Died Blonde (15 page)

“That won’t happen. You’re meant for each other. Opposites attract, don’t you know?”

Marla heard a click on the receiver. “I’ve got to go; I’m getting another call. Look, if you get a night off this week, contact me. Rosemary Taylor knew about Carolyn’s collectibles, plus she had a key to Carolyn’s place. I’d like to ask her if she ever ran into our landlord there.”

Pushing the FLASH button, Marla answered her other call. Speak of the devil, Rosemary’s voice squeaked from the other end of the line.

“Marla Shore? It’s Rosemary Taylor, Carolyn Sutton’s friend. Remember? You met me at the bingo parlor? You said I should call you if I remembered anything important. Well, I did.”

“Go on,” Marla said, gripping the handset tightly.

“I recognized that person who’s watching me. I saw him leaving Carolyn’s apartment once. She’d mentioned they had a hobby in common, and she wanted to show off her collection.”

“Her antique jewelry?”

“That’s right.” Rosemary’s voice crackled with urgency. “He must be working for them. I told you they were on to me. Then I saw that article in the newspaper, and it got me to thinking. What if she was one of us? I mean, hired to snoop them out like I was? They did away with her, and now I’m next.”

“Whoa, Rosemary, you’ve lost me.”

“You read about that girl who was killed?”

“I thought you were investigating the tribe,” Marla answered. Rosemary’s ramblings were confusing her more than ever.

“Yes, but don’t you see? This thing is about to break wide open, and I’m in the middle of it. He knows what Carolyn told me. Hair today, gone tomorrow. Get it?” Her delusional cackle raised goose bumps on Marla’s flesh.

“You’re not making sense,” she said in a soothing tone. “What did Carolyn tell you?”

“She used cash from her salon to play bingo, then she took her winnings and bought herself baubles,” Rosemary said, sucking in a raspy breath. “Foolish twit. Why didn’t that voodoo lady warn her against buying stuff belonging to dead people?”

“Did Wilda know about her antique jewelry?”

“No, just me and…one other.”

“Carolyn’s boyfriend?”

“Carolyn used men; she didn’t date them. She should have known about him, though. I’m surprised that psychic didn’t foresee what was coming. Maybe Wilda works for them. I can smell a phony a mile away, and I’ll tell you that woman never told Carolyn anything she didn’t already know for herself.”

Marla gritted her teeth in frustration. This conversation was dancing in circles, hinting at important data but never quite exposing it. How could she get Rosemary to focus her thought processes? “Who were Carolyn’s so-called male friends?” she tried, aware of the edge of desperation creeping into her voice.

“You already know some of them. That’s why I called. If he’s onto me, you may be in danger, too. He’s seen us together.”

“Can you give me a name?”

“The details aren’t important. You have to—what’s that noise?” Her tone sharpened. “There’s nobody in the next room, but I hear…Hello?”

“Rosemary, wait.” Marla’s heart thudded in her chest when she heard the clunk of the receiver, a few seconds of silence, then a distant cry.

Listening intently, she caught a faint rhythm of breathing at the other end. Her blood chilled when she realized someone had lifted the telephone. Then a click came, followed by the dial tone.

With trembling fingers, Marla pushed the FLASH button and punched the code for Vail’s cell phone. His deep, masculine tone responded, reassuring her.

“Do you know where Rosemary Taylor lives? She’s Carolyn’s bingo partner,” Marla reminded him. “I think she’s in trouble.” Quickly, she repeated the gist of their conversation.

“Stay home and lock your doors. I’ll send a patrol car to Taylor’s place.”

“Call me,” she requested before cutting their connection.

Several hours passed while she waited for Vail to get back to her. After tidying her house, she reheated leftovers for dinner but ended up gnawing on her fingernails and sipping coffee. A soft knock on her door around eight o’clock brought her flying to the foyer along with Spooks who barked excitedly.

“It’s me,” Vail said unnecessarily when she spied him through the peephole.

Turning off her alarm, she opened the door. His grim expression floored her.

“Rosemary?” she croaked.

Stepping inside, he nodded. “You were right, she was in trouble. Someone got to her before we did.”

Marla’s hand flew to her mouth. “Omigod.”

“I need you to repeat everything she said in her telephone conversation to you.”

Her feet frozen to the ground, Marla stared at him. “She knew someone was coming for her. I should have called you right away. Instead, I-I tried to get more information from her.”

“Why do you always think everything is your fault?” Vail’s strong hands clasped her shoulders. “Get a grip, Marla. I need your help.”

His haggard face told her how tired he must be. “Yes, of course. Have you eaten dinner? Oh dear, Brianna is home alone again, isn’t she? I’m sorry, it’s thoughtless of me. I should have gone over there.”

“You do enough already; Brie is safe. It’s you who worries me.” Trailing her into the kitchen, he sank into a chair at the table. “I’m starved,” he admitted, scraping stiff fingers through his hair.

Marla prepared a plate of leftover brisket with macaroni and cheese and heated it in the microwave, handing the dish to him along with a bowl of prepackaged salad.

Working in the kitchen made her feel better. She didn’t want to learn the details of what he’d found at Rosemary’s place. That was the stuff of nightmares. In her mind, the dead woman’s words flashed like a cattle brand:
If he’s on to me, you may be in danger, too
.

Marla found it difficult to focus on work Tuesday morning; her thoughts kept returning to events from the night before. A sense of urgency swelled within her. As though she’d acquired Wilda’s psychic powers, she sensed bad vibes in her future.

“There must be a correlation between the killer’s behavior and Carolyn’s hair jewelry,” she said to Nicole during a break. “Rosemary said she saw a man leaving Carolyn’s apartment who shared an interest in the same hobby. Maybe he makes jewelry out of the hair he collects from his victims. Serial killers often take souvenirs.” Was that what they were dealing with here? She’d assumed Carolyn had been murdered by someone with a personal vendetta, but maybe this wasn’t the case.

“At least you know the killer is male,” Nicole replied, sipping a Diet Coke at the next station. “That eliminates Wilda and Carolyn’s sister. Have you asked Claudia about the immigration attorney and that other man, Atlas Boyd? You said he knew about Wilda’s prediction.”

“I’ll stop by Hairstyle Heaven today to see what else turns up. I still want to find out why Mr. Thomson frequented Carolyn’s salon, but he won’t be back in his office until tomorrow. His wife said he takes a lot of business trips.”

“So?”

“Maybe he does more than survey land deals on his jaunts.”

Nicole gave her a doe-eyed look. “Speaking of trips, I thought you meant to go to Cassadaga.”

“I haven’t had time. Sunday, Ma came over to Dalton’s house for a barbecue. We invited Sam, but now I’m not so certain that was a good idea. I really don’t know much about him, even though he seems all right.”

“Surely you’re not suspecting that nice old man from the hardware store?”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Nicole folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, come on. What about that chiropractor? If anyone would know how to snap a neck, he’d be the one. Did you find out what Carolyn had on the guy?”

“Not yet. I have to make another appointment.” She paused. “Someone left a warning letter at my doorstep. My inquiries are stirring up trouble, but I can’t decide where to look first.”

Nicole fixed her with a level stare. “Carolyn’s salon must hold her secrets. If anyone can search behind the scene, you’re the one.”

As soon as Marla had a respite in her schedule, she hustled over to Hairstyle Heaven. Fortunately, Wilda manned the front desk. Marla winced at the sight of her. The psychic’s outfit would be great for a seance, but it didn’t seem appropriate for a salon. Her flowing caftan, with silver stars and moons sprinkled against a navy background, matched the turban on her head. Silver drop earrings clinked at her ears.

Wilda’s face brightened at Marla’s entrance. “I knew you’d come in today. Carolyn indicated that you’re doing well. You’re getting closer to her murderer.”

Marla stopped by the waist-high counter. “Oh? What else did she tell you?”

“Your attention is needed urgently. Danger is in the air.” Wilda’s gaze flickered to the staff.

Marla struggled to interpret her words. Did she mean danger threatened her here? Scanning the operators, Marla noted Claudia’s absence. “Where is Claudia? I hoped to ask her how things were going.”

“She’ll be back tomorrow. She’s taken a few days off.”

A thought struck Marla, but it seemed too coincidental. “Dennis Thomson is out of his office until tomorrow. I wanted to see if Claudia knew why he visited the salon so often. Now I’m wondering if he came to see Carolyn at all.”

Wilda gave her a sly smile that lent her wrinkled face the expression of a fox tracking prey. “Interesting observation.” Closing her eyes, Wilda appeared to ignore the whirring blow-dryers, chatter of customers, and radio music as she swayed slowly back and forth. A red-haired woman breezed through the door, stopped by the front desk, and tapped her foot impatiently. “Excuse me?” the lady said, scraping her acrylic nails along the countertop.

Wilda didn’t budge, so Marla interceded. “I believe she’s communicating with those who have gone beyond. May I help you?”

A pair of gray eyes surveyed Marla with disdain. “I have an appointment with Jeanine. And you are?”

“Marla Shore from Cut ‘N Dye salon down the strip. I’ll tell Jeanine you’re here.”
Great way to run a business, Wilda. Tune out to talk to the dead when you have a live customer in front of you. You ‘II increase your customer base if you offer readings at the same time as a blowout
.

“Jeanine, your three o’clock is waiting up front. Should I tell her to get shampooed?” Marla queried the ebony-haired stylist who hung out the open rear door smoking a cigarette.

“
Out, merci
.” Jeanine dropped her stub to the ground and stamped it out. “This person who is in charge, she is not altogether with us, if you know what I mean.” Her accented voice lowered. “Monsieur Boyd has made her an offer. We are hoping she accepts. It would secure our place here.”

Marla stepped partially outside. “What kind of offer?”

“To buy the business. It is not the way his plan was supposed to work, but he says this will be better.”

“I see.” What plan? How could she find out more? “I never fully understood his role,” she said carefully.

“You don’t need to know. It could be dangerous. If Carolyn—how you say, ticked him off?—he may have been the one who, well, I have said enough.” She thrust her pale face close to Marla’s and expelled a breath of nicotine-tinged air. “I have to thank you for speaking to Zelda. She sent me a check.”

“I’m so glad. Now you both can move on from that incident.”

Shuffling her aside, Jeanine signaled for her customer to get washed. “Maybe our boss lady will tell you what she plans. Some of us may leave if she stays in charge, especially if she moves our location to Miami. Monsieur Boyd is not happy with this arrangement, but Claudia is even angrier.” Along the way, Jeanine paused to straighten a rack of magazines.

Marla trailed her indoors, aware that she had to return to her own salon in a few minutes. “Claudia isn’t here today.”

“She misses too many days. Because you helped me, mademoiselle, I will tell you something. Carolyn threatened to fire Claudia. She didn’t like the way Claudia spoke to customers. My friend would tell people about how we’re struggling to make a living in this country, and they gave her money. Carolyn accused her of being unprofessional, but Monsieur Boyd insisted Claudia remain.”

“What influence does Atlas Boyd have over this salon?” Marla demanded. His name seemed to pop up everywhere.

“Ask Madame.” Jeanine beckoned to the redheaded customer weaving in their direction, her hair dripping with moisture, and said, “I must go now. Thank you for your concern.”

“No problem.” Marla retreated toward the front desk, where Wilda smiled at her benignly. “I see you’ve come out of your trance. Did you get another message from Carolyn?”

“I did, darling.” Wilda’s eyes widened. “She said to tell you one of her friends is a thief. I keep seeing the same image in my mind: a necklace with a pendant that looks to be quite old.”

“An item from her collection?” At Wilda’s blank look, Marla explained. “Carolyn collected Victorian mourning jewelry. Remember how her sister, Linda Hall, was supposed to inherit some valuables, but no one could find them? Rosemary Taylor believed Carolyn’s killer might have stolen the jewelry.”

“Rosemary is the lady who played bingo with Carolyn at that Indian place, yes?” With a cry of pain, Wilda squeezed her eyes shut. “I sense her presence. That means…”

“Rosemary is dead. Murdered.”

“Sweet saints.”

“Getting any signals from her?” Marla asked, biting back her cynicism.

Wilda’s lids flew open. “Don’t discount the power of Spirit, my dear. You’re susceptible to negative energy. It surrounds you, more menacing than the monsoon that almost wreaked havoc along the coast. You cannot escape it unless you take the precautions I suggested.”

Yeah, right. Putting out a bowl of water will absorb bad vibes and keep me from ending up like Carolyn and Rosemary. Not so, pal. The only way to get rid of evil spirits is to expose them in this life
. “What are your plans for the salon?” Marla said, changing tactics. “I noticed Bunny isn’t here today. Did you dismiss your new receptionist?”

“She’s part-time.” Wilda spread her hands. “This isn’t really what I wanted. I appreciate what Carolyn did for me. She was a good friend, despite what you believe. But this plane of existence is too grounded for me. Let me tell you a story. I had a man knock on my door once. He was beside himself with anxiety, constantly fidgeting and not knowing what could be wrong. From his aura, I could see where his energy was blocked. Stuck in a rut, he desired change but lacked courage to make the leap. After I cleared his channels, his renewed surge of energy gave him the guts to go after what he wanted.”

“And this relates to things how?” Marla glanced at her watch, impatient to move on. She didn’t have time for Wilda’s long-winded tales.

“Having to take care of these mundane tasks obstructs my chakras. It’s not for me.” Her sharp gaze lanced Marla. “You, on the other hand, it suits quite well. You see the inner beauty in people, and your skill translates that into style. This place would be wasted on Carolyn’s sister, whose narrow view obscures her vision. Mr. Boyd has his own agenda. That’s why I’m thinking of making you my beneficiary.”

“What?”

“I either need to get rid of the place or move it closer to my home. I can’t; keep commuting like this.”

“Jeanine said Atlas Boyd made you an offer.”

“Mark my words, that man is more than just a foreign investor. He has a peculiar interest in these French girls, but that’s not my problem. I have to follow Carolyn’s wishes.”

“Carolyn would jump out of her grave if you handed me the salon. Anyway, it’s in the same shopping strip as my place, and I’m not sure I’d even want another responsibility. What did you tell Boyd about me? He seemed to be aware of Carolyn’s message.”

“I mentioned that you had a vested interest in seeing Carolyn’s murder solved, and why.”

That would account for his menacing remarks
, Marla thought. Pursing her lips, she pounced on another theory. “What about Claudia? Do you think she had any designs on Hairstyle Heaven? Maybe she expected more from Carolyn and got angry when she was overlooked.”

“You mentioned that Claudia is gone the same time as our landlord. This may be significant,” Wilda remarked, raising an eyebrow. “The girl speaks highly of him and is impressed by his war stories. I don’t see how that sniveling idiot can impress anyone, but Claudia may be looking for a sugar daddy since her sponsor is dead.” Wilda’s eyes glazed. “Oh my.”

“What’s wrong?” Marla asked with a note of alarm. Claudia’s absence didn’t herald anything more sinister, did it?

“I just realized…Dennis Thomson had been in the Marines. Not that you can tell from the current shape he’s in, but he would have had combat experience.”

All right! Besides the chiropractor, here was another suspect who probably knew how to break someone’s neck.

“Go now, Marla. You’re needed elsewhere. Hurry.”

Giving Wilda one last glance, Marla scurried from the salon.
Maybe hauntings were for real
, she mused as she entered Cut ‘N Dye with a sigh of relief. The contrast between her brightly lit establishment and Carolyn’s was like the difference between a level-one and level-ten hair color: night and day.

Welcome warmth rushed over her as Luis smiled from behind the receptionist’s desk and waiting customers called out greetings. Scents of finishing spray mingled with the faint chemical tinge ever present in the filtered air. Feeling relief at being back at her own place, Marla pushed aside Wilda’s warnings and focused her skills on the next client’s hair.

Marla wasn’t expecting Vail to show up. He’d been scheduled to work late, and she had promised to take Brianna to dance class. So when he burst into her salon with Brianna in tow at five o’clock, she felt a chill wind breeze past. Perhaps he’d let in Carolyn’s ghost, she thought, licking her lips nervously.

Brianna didn’t look well; the girl’s complexion paled as though she’d seen the walking dead. “What’s the matter?” Marla demanded, aware this wasn’t a social visit.

“Brie had a scary incident,” Vail said in a brusque tone. “Can we talk privately?”

“I’m just finishing up. Give me a minute.” Spraying her last customer, she surveyed her work with satisfaction.

“My sister wanted me to ask how long she has to wait to go swimming after having her hair highlighted?” the customer said.

Unfastening the woman’s cape, Marla replied, “Ideally, she should wait seventy-two hours after highlights, but she can swim right away with precautions. After she comes out of the pool, tell her to rinse her hair with clear water and apply a conditioner.”

Ten minutes later, Marla had put away her supplies, swiped her counter clean, and turned off the power to her outlets. Nicole and Jennifer were working late; they could lock up. Snatching her purse from a drawer, she signaled to the waiting duo. “I’m ready. Wanna go to Arnie’s for a bite to eat?”

“No.” Vail’s mouth was set in a grim line as he took her arm and steered her toward the door. Brianna shuffled behind them, unusually quiet. She’d slung her knapsack over one shoulder and carried her ballet bag.

Outside, the summer sun burned the pavement with heat. It had yet to descend enough to cool the humid air.

“Brie will go home with you until it’s time for class. I want you to walk her inside. Don’t let her go unaccompanied.”

He halted, clenching his fists at his sides in an uncharacteristic gesture that made Marla want to offer comfort, especially when she saw the worry in his eyes.

“Someone accosted Brie on her way home from the school bus. A man in a black sedan. He wore a ski mask, pointed a gun at her, ordered her to get in his car. She did the smart thing and ran. Unfortunately, no one else witnessed it, so we don’t have more details.”

“Lord save me. Oh, you poor child.” Putting an arm around the girl’s shoulders, Marla drew her close. The teen seemed so fragile and vulnerable that Marla’s protective instincts swung into play. The ferocity of her own feelings surprised her. “I’m so sorry. You must have been terrified. Thank God you didn’t get in the car.”