Shear Murder (14 page)

“If you're thinking of bailing out, come to me,” Kevin said. “I can get you a good price.”

“Is that what you told Jill about her piece of land?” she asked as Dalton's cell phone trilled.

“It's Mom,” Dalton told her, rolling his eyes. “She's asking if we're free yet. Meet me at the car.” He stalked off while Marla switched her attention back to the older couple.

“My cousin insists upon finding another tenant.” Kevin's forehead crinkled. “She says that's what Torrie would have wanted. I can certainly do that for her and Scott, but it may take some time. The environmental issues have to be dealt with first.”

“Isn't that the responsibility of the oil company?”

“Depends on the wording in her lease. She's working with Uncle Eddy's law firm on the termination procedures. Meanwhile, I've gotten a few nibbles on our listing. Some are crank calls but there's one fast food place and a bank who are interested.”

“It's good that she has you to help her. She's been very upset over the whole thing.”

“That's because she never had to lift a finger before,” Dana cut in with a pout. “Her grandfather started the business.”

Kevin gave his wife a quelling glance. “I've sent letters out to all the head honchos in the area,” he told Marla, peering at her as though she should be impressed. “It's what I do.”

So you're not trying to trick her into selling or trading the property?
Or was he using a different ploy, making finding a tenant so difficult that she'd decide to sell in desperation?

“I've heard Eddy's name crop up in relation to Philip Canfield.” A breeze lifted the hairs on Marla's arms. “The florist said he owns a plant nursery that Eddy helped him obtain.”

“He needed more space to cultivate his orchids.”

“So he grows his flowers there, or does he import them like most other florists?”

“You'd have to ask Canfield.”

“I understand he also supplies many of the plants for Orchid Isle.”

“I believe he and Falcon Oakwood share a passion for orchids. Falcon is one of those fanatic collectors. That's how Canfield got involved in Jill's wedding. Falcon's wife, Leanne, introduced the man to her friend, Torrie.”

“It's such a shame that Falcon's grand opening was marred by Torrie's death. It appears to have been a crime of opportunity.” From the corner of her eye, Marla spotted Dalton trudging over to a dark sedan. Detective Brody. She wondered if he had attended the funeral service. If he stood in the back, she might not have noticed him.

“Is that so?” Kevin's ears turned red. “I wonder if the investigation has turned up anything. Would you know?”

She shook her head. “Not me. Do you have any information that might be relevant? Like, who was the last person you saw Torrie with at the reception?”

“She was talking to some waitress,” Dana blurted, shooting a glance at her husband. “They were outside. I couldn't hear what they were saying but the girl seemed distraught.”

“Really?” Marla searched the crowd but didn't see Rachel anywhere. She hadn't seen the office intern at Torrie's funeral service. Had she just imagined the girl's resemblance to the waitress at Jill's wedding?

Perhaps the catering staff could shed light on the waitress's identity. She'd been wanting to revisit Orchid Isle. If she needed an excuse, she could scout out the place for her hypothetical friend.

Eddy and Alexis sauntered over. After giving them a perfunctory greeting, Marla left to rejoin Dalton, deep in conversation with the police detective.

“Any prints on the doorknob?” Dalton asked him.

Detective Brody scratched his jaw. “Nope, wiped clean. But the bugger didn't get the spot on the carpet.”

“Excuse me? What am I missing?” Marla shifted her handbag to her other shoulder. It was getting late. After their stop at the country club, she and Dalton planned to meet Kate and John to discuss the rehearsal dinner. So much to do; not enough time. Wasn't that her life story?

“Torrie's body appears to have been dragged from the corridor on the other side of the service door to under the cake table in the banquet hall,” Dalton told her. “Presumably she was killed in the hallway and then moved to avoid detection.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What was she doing back there?”

“Meeting someone? Coming from the restroom? Who knows?” Dalton turned to Brody. “What about the staff? I assume you've interviewed everyone on duty that day.”

The detective's brows folded together. “Naturally. I'm trying to locate one staff member in particular. The other people say she vanished about the time of the murder.”

“Don't tell me,” Marla said. “I'll bet it's a waitress with dark hair.”

“How did you know?” Brody replied in his baritone voice.

“Dana Rhodes just told me how she saw the waitress talking to Torrie outside, and the girl seemed upset. So you're saying she's missing?”

“The woman's name is Susan Beamer, and she was a temp hire. Trouble is, her background doesn't check out. Now I can't get a trace on her.”

“That's too bad,” Dalton said. “Keep working it, though. Something might turn up.”

“You bet. Nice seeing you folks.”

“Thanks, Detective. I'll be in touch.” Dalton shook his hand in farewell.

As she and Dalton walked back to his car, Marla clamped her lips shut. Should she share her theories with him, or wait until she had hard evidence?

It seemed absurd, but perhaps Rachel had shown up at the wedding disguised as this waitress. For what purpose? To keep tabs on her idol? Torrie had given her the job as an intern. Rachel could have become obsessed with her mentor.

Maybe they'd argued that day after the ceremony. Torrie might have been annoyed at Rachel's deception, perhaps even threatened to fire her. Had they proceeded indoors to the service corridor behind the reception hall? And then did Rachel, aka Susan, get so riled that she jabbed the cake knife into Torrie's chest?

There was one thing wrong with that idea. How did she obtain the knife from the table in the ballroom? Or had Philip lied about putting it there?

The only way to tell would be to see the wedding pictures. If she couldn't access the photos in Hally's office, she urgently needed to consult the wedding photographer. Jill had given her the name of the guy who did her event. While Marla was in his office, maybe she could sneak a peek at Jill's proofs.

She'd better hurry, because whoever bumped off Torrie might decide to cover his or her tracks even further. Griff had already been attacked. Who would be next?

Marla hit a dead end when she attempted to contact Jill's wedding photographer the next day. Surrounded in her townhouse home office by empty boxes, she hung onto the receiver.

“I'm sorry,” said the receptionist on the line, “but he's gone on vacation. You can come in and look at our albums in the meantime. Jim is booked solid through May of next year, though.”

“That's okay, this affair isn't until June. Mr. Rawls just did my friends' wedding: Jill and Arnie Hartman. I was hoping to see how their proofs came out.”

“You could stop by and view the digitals. The prints won't be ready for several weeks. Excuse me, I'm getting another call. Just drop by if you want to see samples of our work.”

“Thanks.” Marla put the receiver back on the hook and surveyed the papers piled on her desk, the screen saver twirling on her computer monitor, and the packing materials cluttering the floor.

She didn't fathom how she'd be ready to move by their closing date in January. Between the wedding and her spa's grand opening, she'd be a wreck by the end of the year. Thank goodness today was Monday. She had the day off from the salon to get things done.

She did some bookkeeping and wrote a press release about the spa opening as promised for Hally. Paying a shivah call to Jill was also on order for today.

Heading into the kitchen, she refilled Spook's water dish and made sure the poodle had an adequate supply of Science Diet Light Small Bites before letting him in from the back yard.

“Come here, precious.” Scratching Spooks behind his ears, she gave him a sausage treat and watched him run into the living room for privacy. Fortunately, he got along well with Dalton's golden retriever. Two dogs would be a handful, in addition to a teenager. If Marla's life was busy now, soon it would get a lot more hectic. She embraced the change, though. It was time.

Hoping to touch base with Brianna before the girl left for school, Marla dialed Dalton's house. “Hi, honey,” she said when the teen answered. “Do you still want me to get tickets to the
Nutcracker
ballet? If so, I'll order them online today.”

“Sure, that's cool.” Brianna sounded breathless, as though she'd rushed to answer the phone. “Are you and Spooks coming over later?”

“Yep, I've made shepherd's pie for dinner.”

“Awesome.” Brianna paused. “Dad says you need to work on the seating charts for the wedding again.”

“I know. We keep getting more RSVPs. Why do people wait until the last minute to respond?”

“Guess you didn't expect so many cousins would want to come.”

“I can't wait for them to meet you.”

“Uh, huh.” Brianna sounded less than thrilled. “By the way, I've been thinking about taking acting lessons. Will you talk to Dad for me?”

What am I, the buffer zone between you two?
“Why don't we discuss it later? You need to get going, or you'll miss your bus. Love you.”

An inner glow filled her as she shut down the computer and snatched her purse. Who'd have thought becoming a stepmother would be so gratifying? It flattered her beyond belief that Brianna sought her advice and that Dalton finally listened to her opinions about teenage girls.

The phone rang before she could escape.

“Hi,
bubula,
it's me,” said Anita. “I thought I'd catch you before you ran out. Remember, Roger and I are meeting you and your
mechutonim
for dinner Wednesday night at the Vienna Café. If you get there first, tell them we have a reservation for seven people.”

Oh, joy. Marla tried to muster some enthusiasm but failed. Ma's boyfriend Roger and Dalton's father were as unlike as a blonde and a brunette. Changing the subject, she blabbered about Brianna.

“She got an A on her math test. I'm so proud of her. That was my worst subject.”

“Protsent fun kinder iz tei'erer vi protsent fun gelt,”
Anita said in Yiddish. “Dividends from children are more precious than money. Maybe now you'll consider having kids of your own.”

“No, thank you. Brie will keep me busy enough. What time is your doctor appointment this afternoon? Do you want me to go with you?”

“Roger is driving me, thanks. We're going out for a bite to eat afterwards. Gotta go now, bye.”

Roger, Roger, Roger. That's all she heard from her mother lately. It's a good thing Anita didn't bring him along on their excursions with Kate, or she'd
plotz.

Well, okay, maybe she wouldn't have a fit, but she'd certainly complain.

Never mind that now. What could she bring as a gift to Jill and Arnie? People usually brought food, but Arnie owned a restaurant and had supplied platters from his deli, including dessert. Cold cuts could get tiring after a while, though. She'd like to bring something nutritious that their kids could enjoy. How about a lasagna dish for variety?

She picked up a prepared casserole at Doris's Market and headed over to Arnie's modest ranch-style home in nearby Sunrise. Several cars blocked the driveway, so she had to park along the grassy swale. Having hoped for a private conversation with the bereaved couple, she swallowed her disappointment. She wouldn't be able to discuss Torrie's case with strangers present.

Arnie greeted Marla at the door. His mustache tickled her cheek as he gave her a bear hug inside the foyer.

“Where's Dalton?” Arnie glanced at the driveway.

“He's working, so I came alone.” She handed Arnie the covered foil pan. “Here, can you give this to Jill, please?”

“She'll join us in a minute. She's in the kitchen talking to Kevin about her property. Go on and make yourself at home.”

Marla glanced at the dining table laden with bagels and lox, Swiss cheese slices, tomatoes and onions,
rugelach,
and other goodies. Tempted to make herself a sandwich, she took a seat in the living room instead. She always felt odd about eating during condolence calls. How could people stuff themselves when their hosts were experiencing such pain?

“It's nice of you to stay home to support Jill instead of going in to work,” Marla told Arnie when he returned.

His face weary, he dropped onto the sofa. “Yeah, well, it's the least I can do. Funny how we'd postponed our honeymoon and now we have to take time off from work anyway.”

“You'll enjoy your New Year's . . . cruise. I'm just so sorry that this had to spoil your wedding.”

“Most of it was over by the time . . . you know. Jill is taking it pretty hard. She and her sister had been estranged for so long, and then they had just started getting back together, thanks to their inheritance.”

Marla crossed her legs. “Do you know what came between them initially? I visited Scott, but he mostly rambled on about his clocks. He's obsessed with his timepieces, isn't he? He gave me the impression that Torrie didn't like his occupation. She'd rather he stayed in the insurance business.”

“I wouldn't know about that. We haven't had much contact.”

“Now that Torrie's gone, I suppose you won't see much of him in the future.”

“My wife will have to communicate with Scott because of their co-ownership. She's doing all the work, while he sits back and tinkers with his toys. I can't tell you how many hours she's spent looking through her grandfather's papers for the original lease and all its amendments, the easements granted, the survey, insurance certificates, and more.”

“She would've had to deal with this anyway. It's just coming at a bad time, and Torrie isn't here to help her.” Marla leaned forward. “She can always call on me. You know that I'm here for you if you need anything.”

He gave her a warm smile. “You're a good friend. I'm glad you and Jill get along so well.”