11 Hanging by a Hair (8 page)

“I see you have highlights.” Marla ruffled the lady’s hair. “Are you happy with this shade?” In her opinion, the strands were too light. They should have been more subtle.

Susan made a face in the mirror. “They’re too streaky, the main reason why I’ve wanted to change stylists. I think they left the bleach on too long.”

“I can fix that for you if you wish.”

“Could you tone it down? I thought I’d have to wait until my roots started to show.”

“No, we can take care of it.” Marla signaled to Luis and had him check the schedule to see if she’d have time. It would be a squeeze, but she could manage. “Did you say you live in Royal Oaks?” Marla said after mixing up bowls of solution and returning to her station.

“Yes, I’m in the house two doors down from yours, on the other side of Alan Krabber.”

“Is that right?” She selected a comb. “His death was a horrible tragedy.”

“I’ll say.” Susan’s glance met hers in the mirror. “Who’d have thought the man would take his own life? I mean, he wasn’t easy to get along with, as you well know, but still—”

“It’s hard to believe,” Marla finished. She picked up a foil, separated a strand of hair onto it, and painted on one of the solutions with her favorite brush. Her fingers folded the foil automatically. “Did you attend the annual meeting?”

“No, I couldn’t. My husband David had to work late, so I was home watching the kids.”

“How many children do you have?”

“We have a boy who’s eight and a girl who’s five. We moved in last June.”

“I gather Alan was one of the original residents in the neighborhood.”

“That’s true. We didn’t see much of him. He mostly kept to himself.”

“Do you work outside the home?” Marla lifted another strand.

“I’m a consulting editor for a women’s magazine, and I write a blog in my spare time, but I do them from my home office. It keeps my mind active.” She winked at Marla in the mirror.

“I’ll say. So tell me, did you have any problems with Alan?”

“Huh, who didn’t? He used to complain about our kids all the time. They were too noisy, or they ran into his yard. I didn’t like it when that tractor came to dig up his ground.”

Susan seemed eager to talk, so Marla probed deeper. “Why do you think he wanted a big generator like that? I can understand families with young children needing power or old people who can’t tolerate the heat without air conditioning, but the man seemed fairly healthy.”

“Alan was more concerned with his computers than his a/c. On bulk trash day, he’d throw out lots of boxes from electronics purchases.”

“I gather he was retired. Maybe that was his hobby.”

“Computers? It’s possible. He didn’t strike me as the gamer type, though. He could have been active on the social nets.” Susan gave a wicked grin. “Or maybe he played online poker.”

“Now, that’s a thought. One of my elderly customers loves to play online sweeps. She’s actually won some prizes, too.” Marla finished applying the solution. Her job done, she put down her brush and set the woman’s timer.

Susan twirled in the chair to face Marla. “I heard about your debacle with the fence. It didn’t surprise me. Alan was strict to enforce the rules for others but not for himself.”

Marla stacked the remaining foils in a roundabout drawer. “Can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against him?”

“Besides you and me, you mean?” Susan chortled, but then her expression turned serious. “Are you suggesting it wasn’t suicide?”

“Not at all, but you never know. He didn’t seem despondent to me. Who’s his next of kin?” Marla asked as though she didn’t possess that knowledge.

“His nephew inherits the estate, I imagine. Alan didn’t have anybody else. I felt sorry for him, until I came home from grocery shopping one day and found all our patio furniture in the pool. He’d complained about our kids screaming outside his window the day before, so I’m sure it must have been him. He didn’t like children or pets.”

Marla wouldn’t put it past Krabber, not if he was the one who’d left the bag of dog poop on their driveway. He had a mean streak that he’d kept hidden. How many other people had he offended?

“Did you confront him about it?” She glanced at her watch. Her next appointment should be arriving any minute. Familiar sounds reached her ears: water splashing, blow dryers whirring, people chatting. Every now and then, she’d hear the cash register drawer open and close.

Susan’s eyebrows rose. “Heck, no. The man would only give me his self-righteous crap.”

“Tell me about it.” Marla tapped the timer. “You have forty minutes. Can I get you a cup of coffee? There’s Danish out front, too, if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Susan’s brows drew together. “Is it true your husband is a police detective?”

“That’s right.”

“I thought I saw somebody in Alan’s backyard yesterday. A dog started barking around that time. Then I saw a rescue truck by the house. Do you know what happened?”

Marla winced at the memory. “My poodle got loose and ran into Alan’s yard. I found Spooks lying in that dreadful pit and called 9-1-1. That hole is a hazard.”

“Maybe I imagined it, but I thought I’d heard pounding noises from back there before the dog barked. Soon after, a shadow passed our bathroom window on that side. I couldn’t see much, but it looked like a figure darting by.”

“This could be important. I’ll tell Dalton.”

“Is he investigating? I mean, the cops aren’t just writing off Alan’s death, are they?”

“Of course not. It’s routine to investigate in cases like this,” she said in a noncommittal tone. “Can you think of anything else that might be useful?”

“I don’t think so.” A pause. “I’m still creeped out about Alan dying next door. I mean, I know it’s a terrible thing and all. But Marla, considering the circumstances, maybe we should watch each other’s backs until we learn more.”

Marla told Dalton what their neighbor had related Tuesday evening at dinner. “Someone might have thrown Spooks in that pit to shut him up,” she concluded, cutting a slice of leftover brisket and forking it into her mouth. “He didn’t just fall into the hole chasing a squirrel.”

“Possibly.” Dalton hunched over his meal while the dogs sniffed at their feet, hoping for handouts or crumbs.

Spooks seemed his usual lively self, to everyone’s relief. Brianna lavished extra attention on him, handing him a piece of meat under the table. To be fair, Marla gave a morsel to Lucky.

She ate in silence for a few minutes but then more questions surfaced. “If Spooks did disturb someone back there, what were they doing?”

Dalton’s eyebrows lifted. “Looking for something, maybe? At any rate, you should be telling Detective Minnetti about this, not me.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?”

“About as well as you can expect.”

She examined his face. “That bad, huh? She isn’t keeping you in the loop?”

His glance skittered away. “My other buddies keep me informed.”

“You’d think she would have the courtesy to confer with you.”

“Why should she?” His gaze swung back. “Kat doesn’t know me well. During her first week on the job, her new partner is removed from a murder case. She’s smart to be cautious.”

Marla put her fork down. “She has issues, if you ask me. How much were you told about her background?”

“Nothing personal, just that her credentials were impeccable.”

“Did she request a transfer or was she given one? You should find out more about her. Once this case clears, you’ll be partners again. You need to be with someone you can trust.”

He grimaced. “I know. The chief seems to think highly of her, though.”

Brianna drank a sip of water. “Dad, did you hear anything else about Mr. Krabber?”

“Preliminary tox screens suggest he may have had meds in his system.”

Marla sat up straight. “Really? When were you going to share this news?”

“When we have something more definitive.”

“What about the autopsy results?”

“Not in yet, but it shouldn’t be long. We don’t have a huge backload right now.”

“That means the body will be released. I wonder if the nephew will hold a memorial service.”

Dalton gave her an oblique glance. “We’ll probably remove the crime scene tape tomorrow. Keep a lookout for his car in the driveway. You might want to pay the guy a condolence call.”

Marla stared at him. “Are you suggesting I pump the man for information?”

“You never know what might come to light during a friendly conversation.”

Brianna shoved her chair back. “Marla, if someone was in Mr. Krabber’s backyard yesterday, it’s possible that person wasn’t searching for something but was looking for a way inside the house.”

Marla’s attention veered to the teen, who’d fixed her hair in a bun in preparation for dance class. “For what reason?”

“To erase evidence. Or to retrieve an item left behind the night of the murder.”

She’d make a great teen detective, Marla thought with a swell of pride. “Those are valid theories, but we have no proof that anyone was actually in the yard.”

Dalton rose from the table and took their empty plates to the sink. “Even if this person got inside, our team had already scoured the place.”

“They could have missed a minor detail,” Brie insisted.

“So is it definitely a homicide now?” Marla asked. “Because if Alan ingested drugs, how could he hang himself? Didn’t you say a desk chair was by the rail? How would he climb up on it, let alone fasten a noose around his neck, if he was groggy?”

“I didn’t say what kind of meds might be in his blood. And what does it matter? Suicide victims find a way to accomplish the task. Unfortunately, they often give no indication about their intent.”

“True, but aren’t there warning signs?”

“Sure. They may put their affairs in order, make provisions for their pets, give away articles of value, and even mention death. Hints can be there if you’re looking for them, but not always.”

“You believe Alan Krabber killed himself like you believe I have two heads.” Wishing they had more solid information, she shoved away from the table and stood. “Come on, Brie. I’ll do the dishes while you get your dance bag.”

After the teen left the kitchen, Marla made fast work of cleaning up. She’d just wiped her hands on a dish towel when Dalton approached from behind. His spice cologne wafted into her nostrils as his hands clamped onto her shoulders and spun her around.

He kissed her soundly then stood back. “Sorry if I’ve been abrupt lately. I’m itching to be involved on this case. It irks me to have to stand aside while my substitute takes over.”

“Lieutenant Minnetti isn’t replacing you, Dalton. You’re just temporarily reassigned.”

“Yeah, to do boring paperwork.”

“Such is the responsibility of a higher rank like yours.” She gave him a sunny smile, grateful he was confiding in her. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him back. “Minnetti will soften once she gets to know you. Now I’ve got to run, or Brie will be late.”

Marla dropped the teen off at the dance studio, parked her Camry, and exited the vehicle. She’d run into a nearby shop to browse. She didn’t feel like driving home and back again. Immersed in thought, she didn’t at first notice the woman coming out of the jewelry store until they nearly bumped into each other.

“Cherry Hunter, how nice to see you.” Marla recognized the Royal Oaks treasurer.

Cherry, who’d been admiring a diamond tennis bracelet on her arm, jerked her head up to regard Marla with a perplexed frown. Obviously she had no idea who Marla was, when seen out of context.

“Oh, hello. Do I know you?”

“I’m Marla Vail from Royal Oaks. We met at the annual homeowners’ meeting.”

Cherry’s mouth, a slash of red lipstick, widened in a smile of recognition. “Oh, of course. You’re the lady married to the cop. And don’t you live on Alan Krabber’s street?”

“We’re his next-door neighbors. Say, can I buy you a drink? I’d like to discuss a few things about him.”

“I’m afraid I have to—”

“I’ve reason to believe his death may not be a suicide,” Marla said quickly before the other woman declined her offer. This might be their only chance for a private conversation.

“Well, I suppose I could spare the time.” Cherry’s eyes turned crafty. “But in exchange, would you agree to help with our community garage sale? We need someone to fill in for a volunteer who had to resign.”

Marla figured she could fit in a few hours on a Sunday, and it might be a good way to get to know more neighbors. “Sure,” she agreed. “I’m willing to pitch in.”

“Great!” Cherry exclaimed as though relieved. “I’m in the mood to celebrate anyway.” She headed for the parking lot.

“What’s the occasion?” Marla scurried to match her pace. The woman had a brisk stride, arms swinging purposefully at her side as though she often did power walks.

Cherry glanced at her bracelet. “Oh, I guess you could say I got a bonus.”

“Really? How nice. What sort of work do you do?”

Had Cherry just bought that piece of jewelry for herself? Or had it been a gift? Marla had seen fourteen-karat gold and diamond tennis bracelets range in price from just under three thousand to twenty thousand dollars in the department store ads. Cherry’s bracelet had pretty large diamonds, although weight and quality could vary. Its brilliance contrasted to her chunky silver and turquoise necklace and earrings.

“Let’s go to Bokamper’s, and then we’ll talk,” Cherry said, inclining her head toward Marla. “Is that all right?”

“Sure. I just dropped my stepdaughter off for dance class, so I have some time to kill.”

They got seats outside at the popular sports bar and grill. The outdoor area overlooked a waterway next to a busy intersection. Tuesday made for a quiet crowd, for which Marla was grateful. On weekends one could barely get space there, especially when special events centered around sports brought in more patrons.

Traffic hummed in the background while water splashed in a fountain in an adjacent pond. Tropical greenery graced the landscaping. The temperature, pleasantly in the seventies, benefitted from dry air and a descending sun.