11 Hanging by a Hair (18 page)

Outside, the temperature had risen to the low seventies and the air was scented with the tang of the sea as they strode along the wide concrete strip bordering the beach. Roller skaters and joggers stuck to their designated lane while people of all ages walked the miles-long trail. One café after another sported customers wolfing down breakfast. Marla’s mouth watered as she sniffed the aromas of bacon and coffee. In the near distance, the sun rose at the eastern horizon, casting jeweled sparkles on the water. Peace settled over her soul. While walking here, one could forget about daily concerns.

And that’s precisely why she’d suggested they take a walk there today. Dalton could relax, and maybe he’d be more forthcoming about the case. She couldn’t turn off her curiosity if she tried.

She brought him up to date on her attempts to find a replacement for Luis, making him laugh with her descriptions of the applicants. Then she segued the conversation toward her discussion with Susan.

“Did you ever speak to Ron Cloakman?” she asked.

“Very briefly.” Dalton maintained a brisk pace.

“Where is his office located?” Marla dodged an older couple with a slow gait. She glanced to their left. A yoga class was performing stretches on the beach.

“He’s in Miami at Brickell. His company owns multiple real estate holdings.”

“Why did he stop by the garage sale? Was it specifically to speak to Cherry?”

“I’ll find out on Monday. I’m planning to drive down there to talk to him.”

Marla turned her brightest smile on him. “Can I go? I have the day off, and a nice drive would take my mind off things. We could do lunch after you finish your interview.”

Well aware of her methods, Dalton gave her a searing glance through his sunglasses. “Kat is going with me. I don’t think she’d appreciate having a civilian tag along.”

“How about Herb Poltice? Have you spoken to him since Cherry’s death?”

Dalton nodded, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. “Kat and I touched base with him. He didn’t have much to add to what we already know. We’re thinking of bringing him in for questioning.”

“Have you found out where he works? I’d never heard of his tribe before.” She knew of the Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood and the Miccosukee place on Sample Road. Those were the two main ones in Broward County.

They passed the concert shell on the left where people could come for open-air entertainment. Colorful art deco buildings bordered the walkway on their right. She cast an envious glance at a woman and young girl sitting outside on their own patio eating croissants. This beach was popular with French-speaking Canadian snowbirds who bought seaside condos.

“The Immowakee tribe has a smaller casino further west on Sample,” Dalton replied, fast-walking past a slower fellow in Bermuda shorts and his bejeweled wife.

Marla broadened her stride to match his pace. “Oh? I’ve never heard of one out there. Why don’t we swing by this afternoon?”

“It’s Sunday. He isn’t likely to be there.”

“Isn’t the casino open twenty-four hours? He might have a shift today. And if not, you can ask around where to find him.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll follow up with Minnetti. You should concentrate on your salon problems and not on my business.”

Marla tightened her lips.
Like that’s stopped me before.
“Sure, honey. You’re absolutely right. I have enough to keep me busy.”

Knowing he’d be occupied in Miami the next day prompted her to call her friend Tally later that afternoon. Marla sat in the study with the door closed. Dalton was watching TV, and Brianna was on the landline in her bedroom. Marla intended to track down Herb Poltice and wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend along for the ride.

“Hi, Marla. I’ve been meaning to call you.” Tally’s voice sounded exuberant.

“Really? I’m wondering if you want to meet me for lunch tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at your store, if you can get away from work for a few hours.”

“A few hours? Where did you want to go?”

“I’d like to drive to an Indian casino. I’m hoping to talk to the guy who staged the protest at our garage sale.” She filled Tally in on recent developments.

“Holy smokes, Marla, you don’t quit, do you?”

“It would help Dalton if I can find out more information. I feel awful about Cherry. That man might know something important.”

“That’s why you should let the detectives do their job. Anyway, I can’t get away for that long. If you’d like to go somewhere local, I can meet you.”

“It’s the only time I have free, sorry.” Marla hesitated. “Speaking of work, I’m having shortages of inventory. I told Luis to have surveillance cameras installed. Do you have them in your shop?”

“Not yet, although it’s a good idea. With the prices today, I’m not surprised that some people pilfer things. Do you have any idea who might be involved?”

“There’s one employee who’s always giving me problems, but I’m not sure she’s guilty. I don’t want to make assumptions. On top of this issue, Luis is leaving. I’ve been interviewing candidates for a replacement. It’s hard to find someone qualified to run our computer programs and who would be happy as a receptionist.”

“No kidding. I’ll keep my ears open in case I hear of anyone looking for a job.”

“Enough about my problems. What’s new with you? Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, sure. Ken and I have been checking out baby supplies. You wouldn’t believe the cost of strollers! A good one costs, like, over three hundred dollars.”

“No way.”

“One baby store sells cribs that convert into twin beds and changing tables that turn into full-size dressers. They’re made from good-quality wood and are expensive. I don’t want to spend that much! We’d rather get standard baby furniture and then buy a bedroom set later when Luke is old enough.”

“Luke? You know you’re having a son?” Marla’s voice rose. This was noteworthy news.

“We found out on the ultrasound. Ken couldn’t stand to wait, although I wouldn’t have minded being surprised. This is what I meant to discuss with you. I wouldn’t ask it of anyone else, but we’ve been close friends for so long. Will you give me a baby shower?”

Her jaw dropped. “Why, uh, I’d be honored.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you with the plans.”

Marla’s thoughts collided, and she said the first thing that came to mind. “You’ll register for gifts, right, in case people ask me what to get?”

“Of course. I’ll pay for it, Marla, since this was my idea. It just doesn’t look right for me to hold a shower for myself.”

“Don’t be silly. I should have thought of it first.” Her face heated. If she hadn’t been so caught up in sleuthing, she might have been more thoughtful. “Give me some potential dates, and I’ll get to work on the arrangements.”

“Super. I’m sorry I can’t go with you tomorrow. Let me know what happens, and good luck on finding a replacement for Luis. He’s a peach.”

Marla gave up on her plan to visit Herb at his casino, deciding she should let Dalton and his partner do their job, until her mother called. Ten minutes later, she hung up with a smug smile on her face. Anita had asked Marla to accompany her to the Festival Flea Market on Monday. Marla agreed, if Anita would visit the nearby casino with her beforehand. Marla’s mother hadn’t needed any convincing to hit the slot machines.

“I wonder what kind of games they have,” her mother said in the car on their northbound journey. “I’ve been to the Hard Rock in Hollywood but never to this place.”

Marla kept to her lane on the turnpike. At eleven o’clock on Monday morning, traffic had thinned. “Those machines are beyond me. They’re way too confusing.”

She’d been to a Seminole casino once, and the flashing lights and general din in the slot machine section had thrown her into sensory overload. She couldn’t spare the time to learn the games, including the Florida lottery, nor did she care to waste her hard-earned cash. She’d rather go shopping and have something to show for the expense.

She turned into a wide driveway lined with stately royal palms. At the far end rose a palatial white structure with garish neon signs. Locating the self-parking lot, Marla drove around until she found an empty space. It was crowded for a weekday, but tourists probably came here.

She slung her purse strap over one shoulder and exited the car. Warm air drifted her way, along with the aroma of barbecued meat. Her mouth watered. They’d eat lunch after Marla spoke to Herb Poltice, and then they would head over to the indoor flea market.

A bewildering array of slot machines faced them as they entered the spacious carpeted lobby. Anita wandered off to try her luck while Marla looked for an official to query. Displays of Native American artifacts stood about in glass cases or hung on the walls, properly labeled for the curious viewer. Marla strode past a painting of the Everglades on her way to the cashier. Maybe she could get the info she needed over there. Otherwise, she could always ask the bartender. A bustling bar nestled in the center was trimmed in gleaming brass and rich mahogany. It wasn’t too early for the drinkers who sat on cushioned stools.

“Excuse me,” she said to the woman behind the cashier’s window. “I’m looking for Herb Poltice. He’s a tribal shaman, and I’ve been told he works out of this location.”

“Sorry, I’m with the casino staff, honey. You must be looking for administration.”

“Are their offices elsewhere?”

“I really don’t know. You might ask Tom Fairweather. He’s head of security.”

“Okay, thanks.” Marla searched for someone in authority. For all she knew, these employees might have nothing to do with the Immowakee tribe.

After several more inquiries, she finally located the security chief. He was speaking to a uniformed guard in the doorway to a high-stakes game room.

“Oh, sure,” he said upon her introduction. “Herb’s office is upstairs. I’ll take you there. Is he expecting you?” The man gave her a scrutinizing glance.

“Not exactly. I wasn’t sure where to find him, but I need to discuss an important issue with him. We’ve met before at Royal Oaks.”

“Why don’t you wait here then, and I’ll see if he’s available.”

“Tell him it’s about Cherry Hunter.” Marla paced the carpet, hoping her mother was occupying herself. She scanned the patrons at the slot machines but didn’t see Anita’s head of short white hair.

Her heart thumped in nervous anticipation. Would Herb be present and agree to see her?

Cherry’s visage floated into her mind. Marla couldn’t believe she was dead. What motive could someone have had to kill her? Was her death related to Alan Krabber’s?

Her speculation was cut short when the security man hurried up to her, a look of approval in his eyes. “Herb will see you now, miss. This way, please.”

Marla glanced around in awe as she followed the guy through a private door, up a flight of stairs and down a carpeted hallway. Glimpses of offices showed luxurious furnishings, comparable to those downstairs. Undoubtedly, the casino did quite well in terms of income if the elegant administrative wing was any indication.

Herb’s sumptuous corner made her gulp in surprise. She hadn’t expected a shaman to inhabit such plush surroundings, not when his practice relied on herbal medicine and the spirits to guide him. But what did she know about modern medicine men and their culture?

“Mrs. Vail, isn’t it?” He came around the side of his desk to shake her hand.

“Yes, that’s right. Thank you for meeting with me.”

The security man left them alone, closing the door in his wake. Marla sat opposite Herb’s wide mahogany desk, where tiger figurines were placed in various poses. Was that animal his spirit guide? Feathery ornaments decorated the walls along with paintings depicting nature scenes of cypress swamps and long-necked birds.

Seated at his desk, Herb picked up a black ballpoint pen and twirled it in his fingers. His dark eyes examined her from under his thick brows, while she studied the craggy lines creasing his face. He wore an aura of wisdom like a snakeskin—confidence combined with a certain cunning. She wondered how he saw patients if his office was here. Did he make house calls? Where did his people live?

He hunched his wide shoulders, encased in a loose-fitting shirt appropriate to the tropical climate. Putting the pen down, he folded his hands on the desk.

“So what brings you here, Mrs. Vail?”

Marla crossed her legs. “I presume you heard about Cherry?” She kept her tone noncommittal, watching for his reaction.

His eyes hardened. “Yes, I’ve spoken to the police.”

“We were friends, and I’m trying to figure out who might have wanted to harm her. You seemed to have had an intimate discussion with her at our garage sale.”

“That’s right. She knew about the sacrilege and should have stopped it.”

“You mentioned bones. Did she discover an ancestral burial site? I imagine that would be a boon to her career as a history professor.” By pretending to know something about Cherry’s affairs, Marla might get him to reveal significant information.

“So she hoped. He told her to keep quiet about it, but she couldn’t help boasting about her claim to me. She should have known I’d urge her to do the right thing.”

“
He
told her to keep quiet? Who do you mean?”

“Alan Krabber, of course. He’s the one who asked Cherry to authenticate the find. When she agreed, he demanded her silence in return for promising that she could take credit for the discovery. At least he halted construction.”

Marla’s mind whirled. “So Alan
did
discover bones in his backyard when workers were digging a hole for his propane tank?”

“I thought you knew that.” He assessed her with a suspicious gaze.

“I wasn’t sure if he’d made the discovery or if it had been his workmen.” She moistened her lips, uneasy under his scrutiny. “Both Cherry and Alan skirted regulations. They should have notified local law enforcement about the find. Why didn’t you?”

“I’d hoped to convince Cherry to come forward, but she wanted me to be the one to rat on Alan.”

“Why was that?”

“If you were truly her friend, you would know.” Herb swept a hand over his wide forehead. He wore his longish black hair brushed off his face and tied into a low ponytail.