? I’m wondering if you’re free this morning to join me on an adventure,” Marla said after their preliminary greetings.

  “What did you have in mind?” Tally responded in her bubbly voice.

  Marla, who’d already filled her in on the case, mentioned the granite yard.

  “Holy smokes, that sounds like fun. I’m afraid I have to stick around this morning, though. We’ve new inventory coming in today. Any chance you can stop by the dress shop later?”

  “I’ll see what time I’m done. We need to make a real date to get together. How is Luke?”

  “He’s so active. It exhausts me running after him,” Tally replied, launching into a series of anecdotes about her son. “Anyway, I have to go. Text me when you’re available and we’ll make plans.”

  Marla rang off, picturing the toddler’s dancing blue eyes and blond hair. Tally’s son shared the same exuberance as his mom, whom she’d known since high school.

  They’d parted ways during college and met again later in South Florida. Marla had been married to Stan, a domineering attorney, when she was maid of honor at Tally’s wedding. Unhappy in her marriage, Marla had divorced Stan at Tally’s urging and attended cosmetology school.

  Tally had reinvented her life after her husband died in a tragic car accident and relocated closer to Luke’s daycare center. She owned Dressed to Kill, a dress boutique where she sold social occasion wear for special events. The store’s new bistro tempted shoppers to linger over coffee or light bites while trying on evening gowns. Marla admired her friend’s strength as a working single mother and regarded her as a role model.

  Wishing she could meet Tally for lunch as often as in the past, Marla got into her car, turned on the engine, and phoned her mother.

  “Hi, Ma. I’m checking in. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. I was wondering when you were going to call. What’s going on with the murder case?”

  Oh, you don’t care to ask how I’m doing or how is your grandson? Resentment flared but she tamped it down. Ma was in a nervous state these days. Her security was at risk and so was her marriage.

  “I spoke to Lenny Brooks at the tile store.” She related their conversation and the main points she’d gained.

  “We need to get this wrapped up,” Anita said. “Reed is becoming more withdrawn every day.”

  “Has the detective been badgering him?” Marla hadn’t mentioned the argument Lenny said he’d overheard between Reed and Jack.

  “No, but he did get a call from an old colleague at the university who said Wanner had been there to question people.”

  “That can’t be good. Why doesn’t the detective investigate Jack’s other associates? The job foreman didn’t have a reliable reputation.”

  “That’s why we need your help, bubeleh,” Anita responded. “Wanner is stuck on Reed as his prime suspect.”

  “I’m heading over to the granite yard now. I’ll let you know if I learn anything new.”

  It took her half an hour to reach the place. It was wedged between an auto collision plant and a glass repair shop in a seedier part of town east of the railroad tracks.

  A fountain in front of the entrance spit water into the air, rendering a fresh scent like a bubbling brook. It softened the impact of row after row of granite slabs on display. She peered around the open space for a salesperson and jumped in fright when a gravelly male voice sounded from behind.

  “Hello, ma’am, can I help you?”

  She spun to face a middle-aged man with a droopy mustache that matched his gray-streaked hair. He wore a Cuban shirt hanging out over baggy pants. His nose appeared irregular with a crinkled look as though he spent too much time in the sun. His tanned complexion lent credence to that theory.

  “I’m looking for George Eustice,” she replied, realizing the towering slabs of granite must have hidden his approach.

  He pointed to his chest. “That would be me.”

  “I’m a potential customer at Amaze Design Center. I wanted to talk to you about Jack Laredo.”

  “That sonovabitch? I got nothin’ nice to say about him. If that’s why you’ve come, you can leave now. I heard he’s dead, and I’m glad of it. The man got what he had coming.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I understand Jack riled lots of people,” Marla told the granite guy. “I’m not sure I want to do business with his company.”

  George glowered at her. “What does it matter now that Jack is dead?”

  “His death has shut things down, meaning projects will be delayed more than usual. If you don’t mind my asking, did your problems with Jack relate to his job?”

  George lifted a hand to shade his face from the sun. “Their firm hadn’t paid me for the last two orders. I refused to extend them anymore credit. Jack burst in here one day and chewed me out in public. Apparently, a customer had blamed him for the delay in installing their granite countertops. This client wrote a nasty note to the company president.”

  “How did Brad respond?”

  The granite dealer snorted. “Jack didn’t say, but I knew Brad wouldn’t care. He could never fire Jack. They knew too much about each other.”

  “Is that right? Like what?”

  “Things from the past,” George said, hunching his shoulders.

  His stance indicated an unwillingness to elaborate, so Marla tried a more sympat
hetic approach. “It must have been upsetting when Jack came here and railed into you. He shouldn’t have blamed you for his troubles. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t fill another order until the company’s debts were paid.”

  “You said it. I could have punched him in the face for yelling at me in front of customers.” George curled his fists for emphasis.

  Marla noted his stocky figure and muscular arms. He’d have to be strong to move those pieces of granite around. Did he also do the precision cutting to meet client’s needs? A closed door led inside. Maybe the interior housed a machine shop in addition to an office. Or perhaps that partition at the far end led to his workbench. Regardless of his role, he looked powerful enough to kill someone with his bare hands.

  “Did you contact Brad directly about your missing payments?” she asked, resisting the urge to take a step back.

  “Brad wouldn’t take my calls. He was always too busy. Or so Caroline said when she answered the phone. He’s in her pocket, after all.”

  Don’t you mean, she’s in his pants? “I noticed they were close,” Marla commented.

  He made a distasteful face. “You got that right. Caroline has her hooks into him well and good.”

  Marla rubbed the back of her neck. The sun beat down on her exposed skin with relentless intensity. Should she suggest they go inside to an air-conditioned space? Then again, she’d prefer not to be alone with this fellow who may have a murderous temper. At least outdoors, passersby could see them.

  “Lenny Brooks, the tile specialist, mentioned he hadn’t been paid recently, either. How can their company stay in business when they don’t clear their debts?”

  “Heck, I’m not surprised by anything they do,” George said with a snarl.

  A teenaged girl emerged outside, her eyes squinting against the sun. She had straight black hair that flowed down her back and wore shorts along with a shirt tied at her midriff. Her exotic looks reminded Marla of a Hawaiian dancer. Even her movements were graceful.

  “Papa, you have a phone call in the office,” she said, pressing her pink lips together.

  “I’m busy, Amelia. Take the person’s name and number. I’ll call them back.”

  The girl pointed to Marla. “Is this lady a customer? If so, I can fill her in on the different grades of granite.” Her eagerness was evident in her voice.

  “I know you can, mi cielito.” He introduced her as his daughter then gave a furtive glance at the parking lot. “Go inside. I warned you not to show yourself.”

  “That man is gone, papa. He can’t bother me anymore. Now I can help you at work.”

  George growled. “Most of our customers aren’t as nice as this lady. Do as you’re told and stay out of sight.” He turned back to Marla with a false smile. “Today is a teacher workday so she has the day off from school. My wife works, and I don’t want Amelia home alone.”

  Marla couldn’t let those remarks pass. “Is someone harassing her? If so, I can understand why you’d want to keep your daughter close.” Adjusting her sunglasses, Marla moved into a shady patch where the temperature was more tolerable.

  “It was Jack Laredo,” the granite yard owner said, nearly spitting his name. “He’d noticed mi hija working here during winter break and showed up with excuses, but I saw the way he looked at her.”

  “Oh, no. What did you do about it?” Marla kept an interested expression on her face, but her heart leapt with excitement. This guy might be a viable suspect in Jack’s murder for personal reasons that had nothing to do with Amaze Designs.

  George’s eyes narrowed. “I did nothing at first. I’d hoped he would lose interest. But somehow, the devil learned that Amelia had entered the garlic queen competition at the spring festival. The prize is a college scholarship.”

  “No kidding? I’m attending the festival this year. I’m a salon owner, and my stylists have been hired to do the girls’ hair. How awesome that your daughter is one of the contestants.” Marla handed over her business card.

  “It’s a small world, yes?” George took the card and pocketed it.

  “That’s true. We got the name of Amaze Design Center from my mother, Anita Shorstein. It’s her house where Jack’s body was found. Have the cops been by to talk to you about his death?”

  He jabbed a finger at her. “Not yet, and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want my name associated with that snake.”

  “You’re aware he was murdered?”

  “Si, so I heard.”

  “My stepfather’s tie was wrapped around his neck, and we’re trying to understand what that means. Reed Westmore is my mother’s husband. Would you know anything about Reed’s relationship to Jack?”

  “Never heard of him.”

  His response appeared to be genuine. “You said Jack had learned your daughter entered the garlic festival pageant?”

  George’s complexion darkened. “Jack waited one day until I was in my office and then he drew Amelia aside. He offered to sway the judge’s vote in her favor if she let him touch her. She ran away and told me what happened. I wanted to smash Jack’s face right then and there, but he’d already left the premises.”

  “Did you go after him?” She could understand his rage. If a pervert ever approached Brianna, she’d want to take drastic action against him.

  “No. I figured things would work out on their own,” George admitted with a sardonic smile. “He and Brad were a team. I knew Brad’s history. It was only a matter of time before he shut down the company and moved on. Jack would have gone with him, and then he’d be out of our hair for good.”

  Marla shifted feet, yearning to get out of the heat. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  George’s hulking presence blocked the sun as he stepped forward. “I don’t suppose you’re aware that the garlic festival judge whom Jack mentioned was Brad’s sister? Davinia Quincy is a former winner. She’s made quite a name for herself as an actress since her early days.”

  Lord save me. Davinia is a judge in the pageant? And she’s Brad’s sister? Wheels spun in Marla’s mind. Davinia was the celebrity who’d given Brad’s company her endorsement. Once again, Marla wondered about the connection between Reed and this woman. Despite his claims, he couldn’t have been swayed by one testimonial, no matter how famous the client.

  “What does Brad’s sister have to do with him moving on?” she asked, confused by George’s statements.

  The granite dealer spread his hands. “It’s his pattern. Davinia knows it, too. She’s been smart in disassociating herself from her liar of a brother.”

  Marla meant to ask him to explain further but a truck drove up in a cloud of dust and a couple of husky workmen lumbered out. They waved to George.

  “We’re done talking, señora. And don’t think I’m not onto you. You came here to pick my brain. I hope you got what you wanted and will leave us alone.”

  She had no choice except to go, but there had been one good thing to come out of this conversation. She’d be seeing Amelia again at the garlic festival and possibly her dad, too. George Eustice, as an enraged father, made a valid suspect in Jack’s murder. He could easily have lied about not taking direct action against Jack.

  Once in her car, she drove off to work, eager to share her news. Before heading into the salon, she remained in the vehicle with its engine on and updated both her mother and Dalton with the results of her visit.

  Nicole asked about the case after Marla had applied color to her first client’s roots and set the timer. Dressed in a flattering maxi-dress, Nicole put down the comb in her hand.

  “You have that look on your face,” she told Marla from the next station. “You’ve learned something new about Jack’s death, haven’t you?”

  “I believe so.” She filled Nicole in on the most recent events.

  Nicole nodded, her glossy black ponytail swinging. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Lenny Brooks, the tile guy, claimed he hadn’t been paid for the last two pay periods and the tile place was owed
for a couple of orders as well. Ditto for the granite dealer.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “How does this give Lenny a motive to kill the foreman?”

  “Jack handed out the paychecks. Maybe he pocketed the money himself and Lenny suspected as much.”

  “So how would killing him solve things? George seems a more viable suspect. He had personal reasons to do away with Jack.”

  “I agree. But something is still fishy at the design center. Caroline had mentioned Brad playing with numbers.”

  Nicole’s eyes rounded. “As in, using a bookie to place bets on the horse races or falsifying their business accounts?”

  “I would assume it’s the latter. George called Brad a liar and seemed to believe he’d close the firm and move on. I don’t get that part, but he also mentioned Davinia’s name. The actress is Brad’s sister. She’s a judge in the upcoming garlic queen festival.”

  “No way? This case gets stranger and stranger.”

  “It does, especially since George’s teenage daughter is a contender in the pageant. Jack offered to sway the judge in her favor if the girl let him touch her.”

  “Eww. That’s reason enough to give George a motive for murder,” Nicole said with a grimace. “Hey, wait. Aren’t we doing the hair of these beauty queen contestants?”

  “Yes, and that may give me a chance to talk to the girl away from her father. George claimed he did nothing to lift a finger against Jack after his lewd offer, but that seems unlikely. He’s still angry, even though Jack is dead.”

  Nicole waved to her next client who’d walked through the door. She put their conversation on hold and strode over to greet the woman.

  After her client headed to the shampoo chair, Nicole returned to her station. “What does Detective Wanner say about all this?” she asked Marla.

  Marla straightened the supplies on her roundabout. “He hasn’t spoken to George. I hope he’s interviewing everyone associated with Jack and just hasn’t gotten to the granite guy yet.”