Shear Murder (23 page)

Brianna came sauntering into view. “Hey, why didn't you guys come and get me?”

“Sorry, we would have picked you up in a few minutes.” Marla shifted her handbag. “We're waiting to talk to someone on the kitchen staff.”

“Learn anything new?”

“Just that Sandy seems to worship Falcon Oakwood.”

The woman with that name cracked open the door. “Come on, Samuel is here. He'll give you a few minutes.”

“Thanks so much for your help, Sandy. I'll pass this information along to my friend. We have your card if she has any further questions.”

Samuel, the executive chef, greeted them in his white uniform. He was a large African-American with a moustache and a sprinkling of gray hair on his head under a towering chef's hat. His wide smile put Marla at ease right away.

They asked a few innocuous questions, got a brief tour of the gleaming stainless steel kitchen, then veered the conversation toward their true purpose.

“We attended a wedding here a few weeks ago.” Marla watched his expression. “I was wondering about a dark-haired waitress on staff at the time. I heard she disappeared afterward. Did she ever show up again?”

“You mean Susan.” Samuel grimaced. “She was a temp hired to replace one of our girls who was sick.” He stroked his jaw. “Seemed like a nice young woman, although a bit shy. Clumsy, too. You could tell she hadn't been at this job for long. Probably just wanted to earn extra money over the holidays.”

“Did you hire her?”

“That would be Rhonda. Don't expect to find anything useful on her application. The cops already said the information given was false.”

Dalton stepped forward. “Why do you think she ran off?”

The chef gave him a scrutinizing glance. “Who did you say you were?”

Dalton flashed his badge. The chef had no way of knowing this wasn't his jurisdiction.

“Who knows?” Samuel shrugged. “She witnessed the crime and got scared? She committed the act? You tell me. We haven't seen her again. She didn't even bother to collect her paycheck.”

“Did you notice anything peculiar about her appearance?” Brianna chimed in, giving Marla a smug look. “Like, was she wearing a wig?”

Marla beamed at her in approval. The teen had a sharp mind.

Samuel scrunched his eyes. “Sorry, we didn't have much contact. My domain is the kitchen, not serving guests.”

“Someone noticed her speaking to the bride's sister shortly before the, uh, body was found.” Marla cleared her throat. “Was there any gossip in the kitchen about what they were saying?”

“None that I've heard. Anyway, my people don't talk about it. Bad karma, understand?”

“I don't suppose one of the guests came into the kitchen that day and swiped a pair of plastic gloves?”

“People come and go all evening at these events. It's impossible to track them all.”

“Did anyone notice if the cake knife had been on the table with the cake before the reception began? It would have been decorated with ribbons and flowers.” Or so Philip Canfield had implied. Another negative response. “How about the table linens? Did anything with red stains turn up? And I don't mean red wine.”

Mute, Samuel shook his head.

“Where do the linens go to get cleaned?” Dalton inserted.

“A driver picks them up.”

“Can you look up the company for us, please?”

Armed with the name and address of the place a few minutes later, they thanked Samuel for his cooperation and left.

“We weren't very subtle,” Marla told Dalton as they headed outdoors. “He's going to report back to Sandy.”

“So what? A murder was committed here. They have to expect questions.”

“Then we should have identified ourselves right away rather than approaching her with a pretense.”

“Who cares?” Brianna led the way on one of the walking trails. “Did you learn anything new?”

Birds twittered and branches rustled in a light breeze that caressed Marla's skin. She breathed in a deep breath of earth-scented air. Greenery flanked their path, palms and live oak trunks vying for space among the dense leafy undergrowth. Water trickled from a rocky stream as they crossed a planked footbridge. She remembered the fork ahead and led the way downhill toward the lakefront.

“We don't know anything more about the waitress except that no one has seen her since Jill's wedding.” Marla ticked off the points on her fingers. “We have the address of the cleaners. And if anyone knows about Falcon's land deal, they're not talking. I still need to get a glimpse of the wedding photos. I can't shake the feeling that they're important.”

“Which ones?” Strolling along beside her on the shady path, Dalton grasped her hand.

The warmth from his palm penetrated her skin. “I'd like to see the ones from the official photographer and the shots from Griff.”

“You don't have time to track them down. May I remind you that we have only two weeks to go to our event?”

She squeezed his hand. “I know.” Her stomach fluttered. It was easier dealing with someone else's affair.

After spending a couple of hours relaxing at the park, they drove to Coral Gables to check out the linen company. Located in the Hispanic district, the cleaners stayed open on Saturdays.

Brianna translated in halting Spanish. They concluded that the linens from Jill's reception had no unusual stains. No big surprise there. The killer had covered his tracks in a clever manner.

They decided to go for a meal at their favorite dim sum restaurant in Miami. Marla enjoyed the lively atmosphere and the tasty food. More importantly, she liked being with Brianna and Dalton. She hoped they'd have many more occasions when they could enjoy each other's company.

They were on the drive home when her cell phone rang.

“Marla, it's Arnie. Where are you? I have some bad news. Jill has been arrested for her sister's murder.”

“Arnie, we're almost at the Palm Haven exit,” Marla said into her cell phone. “What can we do to help?”

“I've got a lawyer for Jill,” he said in a fatigued voice. “We're going to see if we can post bond.”

“She didn't kill her sister. I know your wife hasn't been truthful, but I think it's because she doesn't want you to be hurt.”

“We'll see.” He didn't sound convinced.

“Do you want us to come over? This has to be hard on Josh and Lisa. We can babysit while you get things done.”

“Thanks, but their nanny is managing. I appreciate the offer, though. You're a true friend.”

“No problem. Will you do me a favor and call me when Jill gets out so I don't worry?”

“Sure, Marla. Take care.” He clicked off.

“Arnie hung up,” she told the others who were listening to their conversation. “He doesn't want our help and says he's hoping to get Jill out on bond. I wish he'd let me do something for him.”

“It's not our business,” Dalton reminded her in a soft tone.

“I know, but it hurts to be excluded. I could try to talk some sense into that woman.”

“She has to confess to her husband before anyone else. Their marriage has to be based on honesty or it won't last.”

“You're right.” Marla stared at her hands folded in her lap. “I still feel bad for them.” And angry at the real killer for bringing this upon them.

Marla wasn't one to sit idly by while her friends were in trouble. Nonetheless, she had too many details of her own to handle over the weekend to keep pestering Arnie for more news.

Happy to get a call from him on Sunday that Jill had been released from jail, she concentrated on her own affairs. She and Dalton had received a slew of gifts that had to be catalogued. They had an appointment with the clergymen who were to perform their interfaith marriage ceremony. Cousin Cynthia had phoned about their Uncle Moishe, who wanted to eat at a kosher restaurant while in town for the wedding. Then that afternoon, Marla's brother Michael and sister-in-law Charlene were coming down from Boca with their kids so Charlene could pick up her dress at the bridal shop. They'd all be meeting Anita and Roger for dinner. Meanwhile, Dalton's parents wanted their opinion on a new condo development on Nob Hill Road.

Monday arrived before Marla barely had a chance to blink. My God, were the next two weeks going to fly by this quickly? she wondered, after Dalton left for work and Brianna caught the school bus. She stood in his kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel after doing the breakfast dishes. Today she'd hoped to get things accomplished while she had time to herself, but Arnie's silence bothered her. She hadn't heard a word back from him since he'd told her Jill was coming home.

I am not nosing into their business,
she told herself, picking up the phone later that morning.
I've had my salon partially destroyed, and a warning sent to me along with a vase of orchids. Two people have been murdered. Someone knows I'm getting close. And since Jill has confessed, Detective Brody might stop looking elsewhere for the guilty party. I'll only find peace when both murders are solved.

Monday afternoon found her tooling down the turnpike toward Coral Gables once again. Alexis was making good on her offer to show Marla her home, after Marla determined that Eddy had gone to the office for the day. She knew it was a risk going there on her own, but she felt if Alexis was going to talk, it would be woman-to-woman. Besides, she'd coaxed Alexis into issuing the invitation again after informing her of Jill's arrest.

Marla left a note for Dalton, informing him of her whereabouts just in case. He couldn't get mad at her if she said Alexis asked her to come by.

As her car wound through the streets of Coral Gables, she scanned the street signs painted on rocks by the ground, then turned right as directed through a neighborhood shaded by spreading oaks and graceful palms. She proceeded down the street, studying the mailbox numbers. Most homes in this community were two-story haciendas with lush lawns and tree-lined driveways.

Alexis greeted her under a portico with white columns. Her auburn hair hung in damp strands around her square-jawed face. Again, Marla was struck by her almost masculine features, the impression bolstered by her sculpted limbs and solid torso. She wore a towel wrapped around a swimsuit, and a pair of flip flops.

“Come in. You'll have to excuse me. I got a late start after you called this morning and just finished my swim.”

Marla couldn't resist. “Would you like me to do your hair for you? I have tools in my car. Your ends look like they could use a trim. No charge, of course.”

Alexis clapped her hands. “That would be amazing. Let me do a quick rinse off in the shower and get into some dry clothes. Meanwhile, I'll have Juanita prepare some tea and scones.”

“Okay.” Marla's fingers itched to hold a comb. “I'll get my kit.” A few minutes later, she pushed inside through the open front door and hesitated in the foyer. Straight ahead was an expansive living room. High ceilings, polished wood floors, heavy Mediterranean furniture, and a magnificent view of the pool deck earned her attention.

She heard someone humming, presumably from the kitchen. A moment later a maid bustled inside, smiling at her. She was a short woman with dark, curly hair. “Missus say to go upstairs,
señorita.
She wait for you in bathroom.”

“Okay, thanks.” Hustling up the stairway, she admired the paintings mounted on the walls. Not that she knew much about art, but they appeared to be originals. These were certainly better than the dead animal heads she'd seen in Falcon's house.

After mistakenly peeking into several uninhabited bedrooms, she found the master suite. It took up one whole side of the house, a huge bedroom with a king-size bed, double walk-in closets, and a marble lined bathroom. This had both a generously sized stall shower and a deep tub with those side jets that squirted water at you.

With the air-conditioning temperature down low, the vents blasted away the steam rising from Alexis's quick shower. She'd dressed hastily in a simple shift, her hair knotted atop her head under the towel. Slipping her feet into a pair of sandals, she regarded Marla.

“Where do you want to work?”

“This is fine. You'll need a chair to sit on. Do you mind if the hair falls on the floor? We can sweep it up later.”

Alexis seated herself facing away from the vanity. Studying the shape of her face and the texture of her hair, Marla decided on the type of cut. After fluffing the damp strands and towel drying them once more, she turned Alexis toward the mirror.

“So tell me what happened with Jill,” Alexis began after Marla started snipping.

She'd hoped to hold this conversation later, when they wouldn't be interrupted by the noise from the blow dryer, but Alexis had started the subject.

“Jill confessed to killing her sister.”

Alexis's face tightened. “I don't know if I believe that or not.”

“Didn't you tell me at one time that she'd had issues in her youth? What did you mean?”

“I don't suppose it would do any harm to tell you now, since you know so much already. But you have to promise not to say a word to Arnie until Jill tells him herself.”

“Of course.” Marla sectioned off another clump of hair with a large clip. Her fingers moved automatically, lifting one silky strand after another, cutting at an angle. Alexis should be pleased with the result. It would emphasize her eyes more and her thick neck less.

“Jill and Torrie were always competitive. Jill, five years younger, felt she never got the attention from their parents that Torrie did. Torrie could do no wrong in their eyes, while Jill often got blamed for things.”

“It's sad when parents favor one sibling over another. I've seen it happen. People get lifelong hang-ups and often don't realize where they stem from.”

“That's so true. A neighbor of mine is involved in a lawsuit because her wealthy mother left nothing to her and she'd been the one caring for her in the end. The old lady left everything to the brother who she thought needed the money.”

“That will only drive her heirs farther apart. Was this unfairness why Jill felt estranged from her sister?”

Alexis gave a trilling laugh. “Oh, no. You see, just out of college, Jill married an older man who had a child. She couldn't have horrified her parents more.”