11 Hanging by a Hair (13 page)

“His nephew said Alan didn’t pursue anyone else after his broken engagement. It wasn’t for lack of opportunities, either. According to Cherry Hunter, our association treasurer, Alan was quite the ladies’ man.” Marla repeated their conversation.

“So Krabber played around with women but didn’t ever get serious again. Hmm, I wonder . . .”

“What?” Marla’s teeth crunched on a candied pecan.

“Alan’s fiancée was removed to Europe. It brings to mind the days when parents swept their unwed daughters off to the Continent because they’d gotten pregnant. Could this be why she disappeared off the scene?”

“But Alan meant to marry her. Why take her away if he’d make an honest woman of the girl?”

“In her parents’ view, he might not raise a child in the proper religious tradition. What if their daughter had a son who needed to be circumcised? From what you’ve known of the fellow, can you imagine Krabber approving such a practice?”

“Maybe he’d have converted to please his fiancée. Alan might have married her even sooner knowing she carried his child. Her folks took that choice from him.”

“Have you considered another possibility? He didn’t know about the baby at all?”

“Thanks for meeting me here, Lieutenant.” Marla wrapped a hand around her coffee cup and regarded Detective Minnetti, seated across from her at Starbucks. She’d chosen a couple of comfy armchairs away from the crowd lined up by the cashier.

Thursdays were her late day at work, so she had time in the morning to meet the detective. She’d been too busy the previous few days to follow up on her mother-in-law’s notion. She decided to go directly to the homicide detective with her information. It could be something . . . or nothing. Minnetti could decide. Marla would mention it to Dalton later, if Minnetti felt her lead was worthwhile.

“What have you got?” Minnetti went directly to the point. She wore a pencil skirt with a cranberry blouse and black jacket.

Did she ever dress casually? Marla wondered how best to start.

She reported her findings to date, while expressions ranging from curiosity to surprise to disapproval flickered across the woman’s face. Minnetti sipped from her cup of black coffee during Marla’s recital.

“I can see how you’ve been helpful to your husband,” Minnetti said with a slight smile. “Your theory is interesting, but I’m not sure we can trace this woman. Krabber was sixty-seven years old when he died. This would have been, what, forty years ago?”

“There must be something you can do to discover more about her. Where did Krabber grow up? Can you interview people who knew him back then? Did he leave a school yearbook among his possessions? Or a collection of old love letters?”

The lieutenant assessed Marla with her shrewd brown eyes. “We’ve been researching anyone connected to him in his adult life. Old girlfriends, for example. Word has it that Cherry Hunter was interested in him at one time, but none of his flings led to anything serious.”

“This goes further back into his past. Have you asked the nephew about memorabilia?”

The detective pursed her lips. “I can query him on the topic, but what’s the point? Let’s say the fiancée had a child while in Europe. She might have given it up for adoption.”

“Or else she brought the baby home and married a guy who raised the kid as his own. Her parents were wealthy. They could have provided a financial incentive to this new suitor.”

“Where are you going with this idea?”

“What if the child, once grown, was determined to find his biological father after learning he’d been adopted? He could have approached Krabber and been rebuffed. Krabber may not have cared about any offspring from the woman who rejected him.”

“And then the kid killed Krabber out of resentment?” Minnetti shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. What would he gain?”

“Revenge? Maybe he believed Krabber had deserted his mother, and not the other way around. There wouldn’t be any monetary incentive since Philip Byrd is the heir. Has anyone made a claim against the will?”

Minnetti cast her a startled glance. “I don’t think so, but I’ll talk to the attorney again.”

“This may be a dead end, but it’s worth pursuing. My husband always says to examine all the angles.” Marla put her cup down and leaned forward. “I wish you’d trust him, Kat.” She used the woman’s first name on purpose.

“It’s more a matter of him trusting me. He needs to let me do my job without sending you along as interference.”

Marla stiffened. “Excuse me? Dalton doesn’t know I’m meeting with you. I thought I’d give you the respect due your position and come to you directly with this information.”

“And I appreciate that, but I also realize you’re aiming to bring your husband back on the team. The chief is right to keep him out of it. He had personal feelings against the victim. Besides, he’s working another homicide right now.”

“The two of you are supposed to be partners. How will you watch each other’s backs if you can’t learn to work together?”

“That’s not your issue.” Minnetti’s lips pressed together and her expression shuttered.

Marla sought a way to ease the tension that had sprung up between them. “Were you able to glean any data from Alan’s computers, Kat? I’m curious as to what he did online all day.”

“So am I. We’re working on it. Meanwhile, do you have anything else to add?”

“What about the UPS deliveries? Have you tracked Alan’s shipments to where the packages originated?” Marla heard a desperate edge creep into her voice. She wasn’t going to learn any more from this conversation than going in.

Minnetti gave an exasperated shake of her head. “Let it go, hon. You know I can’t discuss details about the case.”

“Wait, I forgot to tell you that the fiancée who spurned Alan was Jewish. That might help you learn her identity.”

“Actually, that is useful. It gives me an understanding of the deceased’s attitude at the homeowners’ meeting.”

“See? I can be helpful.”

“Oh, you’ve been helpful in more ways than one. But you’re also meddling in affairs that shouldn’t concern you. Focus on your family, Marla, and not on your husband’s job. You never know when someone you love might be snatched away from you.”

She rose and stalked away as Marla stared after her, wondering at the bittersweet tone of her last words. An urge to learn more about the woman grasped her, but it would be tough when Minnetti’s emotional armor was so hard to penetrate.

Work occupied her time for the rest of the day, and then Marla got caught up in plans for Brie’s birthday. She bought packs of flavored lip gloss as favors for Brie’s friends. And then the day arrived, sunny and warm, a perfect Sunday for lunch on the Intracoastal.

Marla picked up her mother and headed over to the restaurant ahead of time. Dalton was bringing Brie after she finished her homework, or at least that was the excuse for their later arrival. Marla wanted to make sure enough seats had been placed around the tables. At final count, there would be sixteen guests.

“I’m sorry Roger couldn’t make it, but at least he called you.” She gripped the steering wheel while sparing a glance at her mother.

Anita hadn’t said much, sitting on the passenger side with taut lips and a firm expression. She wore a canary yellow ensemble with green trim, reminding Marla of a parakeet. That made her think of Philip Byrd and his save the rainforests cause. How would he use his uncle’s money? Would he put it toward his retirement savings? Buy himself a bigger home? Donate some of the funds to his nonprofit group?

Stop that, Marla, and focus on family.
Minnetti was right; you never knew when happiness could be snatched away.

“So what did Roger say?” Marla probed, hoping to elicit a response and break through her mother’s frost.

“He’d been busy with his sister who’s in town. But when I said I’d like to meet her, he muttered an excuse.” Anita’s gaze lowered. “He sounded distant, as though he didn’t care anymore. I think he called just so I’d stop pestering him.”

“I’m sorry, Ma. But if that’s his attitude, you’re better off by yourself.”

Marla aimed a few venomous thoughts in Roger’s direction. She hadn’t liked him all that much, thinking him loud and obnoxious, but he’d pleased her mother and kept her company. Now she’d be lonely, her days empty, unless she threw herself into some other activity.

It took them nearly an hour to reach Jasmine’s on the Intracoastal in Hollywood. The last Sunday in March had brought out a crowd, but Marla found a parking space without a problem. Carrying her gift for Brianna and the box of bagged party favors, she entered the sprawling restaurant.

Marla nudged her mother toward the maître d’ at the host stand. The dark-haired man’s face brightened as he spotted her. He wore a sport coat over a tropical shirt and tan pants.

“Hello, Carlos, this is my mom, Anita Shorstein.” Marla waited until they’d exchanged greetings. “Is everything ready? My daughter should be here shortly.”

“Of course. Follow me, please.”

With a grand, sweeping gesture, Carlos ushered them into a private room in the back. The space had an expansive bank of windows facing the famed waterway. A double-deck tourist boat plowed past, bursting with visitors. Across the glistening water, a mega-yacht parked at a dock by a private residence. Most houses facing the windows were mansion proportions by her standards.

Fort Lauderdale was known as the “Yachting Capital of the World.” Most tourists didn’t realize that the marine industry was the leading form of commerce there. Marla had read once that it contributed more than one hundred thousand jobs and over ten billion dollars to the local economy. With three hundred miles of waterways and plentiful marine repair facilities, Fort Lauderdale was a popular international port of call.

She took her dreamy gaze away from the windows and beamed at Brianna’s friends, who’d assembled in readiness for the birthday girl’s arrival. Kate and John hadn’t arrived yet, nor had her brother’s family, but it didn’t matter if they encountered Brie on their way in. She expected them to be present.

Marla hugged each of the girls, complimenting their hair or clothes and generally making each one feel welcome. Then she checked over the table settings. The waiter chose that moment to zoom inside and ask if everything was all right. Marla reviewed her instructions with him as the girls resumed their chatting and laughter.

She glanced up when her brother Michael entered with his wife, Charlene. A grin split her face as she hastened over to greet them.

“Where are the kids?” Marla peered around her brother’s tall frame, but Jacob and Rebecca were nowhere in sight.

“They’re with my parents today.” Charlene smoothed her sundress. Her tawny eyes brought out the golden highlights in her oak hair, which she wore straight down her back. “We thought it best not to disrupt the party with small kids. Besides, I could use a day off from children, if you know what I mean.” Charlene, thirty-four, worked as an elementary school teacher and hoped to make principal one day.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen my niece and nephew. I’d looked forward to visiting with them.”

“You can see them at Passover. Where are we doing it this year, anyway?”

“I thought I’d invite everyone over to our house. Cousin Cynthia hasn’t seen our new place, and neither have you guys. Can you believe Cynthia’s son is graduating college this year?”

“We’re all getting older,” her brother said. Having hit forty recently, Michael showed his age with graying temples. Otherwise, he shared Marla’s brown hair and eyes.

“I’ll discuss the Seder with Dalton, but I’m sure he won’t mind. You’ll have to lead the service, though.”

“No problem.”

“Excuse me, I’m going to put this gift down.” Charlene headed to the table designated for that purpose.

“I should say hello to Ma.” Michael veered away to greet their mother.

Kate and John joined the party ten minutes later. Kate approached Marla for a quick embrace and an air kiss.

“Hello, Anita,” Kate waved to Marla’s mother. “How are you?”

Anita strode over. “I’m just fine, thanks. How is your condo hunt coming?”

Stepping away, Marla skewed a glance at her father-in-law. John had meandered over to admire the buttercream birthday cake displayed on a separate table. With an inner wince, she recalled how her friend Jill’s wedding had turned into a fiasco after Marla discovered the matron of honor dead under the cake table.

She shoved aside the memory to focus on this happy occasion. Dalton should arrive at any moment with Brie. However, the next person who shuffled inside the room took her aback. What was
he
doing here?

“Anita!” hollered Roger Gold. “Come and give me a kiss, lovey ducky.”

Marla cringed, hoping her mother would tell him off so he’d leave. But no, Anita scurried to obey, her face bright with joy. Roger wore a gold shirt as befitting his name and a pair of green trousers. He’d combed his wheat-colored hair to cover the large bald spot on his head. His shirt didn’t do such a comparable job with his girth.

“Heya, doll,” he called to Marla, offering a wave.

Dalton’s parents stiffened at his entry. She knew they considered him crass, but they acted polite for Anita’s sake. It didn’t look as though Roger had brought a gift, either, unless he planned to give Brianna some cash. Knowing the guy, she figured he had probably come for the food.

Marla summoned the waiter to remove one of the extra place settings since Michael’s kids weren’t there. Roger could have the other seat. In the midst of her preparations, she couldn’t help overhear her mother’s conversation.

“Why have you been ignoring me all week?” Anita asked Roger in a plaintive tone, her white hair making her appear senior to him although he bested her by two years. Anita had decided to go all snowy once gray hairs started to appear, so she had dyed her hair to a uniform color until her natural shade faded.

“But I did call about today, didn’t I?” Roger’s face reddened.

“Only after I left you dozens of messages. I realize your sister is visiting, but that’s no reason for you to act like I don’t exist.”