11 Hanging by a Hair (16 page)

“Heck, no. This started with her friend, the president. He should have reported his find to the authorities right away and not to you.” Herb pointed an accusatory finger at Cherry.

Cherry stiffened. “He needed me to confirm his discovery. Herb, we’ve discussed this before.” A pained look crept over her face.

“And see what happened? The spirits took their revenge on the man.”

Marla leaned forward. While she wanted to learn more, she had to disband this group and get back to work. “If you’re talking about Alan Krabber, my husband says the case is a homicide.”

The man gazed at her with astonishment, but then his eyes narrowed. “Either way, he paid the price for his indiscretion. So will you,” he told Cherry. “Nobody can disrupt the bones of our ancestors and not suffer the consequences. You should do the right thing and come clean.”

“I need more time for my research.”

“The longer you delay, the angrier the spirits will become. They’ll take their revenge again, mark my words.”

“Maybe I can help,” Marla said. “Tell me your demands, and I’ll relate them to my husband. He can see that the message gets to the proper person.”

His glance scorched her. “We only learned of this site fairly recently. It hadn’t been recorded in our annals. We must respect the dead and call a halt to any further building.”

“Alan Krabber is with the spirits now. Why don’t you ask him to intercede?” Cherry snapped. A vein pulsed in her neck, and her eyes blazed. She looked about to have a stroke.

“Make your choice, Cherry. You’re either with us or against us. But be warned that the law is clear on the subject.”

“Herb is the tribal shaman,” Cherry said to Marla with a disdainful lift of her nose. “He considers it his job to commune with dead people. But he doesn’t do it to bring harmony to nature. He does it for his own stature in the tribe.”

Marla’s gaze darted about in desperation. How did she get to be a buffer in this conversation? She needed help here. These people weren’t going to budge.

The drums rose in crescendo. She glanced beyond the drumming circle toward the street and groaned. A local TV news crew had pulled up in a van, and a cameraman and a nattily dressed lady reporter spilled out. With eager expressions on their faces, they headed straight at her.

After the demonstration by the Native Americans, the arrival of the news crew, and the frenzy of the garage sale, Marla wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and relax. But Dalton was preparing dinner, and she couldn’t wait to talk to him.

She did spare the time to shower and change into comfy drawstring pants and a pullover sweater before entering the kitchen.

“Where’s Brie?” She sniffed garlic and spices. A big soup pot sat on the electric range along with a covered saucepan. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten much all day and wouldn’t mind an early dinner.

“She’s over at Kim’s house. I told her I’d pick her up at five.”

Marla glanced at the wall clock. They had twenty minutes to spare.

“What are you cooking? It smells divine.”

Dalton, standing by the sink, chopped up a red bell pepper for a salad. “Spaghetti and meatballs. I didn’t feel like making the meatballs from scratch, so I used the ones from the freezer. The sauce is done. I put them in there to cook.”

Marla gave him an affectionate smile. She thought he never looked sexier than when he worked in the kitchen with an apron tied around his waist. “Dalton, those turkey meatballs are already cooked. You could have heated them in the microwave.”

He shot her a wry glance. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“Why didn’t you ask? Anyway, you can probably turn off the burner for now.” Bone tired, she sat on a chair at their round table in the breakfast nook. “You won’t believe what happened at the garage sale after you left.”

“Oh, yeah?” He tossed the diced red pepper into the salad bowl, then picked up a cucumber to peel. “Did you make a lot of money for the HOA? How much stuff was left over?”

“Cherry is still tabulating the results, but we did quite well. The turnout was great, especially when we hit the local news station.”

That caught his attention. He whirled toward her, the cucumber upright in his hand.

“What? I didn’t see anything on TV, but I was watching sports all afternoon.”

She told him about the drumming circle and Herb Poltice’s claims and his dialogue with Cherry Hunter.

“This puts a new spin on things,” Dalton said with a thoughtful frown. Turning back to the sink, he carefully sliced the vegetable on a bamboo cutting board.

“It certainly does. What if Krabber’s construction crew dug up more than dirt in his backyard?”

“How so?” The cucumber got added to the salad. Dalton couldn’t put onions in; Brie wouldn’t eat them, so he picked up a carrot.

“Herb mentioned bones. What if Alan halted the work detail, not because he was waiting for delivery of a propane tank, but because of what he discovered in that pit?”

Dalton’s knife poised in midair. “You mean, he found human remains?”

“That’s right—the ancient type, like you’d see in a natural history museum.” Fired by the idea, she leapt to her feet. “I’m going to look this up on the computer. You can get Brie. I’ll put the spaghetti on to boil while you’re out.”

“Okay, but we’re not done talking about this.” Dalton paused, looking adorable with a lock of hair falling across his forehead. “Do you want wine tonight? I’ve picked out a bottle of pinot noir.”

“That would be great. I can use it after everything that’s happened.” She gave him a sly glance. “By the way, how are things going with Detective Minnetti?”

“She’s handling the case. I’m not going to offer my advice unless she asks.”

“But if we uncover new information, you’ll tell her, right?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “If I don’t, I’m sure you will.”

Oh, so this was how he meant to play it. The fox hoped to scoop Kat on the killer. It wasn’t the lady detective’s fault she’d landed the case. The chief had made that decision.

Marla let the matter go and headed for their home office. It took a few searches until she discovered the Florida Department of State had a division called Historical Resources.

Florida had once been home to generations of Native Americans. Many tribal names had been lost to time, but most of the people followed specific burial practices. Unmarked human remains often originated from the era before European contact, more than five hundred years ago. These were usually found in burial mounds or prehistoric shell middens. Florida cemetery law had been revised to include these mounds or any monuments containing associated artifacts. Remains less than seventy-five years old fell under the jurisdiction of the Medical Examiner.

“Listen to this,” she said to Brianna and Dalton as they sat eating at the kitchen table, forty minutes later. She’d brought the teen up to speed on her findings. “If anybody uncovers human skeletal remains while excavating, they have to halt operations, secure the site, and notify local law enforcement. If they fail to report their find, they face a second-degree misdemeanor.”

Dalton sucked a string of spaghetti into his mouth. “So you think Krabber’s construction crew dug up some bones, and he told them to stop working?”

“Either that, or the workmen said they’d have to report the find before they could continue.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened. The authorities would have been scouring his backyard by now. It’s possible Krabber discovered the bones himself and told the crew to wait until the propane tank was delivered.”

“How would he know the remains were human, unless he’d found a skull? It could have been a small animal.” Marla felt her eyes widen. “Hey, I get it. He wanted verification, and so he took a sample of his discovery to the one person he knew who might be able to provide validation—Cherry Hunter.”

Brie waved her fork in the air. “She’s a history professor, right?”

“At the university.” Marla took a sip of dry red wine. “And Cherry specializes in Native American culture. She could have had someone in their labs test the sample.”

“So why wouldn’t she report it to the authorities?” Brie asked with a thoughtful frown. She stabbed a meatball and bit into it.

“Likely Alan told Cherry to bring her results to him, and he’d notify the proper people. They would send out a law officer, a Medical Examiner, and an archaeologist from the Florida Division of Historical Resources. This team would investigate the site to determine a course of action. That’s what happens in cases like this. But Cherry went to the tribal shaman instead and spilled the beans.”

“Why?” Dalton’s single word punctuated the air.

“Maybe Alan had offended her somehow, and she wanted to go behind his back.”

“How did he know her in the first place? Had they met as neighbors?” Brie asked. “Or did they have something going on between them?”

“Brianna, you’re not supposed to know about such things!” Dalton gave her a disapproving glare. His statement lost its impact when tomato sauce dribbled down his chin. He dabbed at it with a napkin.

“Don’t be a dork, Dad. I know everything. I’m old enough to drive.”

“You wish. Anyway, Cherry and Alan were both on the HOA Board.”

Marla picked up the thread. “It would have been logical for him to consult her. Cherry must have told Herb about the bones and the results of her preliminary tests. Obviously, the tribal shaman felt she wasn’t doing enough, and so he brought his protest to the community to arouse public awareness.”

“Did Cherry tell him out of loyalty to the tribe? You said she had Indian blood in her veins.” Although addressing Marla, Brie cast a sullen look at her father.

“Could be. Or maybe Cherry wanted to claim credit for the discovery herself.” Marla chewed a morsel and swallowed. “Think what a boost it would give her at work. She might even get promoted up the ladder.”

“Krabber may have promised her the credit if she kept her mouth shut initially.” Dalton speared his last meatball and stuck the whole piece in his mouth.

“But then why would she tell Herb? His little demo rained on her parade.”

“There’s only one option, Marla.” Brie’s eyes sparked. “You’ll have to talk to Herb yourself and see what he knows.”

“No way,” Dalton said in a firm tone. “I’ll pass this info along to Kat. It’s her job to check out new leads.”

Yeah, right. My bet is that you get to the guy first.

The next day at work, Marla discussed events with Nicole when they had a lag between clients. She’d cleaned off her chair and counter and stood holding a coffee mug while blow dryers whirred in the background, customers chatted, and water splashed in the shampoo sink. Marla inhaled the hairspray-scented air, enjoying this bustling atmosphere so much more than the garage sale frenzy.

Thank goodness that was over.

“And then the news crew came,” she concluded. “It was chaos, but I’ll have to say one thing. Sales were great. Cherry couldn’t give us a final number yet, but she believes we made a decent profit.”

Nicole gave her an indulgent smile. “Now maybe you can relax. I still don’t see how you got roped into chairing that thing.”

“Oh, you know the saying. Trouble follows me.”

“So you think this Herb fellow can clue you in as to what Alan Krabber had discovered in his backyard?”

Marla drained the last of her coffee and put the mug down. “I do, but I don’t want to tip Cherry off that I’m speaking to him. How do I find the guy?”

“You said he’s a shaman, right? It can’t be too hard to look up tribes in the area. If that fails, go visit the casinos. I’d expect he’s in the area. It’ll just cost you some legwork.”

“Like I have the extra time.”

“Did the nephew ever hold a memorial service for Krabber?”

“He had the body cremated, and since there weren’t any other close relatives, he kept it private.”

“Poor man,” Nicole said, meaning the victim. “It must be sad to be so alone in your later years.”

“Hey, did I tell you our other theory that he might have had a kid?”

Nicole’s eyes rounded. “I thought Krabber never married?”

Marla told her about the fiancée. “How could I trace the girl, assuming she’s still alive? I mentioned her to Lieutenant Minnetti and suggested that she examine school yearbooks or interview Krabber’s old classmates, but I don’t know if she followed through or not.”

“Krabber might have kept his beloved’s correspondence. Ask the nephew if he’s come across anything. Once you have her maiden name, you can try looking her up on Facebook.”

“Good idea. I’ll have to watch for Philip’s car next door.”

“And you’re doing this, why?” Nicole waved to her client who’d just walked in the door.

“To solve the case so Dalton can be put back on his team. I can tell he still resents Minnetti taking over his turf.”

“They’ll have to learn to get along.”

“True, but it won’t be easy for either of them.”

Marla’s next customer arrived, and her thoughts fled as she focused on work-related issues. That afternoon, she finally found time to count inventory. Back in the storeroom, she narrowed her eyes. Something didn’t tabulate. Were they missing supplies that had been delivered last week?

She summoned Luis. It took him a good fifteen minutes to walk the gauntlet of customers, flirting with them along his way. He charmed the ladies with his dazzling smile, sexy innuendos, and suggestive body moves. Some of them came to the salon solely to snag the hot Latino’s attention. So far, he preferred to play the field and remain unattached.

Facing Marla in the storeroom, he sobered quickly as she related her suspicions.

“I think you’re right,” he said after confirming her count. He stroked his trim beard. “Maybe we should install a security camera back here. Whoever is guilty will be hard to catch otherwise. She must be taking small items to fit into a purse.”

Marla thought of the one stylist who had the largest bag, and her stomach pitted. That would be Dara, who always carried an enormous tote that would qualify as a piece of luggage. The stylist had made more of an effort to be on time lately, but she still mouthed off to the other girls. Marla would need evidence before confronting her, however.