Died Blonde (8 page)

“Oh?” Vail raised his eyebrows.

“I really shouldn’t reveal my client’s confidences,” McGraw stated, rocking back in his executive chair. “Confidentiality and all that, you know.”

“Your client was murdered.” Vail squared his shoulders. “Everything you tell us will be helpful in finding her killer.”

“Carolyn sponsored students at the Sunrise Academy of Beauty,” Marla cut in. “She employed the same girls when they graduated. I’d visited her previous salon, and I wasn’t impressed by its prosperity. How do you suppose she coughed up the funds to support these foreigners as well as make the move back to Palm Haven?”

McGraw’s expression clouded. “Perhaps she had a generous benefactor.”

“You mean, someone who paid her rent, or someone who paid for the girls?”

“Client privacy prevents me from giving any further information. I’d suggest you focus your investigation on those people who knew Carolyn intimately, Lieutenant. Or check out a competitor, one who might have been offended by Carolyn’s intrusion into the same shopping center.”

Resisting the urge to smash the smug grin off his face, Marla dug a fingernail into her palm. “I resent your implication. While I’m not exactly grieving over Carolyn’s demise, I am sorry to see her life end so prematurely.”

“Then why don’t you concentrate on running your salon instead of hers?” His eyes gleamed. “Or maybe it’s entered your mind to make an offer to Wilda Cleaver.”

Unable to keep still any longer, Marla shot to her feet. “Why would I want two salons in the same shopping center?”

“You tell me.”

Vail lazily drew himself up to his full height. “I understand your practice includes immigration law.”

The attorney leveraged out of his chair, tugging on his suit jacket. “That is correct.”

“What kind of visas would those French stylists need to enter this country as students and then be employed in a salon?”

“That depends.” He shuffled a few envelopes on his desk.

“They’re worried about being sent home,” Marla added, swallowing her anger. While provoking McGraw might have been part of Vail’s plan, she’d overreacted while he maintained his cool. The attorney knew which buttons to push to rile her.

“Perhaps the hairdressers are concerned about being dismissed by their new employer,” McGraw offered in an oily tone.

“Wilda said she’d keep them on, and business would continue as usual. I wonder why Carolyn brought them in at all. Maybe she hoped to increase her prestige by having French stylists.”

“Maybe.” The attorney’s shuttered expression hid his opinion.

Marla’s glance caught one of the envelopes that had flipped in her direction. It had a single name, Iapetus, scrawled across the front in sloppy handwriting. No return address, or anything else. Peculiar, especially since the name rang a bell in her mind. She opened her mouth to pose a question when she saw the look on McGraw’s face. Scooping the envelope into a drawer, he gave her a pasty smile.

“I can see why you’d have a special interest in this case, Miss Shore, but I certainly hope your relationship with Detective Vail won’t cloud his judgment. He’s apt to be less objective with you involved.”

She laughed. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He doesn’t ever let me interfere in his investigations.”

Strolling toward the door, she heard Vail’s snort of derision. Like he’d had a choice. After she’d helped solve some of his earlier cases, he’d given up trying to discourage her involvement. Little did the lawyer know that she’d become his unofficial assistant, using her conversational talents and contacts to snoop where the homicide detective dare not go. He valued her contributions, while she prided herself on her astute observations.

Nonetheless, their teamwork did not allow him to batter her reputation around town. She’d already acted once as Arnie’s pretend fiancee, and that news had spread like schmaltz among her friends and relatives. Vail had no right to use the same ploy.

She waited until they were seated in his car driving south on Andrews Avenue to let out her emotions. “Why did you introduce me as your fiancee? If he blabs about our interview, everyone will find out. You could have at least forewarned me.” Folding her hands primly in her lap, she glared at him.

Vail gave her a sexy, disarming grin, and took his hand off the steering wheel to pat her thigh. “Is that such a bad thing? Maybe it’s time we made it official.”

“What?” Her pulse leaped. Did he mean what she thought?

“Well, you know,” he said, jostling his attention between the road and her. “We’ve been going together for several months now. I like having you in the house when I come home from work. You and Brianna are getting along fine. Why not get hitched?”

“Why not? Because…because…is this a proposal?” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Flabbergasted, Marla thought of all the reasons she didn’t want to get married. Obligations of keeping house and cooking dinner. Having to modify her schedule to suit someone else. Attending school functions. And the most important deterrent: she couldn’t stand living in his house. It reeked of memories of his dead wife.

“We’ll have dinner on Las Olas. I know it’s early, but we can stroll around a bit. I thought we’d look in some jewelry shops, you know, so you can pick a ring.”

At least he wasn’t planning on presenting her with Pam’s engagement trophy. He probably intended to give it to Brianna when she was older.

Marla held up her right hand. “You already gave me an amethyst ring.”

“I want you to have a diamond. You deserve it, because you brighten my life. Making you happy is important to me.”

Marla swallowed. “This is rather sudden. I need some time to think about it.”

“Not too long.” He spoke with the confidence of a man who knew she’d give a positive response.

“What did you think about the lawyer?” Marla asked Vail on the drive home.

They’d scoured the jewelry shops on Las Olas Boulevard, but Marla felt Vail could get a better price elsewhere. At least that was the reason she gave for not selecting anything. Vail had noted her ring size and what style solitaire she liked, so he could make the choice. It would allow her time to adjust to the idea. Uncertain of her feelings, she’d made him promise not to tell anyone yet. While she felt secure in his presence and lonely without him, too many obstacles loomed before their union could be blessed.

In the past she’d listened to her family in regard to selecting Mr. Right, and each time her ideal had turned into Mr. Wrong. Dalton appeared to be wrong for many reasons: a widower still attached to his dead wife, with a teenager in tow and a risky job. But maybe for once she should listen to her heart. She and Dalton could confront those barriers together.

Reassuring herself that when the time was right, she’d know her answer, she drifted back to their conversation.

“…he’s involved somehow,” Dalton concluded.

“Sorry, I missed that last part.”

“I said, McGraw is more involved with Carolyn’s staff members then he’s willing to admit.”

“The shyster was concealing information,” Marla agreed. Remembering his furtive movement of slipping the envelope into a drawer, she considered whether to tell Vail. Better wait until she could look up the name scrawled on top, Iapetus, to see if it meant anything. “I’ll bet he knows who was funding Carolyn.”

“Perhaps.” Vail’s stern profile revealed little about the direction of his thoughts.

“Do you have any other leads?”

“I’m still checking into the backgrounds of everyone connected with the deceased.”

She’d filled him in on her recent findings. “I think I’ll make an appointment with the chiropractor Rosemary mentioned.” Rubbing her neck, she gave him a coy glance. “I’ve been working too hard, and my muscles are cramped. I could use a neck adjustment.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “How about a massage? I’ll be working late tomorrow night, but there’s always Saturday.”

Disappointment swept through her. “I thought we were going out to dinner on Friday.”

“Can’t. Would you mind giving Brie a ride to her friend Corey’s house? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

His infectious grin won her heart. “All right. I guess I’ll just stay at your place on Saturday night then.”

With her plans changed for Friday night, Marla called her mother after she got home. Forcing herself not to jump the gun by blurting out Vail’s proposal, she offered to accompany Anita to synagogue.

“I thought you might want some company since Roger is gone,” she explained. “By the way, has Sam Levy contacted you?”

“Not at all.” Ma’s reproving tone told Marla what she thought about her matchmaking efforts.

An idea hatched in her mind with the brilliance of a level-ten hair color. “Uh, are you doing anything on Sunday?”

“I have a luncheon at noon, that’s all. Why?”

“Keep the evening open. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow night when we go to services.”

Anita gave an exasperated sigh. “Polly is starting in on me again about driving on the Sabbath. I brought her some tomatoes yesterday, and, do you know, she wouldn’t take them? She claims to be so religious, and then she roots around in the trash for things to recycle. You need to go over there, Marla. I don’t know how my sister lives as she does. It would be a real mitzvah for you to help her.”

Marla didn’t understand the source of the sisters’ antagonism unless it was just that they had such different personalities. “She’s survived this long on her own.”

“Well, she’s not able to get around like she used to. I’m afraid she isn’t eating properly. When can you get there?”

Marla rolled her eyes. “I’ll go on Sunday. I’m free during the day. We were just going to take Brianna shopping for school supplies.” Maybe she’d ask Vail to accompany her, unless he had to go into work. On the other hand, it might be a good idea to wait before introducing him to the more eccentric members of her family. She didn’t want to scare him off.

Marla called Vail from her salon the next day to propose her idea. “Ma has agreed to leave Sunday evening open. I’ll ask Sam if he has plans. If not, we’ll have them both over for a barbecue.”

His sputtering reply made her smile. “B-but your mom has never been over to my house.”

She noticed he didn’t say
our
house.
Therein lies the crux of the problem
, she noted to herself. Anita’s observations might prompt his awareness of their difficulties in that regard. “It’s as good a time as any to win my mother to your cause. Roger and Barry are out of town. She can’t use them as buffers.”

“We’d have to clean up. I haven’t cut the grass, and—”

“Tch, tch. Let me handle everything. It’s about time we started entertaining together, especially if we’re considering, you know, being together.” She still couldn’t say the words “getting engaged.” The idea seemed unreal. “Brie can invite some friends to come. I know you’ve taken her pals out in return for them having her over, but it would be nice to feed them at your house for a change.”

“It’s been a long time. Brianna won’t admit it, but she’s missed having a mother at home.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly her mother, but I hope she considers me her friend. I’ll talk to her more about it later, when I pick her up.” She hesitated. “Thanks, Dalton. I know this must be difficult for you.”
Never mind how I feel in your house, where Pam’s ghost follows me everywhere. Maybe I need to take Wilda’s advice and guard against negative influences. Or maybe I have to accept that Pam will always be part of our lives, and that she would want you to find happiness with me
.

As long as she was near the telephone, Marla decided, she might as well look up the business number for John Hennings, the chiropractor Rosemary had mentioned. Having secured an appointment for later that day, she realized one more item needed her attention, and a glance at her watch told her she had barely ten minutes to spare before her next customer walked in the door. “I’m running over to the hardware store,” she called to Nicole. “If Lisa comes in, have Joanne shampoo her. I’ll be right back.”

Fortunately, Sam was on duty. The silver-haired gentleman cracked a smile at her entrance. “Hey, Marla. Whaddya need? Don’t tell me you ran out of batteries for your razor again.”

She didn’t mince words in making her offer. “Nope. I’ve come to invite you to a barbecue on Sunday. My mother will be there, and it’s the first time she’s visiting Dalton’s house. She may feel awkward, so I thought if you came, you’d help her out. You’d be doing me a favor, and we’d love to have you.”

Appealing to his sense of chivalry might work, she figured. At least, it didn’t appear to be such a blatant attempt to get them together. Although playing matchmaker had worked in the case of Arnie and Jill, her mother’s admonition about manipulating people came to mind with a rush of guilt.

“I’d be delighted,” Sam said to her relief. His eyes crinkled. “What time, and where’s the address?”

As she scribbled the details, she considered the preparations.
Lord save me, I have a lot to do
.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur as she rushed to finish early and get to the chiropractor on time. When she picked up Brianna later, she’d see if the girl wanted to invite any friends for Sunday. Hot dogs and hamburgers were out: too ordinary. Chicken would be good, along with side dishes that appealed to the younger gang as well as seniors.

Food fled from her mind as she approached Dr. Hennings’s office on foot at five-thirty. Squeezed between an insurance office and a print shop, the unimposing door held a modest sign advertising the doctor’s services. Glad to see a couple of other patients in the waiting room, Marla advanced toward the receptionist and gave her name.

A few minutes later, she took a seat clutching a standard medical questionnaire. As she plowed through the reams of paper with queries ranging from her birth date to her bowel habits, she surreptitiously glanced around the lobby. A sign above the reception desk read make life a lot healthier for family and

FRIENDS. RECOMMEND CHIROPRACTIC CARE. One pastel blue wall held a large poster of a human spinal column and nervous system. Scanning the area, her glance rested on an aquarium with a rock formation and tropical fish in varied colors, but its soothing qualities were counteracted by a blaring television on a Lucite pedestal.

It annoyed her how every doctor’s office or hospital visitor’s lounge had a television. Once when Marla had been waiting for her mother to undergo a medical procedure, she’d turned off the TV so she could read a magazine. An irate nurse had come bustling in to turn it back on, saying it was mandatory to keep the television going so relatives couldn’t hear what went on beyond the doors. Marla had wondered if the nurse didn’t want families to hear the conversation among the medical staff or the screams of their patients.

Shifting her feet on the blue carpet, she filled in her medical history, then paused to survey a child’s table in one corner complete with chairs, preschool toys, and an ugly troll doll. For adults, magazine racks held pamphlets on headaches, carpal tunnel syndrome, and other common ailments. Old issues of
Readers Digest
littered another table.

She finished her questionnaire as one of the other patients was called. A howl of pain came from the inner sanctum, making her wince. She’d never been to a chiropractor, preferring the established medical system, but she knew this type of treatment helped scores of people.

Nonetheless, when her turn came, her heart beat alarmingly fast. Dr. Hennings was a handsome fellow, with curly black hair and engaging brown eyes. Younger than she’d expected, he ushered her into a treatment room with crisp efficiency. Unlike medical doctors, he didn’t wear a white lab coat. A standard dress shirt and trousers were his uniform. A quick glance showed her the only objects in the room were a padded treatment table like you’d see in a massage studio, a small stool on wheels, a single chair, and another poster of the spinal column.

“What brings you here, Marla?” he asked after glancing through her medical questionnaire. She’d put down her reason for coming as “neck pain.”

She rubbed her nape to demonstrate. “I’ve been working long hours lately, and my neck hurts. I thought you might do something for it.”

“Have you ever seen a chiropractor before?” His eyes twinkled as he regarded her face-to-face.

“No, this is my first time.”

He pointed to the chart. “You see the spinal column, and the nerves radiating from it? Nearly all your problems can be accounted for by a disruption in blood flow. If your column is misaligned, it impinges on nerves, and this in turn diminishes blood supply. My job is to find where the blockages are and make adjustments to allow for the normal transmission of nervous impulses. This may take several sessions.”

Not to mention several payments
. At least his services were cheaper than going to her regular doctor. She’d asked about his rates at the front desk.

“I can feel a knot right about here,” she indicated on the side of her neck.

Moving behind her, he placed his large hands on her shoulders. His fingers explored her stiffness. “Boy, these are bunched tight. You must have years of strain piling up on you.”

“Tell me about it.” His manipulating fingers massaged her knots of tension. “Ah, that feels good.”

He ran his hand up her spinal column, carefully palpating her vertebrae. “You’re pretty straight through here. That’s good.” Bending her head forward slightly, he prodded her neck. Then he placed his hands on either side of her head, and before she knew what was happening, he gave a sharp twist that made her shriek.

“The first time is always a shock,” he said with a hint of a smile in his voice. “Now hold still, here’s another one.”
Thwack
, he snapped her neck again, and she cried out, her senses reeling from the jolt.

“That was in the opposite direction from the last one you did,” she gasped. “Didn’t you just reverse the benefit?”

“They’re not the same vertebrae. You should feel a difference.”

“I don’t know about my neck, but I feel dizzy.”

“Stay with me, now.” Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he jerked her so suddenly that she stumbled when he let go. Each sharp adjustment made her feel like her bones were cracking. Or more likely, slipping into place. One wrong move, and he could do serious damage. She wondered if anyone had ever been paralyzed by a chiropractic treatment. Or worse. Remembering the weird angle of Carolyn’s neck, she shuddered.

“Lie down on the table, and let me have a look at the rest of you. Put your face through that hole.”

Lying on her stomach, she muttered, “My friend, Carolyn Sutton, referred me to you.”

“Oh?” Starting at the base of her spine, his fingers climbed northward. After finishing his inspection, he pressed on her spinal column as though testing its flexibility.

“It’s a shame what happened to her. I can’t believe she was murdered.”

He pushed on her lungs, forcing her to expel trapped air. “I thought she died in an accident.”

“Homicide is investigating. When she came to see you, did Carolyn mention any problems she might be having with someone?”

“Why are you asking me?” His wary tone put her on alert.

“She had a habit of learning things about people that could annoy them,” Marla said, hoping to prompt him into revealing any secrets he might harbor.

“How close were you as friends?”

He’s trying to find out how much Carolyn told me
, she thought. So Rosemary was right; Carolyn did have a hold over him. What could she have found out? That he had malpractice claims against him? Something else? She’d have to tell Vail to check into the man’s background.

“I knew a lot about her,” Marla hedged. “I believe the detective said her neck had been broken.”
You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, doctor
?