Read 11 Hanging by a Hair Online
Authors: Nancy J. Cohen
“You’re certain you saw the delivery man carrying a package? I can contact UPS to trace its origins.”
Dalton had gone next door earlier, letting himself in the garage through the unlocked side entrance to look for clues as to who had assaulted her. The rescue people had turned off the car engine after their arrival the night before, and he’d hoped to lift some fingerprints off the shovel found on the ground or the door handles.
His gaze grew thoughtful, while Marla inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Once his mental gears got going, he wouldn’t focus on her blunders anymore.
She moved closer, until she stood inches away. Her face lifted toward his, and she rose on her tiptoes to peck him on the mouth. “Forgive me? I promise I’ll leave the investigating to you hereafter. No more antics on my part, okay?” She stroked his arm.
He smiled, despite his ire. “Why do I not believe you?”
“I have enough to do at my salon. No more snooping, I swear. Oh, did I tell you about Robyn Piper? She might be perfect for my receptionist job. Her marketing position got eliminated, and she’s being laid off.”
Marla rattled on about work issues as she picked up a hairbrush. She proceeded to fix her hair, careful to hide the wound that was sensitive to touch.
Dalton stooped to kiss her neck. “Don’t hesitate to come home if you feel unwell today. You can be stubborn as well as impulsive, and while endearing at times, these traits can also be your undoing. I’ll check in with you later.”
“Gee, thanks for the compliments.”
Brianna meandered into their room. “Are you okay?” she asked Marla with a concerned glance.
“Yes, thanks, I’m fine. I should have woken you earlier. You’d better hurry, or you’ll be late for school.”
Appreciative of her family’s care, Marla vowed not to worry them in the future. She reached for her clothes. By the time Brianna finished in the shower, she’d pulled on a maxi dress with a matching sweater and low-heeled shoes.
Dalton entered the kitchen as she was drying the breakfast dishes. The dogs danced around his ankles. He’d taken them out while Brie was getting ready. Now Marla refilled their water and food containers, marveling at how her family had expanded. She scratched Spooks behind his ears and then gave Lucky a pat. Truly she was blessed.
“I put a tracer on Krabber’s package with UPS,” Dalton said, his keen gaze assessing her. “Maybe we can track down the sender.”
“That would be helpful. Alan got a lot of deliveries. I’d love to know what he ordered all the time. He wasn’t a hoarder, was he? Did you see anything unusual when you searched his house?”
“He had a lot of hurricane supplies.”
“What do you mean?”
“His closet was crammed full of survival gear. The man must have been paranoid about natural disasters. Hence the generator in his backyard, too.”
“Maybe he went through Andrew,” Marla said, mentioning the disastrous hurricane that had driven people north from Homestead and Miami.
Dalton poured himself a glass of orange juice and downed it, while Marla unplugged her cell phone from the charger. Stocking up for a hurricane wasn’t something she’d have to do for a few more months. The season didn’t start until the first of June.
“I’d say Krabber was being more than cautious from the stuff crowding his shelves.” Dalton regarded her steadily. “Not only did he stock up on nonperishable food items and paper goods, but he had water filtration kits, first-aid supplies, lanterns and camping gear, solar energy kits, and even respirators.”
“Wow, he was nothing if not prepared. Philip did say his uncle talked about the end of the world. Maybe he hoped to survive.”
“The guy was methodical. His items were stacked in alphabetical order.”
“No kidding? And you don’t consider that a bit extreme? Obsessive labeling of his possessions and collecting so many goods could be indicative of OCD.”
“Or, like you said, Krabber had been through a disaster himself, and it spooked him. I don’t understand the mailing supplies, though. He had enough boxes and package tape to open his own post office.”
“It’s my theory that not all of those UPS stops were for deliveries. Some were for pickups.”
Dalton shrugged. “Let’s see what I can find out from the delivery people.”
They each left for work with plenty of thoughts to chew on throughout the day. Marla told her mother about their latest discovery when checking in with her during a break at the salon. She carefully left out any mention of her near disaster.
“Maybe he was preparing for the end of the world,” Anita said. “Some nutcases out there preach that stuff, you know.”
“Living in Florida would have given Alan enough reason to be cautious.” Speaking of nutcases, what was happening with her mother’s beaux? “By the way, how are things with Roger? Have you seen him lately?”
“We went out for dinner last night. I was surprised when he asked.”
I’m surprised you accepted after the way he’s treated you.
“How nice,” she said instead. “I suppose he hasn’t changed his plans for Passover?”
“No, and I really don’t care. Who else is coming to your house?”
Marla related the guest list. “It should be interesting with Dalton’s parents there. It’ll be their first Seder.”
“I imagine your brother will lead the service?”
“Yes, and I’ve already told him. I have the Haggadahs. Our friends Arnie and Jill are coming with their kids, too.”
“Oh, good. I haven’t seen them since your wedding. What would you like me to bring? Shall I do the chicken soup?”
“That would be great, thanks.” Marla sucked in a deep breath. “Dalton expects me to host Easter dinner the following weekend. Would you like to join us?”
“I suppose I’ll have to get used to you celebrating both holidays.” A pause. “All right, I’ll be happy to come.” Anita made it sound as though Marla needed her for moral support. “What will you serve? Not pork or ham, I hope.”
“Certainly not.” They were having brisket and chicken for Passover. She should do something different for Easter dinner. What else might be a traditional dish? “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe I’ll do turkey.”
Passover would be the first time she and Dalton entertained in their new home. Then again, other than Arnie and Jill, what mutual friends did they share?
An epiphany burst inside her like a cascade of fireworks. A newlywed couple had to build new relationships. Accustomed to being single, she’d been seeking out other women for friendships. But now she was part of a family, and that meant she should look for couples with whom she and her husband could both socialize.
“What’s the matter?” Nicole asked when she returned to her chair from the back storeroom where she had made her private call.
Marla related her observations. “I never thought of marriage in those terms, but we’re establishing a new life in more ways than one. It’s a different
megillah.
”
“No kidding, sister. And don’t forget your teenage stepdaughter. It would help if you could meet parents with kids her age. Then you can compare notes on college applications and all that stuff.” Waiting for her next client same as Marla, Nicole glanced toward the front desk. “I need to bring Eddie up to snuff, or it’s going to be too late for me to have children.”
“Yeah, and how’s that going?” This was a frequent refrain for her fellow stylist. Eddie, an electrician, was happy with their casual relationship.
“I don’t want to scare him off, Marla. If I give him an ultimatum, that’s what will happen. He’ll skitter away like a frightened rabbit. The man is allergic to commitment.”
“You can’t go on forever this way if you really want to tie the knot, although lots of couples these days aren’t getting married.”
It was a sad reflection on western society that so many young people lived together without taking the next step. Now that women were financially independent, did they prefer to keep their freedom rather than submit to the bond of marriage? Yet living together brought along its own set of responsibilities.
She could understand an older couple not wanting to risk their estates being taken from their children, but a pre-nup could take care of that worry. Young adults didn’t have those concerns. Although not a religious person, Marla did believe in certain basic tenets. According to her faith, the Lord sanctified marriage. Was modern society straying so far from this doctrine? Was Angela right in that the end was near because, like in Noah’s time, people had lost their way?
“Yo, Marla, your two o’clock is here,” Luis called from the front desk.
She shook herself from her reverie and strode ahead to greet her customer. After applying the highlights and setting the timer, she turned back to Nicole, who had just applied a coloring agent to her client. They both had about twenty minutes free, having a lull in their schedules.
“Let’s continue our discussion outside.” She signaled to Nicole to follow her to the rear where they could go out the back door and talk in private. “What are you going to do about Eddie? Just let things slide like always?”
Nicole leaned against the outer wall. “I’m afraid of losing him if I push too hard.”
Across a canal, the back of another shopping center faced them. To the left was the meter room, which held unpleasant memories for Marla. Maybe that’s why she didn’t come out here too often. Fortunately, none of the other stylists were here having a smoke.
She inhaled a deep breath of warm, dry air. The odor of sun-heated trash came her way along with the more enticing scent of roasted garlic from Arnie’s deli a few doors down.
“Why are you so concerned with how Eddie feels?” she asked Nicole. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Maybe he should be afraid of losing you.”
Uncertainty rode in Nicole’s brown eyes. “Maybe he doesn’t care.”
“Then is he the right person for you? You deserve better, hon. I say, put him to the test.”
“How so?” Nicole flicked a strand of raven hair behind her ear. She’d cut and straightened it into a chin-length bob that flattered her oval face.
“Make him jealous. He doesn’t have any hold over you. So date other guys.”
“I’m not interested in anyone else.”
“How do you know? You’ve gone with Eddie for so long that you’ve forgotten what’s out there. There’s a cute guy in the fire department who might be right for you, and I think he’s single. I didn’t see any ring on his finger.”
“Oh, yeah? Where did you meet this fellow?”
Marla watched a long-necked white bird alight on the grassy slope by the canal and peck around for food. A breeze whipped hairs about her face. It was a day more worthy of a walk in the park than work.
“Good heavens,” Nicole said after Marla told her about the incident next door. “And you have no idea who attacked you? Man or woman? Any special clues you remember? Shoes, smells, anything?”
“I got hit as soon as I turned around to head back to my place. But you’re changing the subject. We were talking about you. Dalton and I should hold a barbecue after the holidays are over, maybe on Memorial Day weekend. We can invite you and the EMT guy. Heck, we’ll invite the whole team who saved me so it doesn’t seem odd.”
Nicole gave her a severe look. “You shouldn’t have needed rescuing in the first place. Are you telling me your husband hasn’t found the neighbor’s killer yet?”
Marla had told Nicole that Dalton was back on the case. She shook her head. “Lots of people have motives, but there are still too many loose ends to follow.”
“What does Dalton say about the suspects? Surely, he must have eliminated some of them based on their alibis by now. So who’s left?”
Marla stared at her. “Good question.” Dalton’s willingness to share the details was limited, however.
“Means, motive, and opportunity,” said Nicole, raising a finger for each term. As an avid fan of whodunit fiction, she knew the finer points of homicide investigation. “You haven’t done your homework.”
Without a backward glance, Nicole strode inside the salon. Marla lingered to dial Dalton’s number. She had to clarify this issue right now. If he’d knocked off some suspects from his list, he hadn’t told her.
“Marla,” he said upon answering. “I was just going to call you. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but—”
“We’ve located Alan Krabber’s former girlfriend, the one who left him to go to Europe? Lucky for us, she’s alive and well and lives on Marco Island. Want to take a drive to the west coast?”
“Tell me again what you know about the woman.” Marla shifted in the passenger car seat on the following Sunday. Dalton drove, his gaze fixed on the road. They sped along Alligator Alley toward Florida’s west coast.
Brianna sat in the back, texting friends on her cell phone. Dalton had been delayed during the week with other issues, and Marla had been busy at the salon, so they’d agreed on Sunday for their excursion. Alan’s former flame owned a boutique and had agreed to talk to them.
“Her name is Gayle Lindberg. She’s married with three kids who are grown and out of the house. She and her husband lived in Massachusetts until five years ago when he retired and they moved to a condo on Marco Island.”
“Wasn’t she from Florida originally? She was only a teenager when she met Alan and they had their torrid affair.”
He inclined his head, a lock of hair falling forward. “It wasn’t merely an affair. He’d planned to marry her.”
“What happened, Dad?” Brianna piped up from behind.
“They got engaged and even started planning the wedding, but she was Jewish and Krabber wasn’t. Her parents disapproved of him. They lived in Miami at the time, and social circles were tight in those days.”
“Her folks hustled her off to Europe, where she wrote Alan a letter to break off their engagement,” Marla said. “After her return, she mailed his ring back and refused his attempts to see her.”
Dalton shot a wry glance her way. “She married a Jewish lawyer who had two children. Not long after their wedding, they had a baby son.”
“How long afterward?” Brianna asked.
Marla twisted her neck to peer at the teen. “Are you thinking the baby might not have been the husband’s child?”