Shear Murder (15 page)

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Authors: Nancy J. Cohen

BOOK: Shear Murder
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“We've come a long way, baby.” Marla laughed, remembering how she and Jill had first met. Friendship had been the farthest thing from her mind. Her only thought was to protect Arnie from the woman who claimed to be his former classmate. Jill had pretended to be Hortense Crone in order to collect information regarding a murder victim. She'd done a good job but hadn't counted on falling for Arnie in the process.

“I should ask Jill about her acting career,” she said. “Brianna wants to take lessons.”

“Jill has given up going to auditions. She doesn't have time anymore, between her job at Stockhart Industries and the kids. She's so good to them.”

“I'm happy for you, Arnie.”

His gaze held hers with unsaid words. There had been a time when he had courted Marla, but she hadn't wanted to be burdened with children. Besides, while she loved Arnie as a friend, he'd never lit her fire. Her body sung to Dalton's song, and she missed him even now.

“Can I get you some coffee?” Arnie glanced at the laden buffet. “Or would you like something to eat? Jill should be out momentarily.”

“No, thanks, I'm okay.” She folded her hands. “Have you spoken to Detective Brody lately? I wonder how his investigation is going.”

She also wondered if he'd shared his findings with them about Torrie being killed in the corridor behind the banquet hall. Had the culprit slipped into the reception and mingled among the guests, or had he run outside through the exterior door? In that case, the police should have dusted
all
the doorknobs for prints.

Arnie stroked his mustache. “We hear they're looking for some waitress who disappeared. Jill has been acting funny since she heard about it. Actually, she's been upset since we got that bouquet.” He pointed to a flower basket on the sideboard.

“Who's it from?”

“Someone named Rachel.”

Marla sat up straighter. “What did the card say?”

“‘You're in my thoughts. From, Rachel.’ I don't recall Jill knowing anyone by that name.”

Should she tell him about the intern at Torrie's office? The girl hadn't been present at the funeral. Why not, when so many of Torrie's pals were there? Had she been afraid the police detective would attend, or was there another reason why she didn't want to show her face?

“Why would Jill be disturbed by the note unless she knew the sender?”


Ver vaist?
Who knows?”

“Does she talk much about her life when she lived in Vero Beach?”

“Actually, it was Hortense who lived in Vero Beach. Jill came from Orlando.”

“But she grew up in Miami. So how did she end up in Orlando working in public relations?”

“What does it matter?” He jumped to his feet. “I'll see what's keeping her. It isn't polite to keep a guest waiting.”

Oh, now I'm a guest instead of a friend? What's the matter, Arnie? Have I touched upon a sore subject, or do you not know as much about your bride as you should?
She rose and stretched.

Jill greeted Marla with an effusive hug, while Kevin gave her a curt nod. He held a stuffed manila envelope in his hand.

“You'd better make sure that Scott understands how much it's going to cost you,” Kevin advised Jill. “You could be paying up to fifty thousand dollars in attorney fees by the time you're done, and that doesn't include the commission I could be charging.”

Jill's eyes glazed as she pushed a limp strand of hair off her face. “We're very grateful to you, Kevin. I'll talk to Scott about setting up a joint bank account. We'll have to wait until he has access to Torrie's funds. Keep in mind that neither one of us has received the final payment from the oil company. That'll help pay the lawyer bills.” She led Kevin to the exit.

“Let me know as soon as you get the official termination letter from the oil lube people.” He tugged his tie into place. “I've called, but the yahoo in the Florida office says it takes a while for the paperwork to go through National. They're such a big bureaucracy that they don't care about little folks like us.”

“They're holding everything up. What if somebody trips and falls on the property in the meantime? What if we have to pay property taxes while we're waiting for them to accept their responsibility? The longer the delay, the longer we have to wait for a new tenant to take over.”

Kevin patted her shoulder. “Don't worry, I've dealt with dozens of similar situations before. It'll happen.”

“I hope you're right.” Jill watched him leave and then shut the door. “This is making me sick. Marla, do you have as much aggravation from your rental property?”

“Sometimes, but it's worth the effort in the long run. You could never invest the money from a sale and make the same income.”

“So what?” Arnie jabbed his forefinger at them. “Look at all the trouble it's causing. I say you should sell and be done with it.”

“Torrie didn't want to sell, and neither do I.” Jill sniffled. “We've talked about this. Josh and Lisa could benefit from my inheritance, especially if we enroll them in private school when they're older. That'll cost us over ten thousand dollars per year for each child. I could use your encouragement, Arnie. Instead, you sound like Uncle Eddy.”

“His firm will make plenty of money whatever you and Scott decide. Maybe you should have retained independent counsel.”

“Eddy is giving us a discount.”

“You call five percent a discount? Big deal, when he charges three hundred sixty dollars an hour.”

“I can't talk to you. You won't listen.”

Marla heard voices chattering from the patio. “Is someone else here?” She'd seen more cars than Kevin's.

“A couple of my cousins and a lady from the foster care system where Torrie volunteered her time,” Jill said.

“Interesting. Scott didn't mention Torrie's volunteer work to me when we spoke. His disapproval of Griff Beasley came through loud and clear, though.” Marla tilted her head. “That reminds me, when you get your proofs, could you let me know? I'd love to see them. I might get some ideas I can pass on to our wedding photographer.”

“The prints won't be ready for a few weeks.” Jill's statement confirmed what the photographer's receptionist had told Marla.

The other visitors chose that moment to join them in the living room. After a round of introductions, the gray-haired lady addressed the group.

“I don't know who we'll get to take Torrie's place. She was very devoted to her role as a court-appointed guardian in our foster care program. We need more people like her.”

“What prompted her to get involved?” Marla asked. Understanding the victim's motives could lead to the killer. You never knew which action might trigger an explosion of bottled-up rage in an acquaintance.

“I'm not sure, actually,” the woman said. “She just wanted to do something for the children, maybe because she had none of her own.”

“Are you kidding?” Jill planted her hands on her hips. “That may have been her initial reason, but guilt became her main motivator.”

“Guilt over what? I thought you and Torrie didn't share confidences,” Marla pointed out with a meaningful glare.

Jill's face blanched, and she glanced away.

“Can I get you anything to eat?” Arnie inserted quickly. Serving people food seemed to be his coping mechanism.

“Not me, thanks. Again, please accept my condolences for your loss. I have to go,” the lady said.

“So do we,” chimed in the cousins.

The guests made their farewells, leaving Marla alone with her hosts in the living room.

“So how are your wedding plans going?” Jill asked, after Arnie excused himself to make a phone call. Feeling awkward, Marla perched on the edge of the sofa.

“Oh, gosh, we still have a million things to do.” Marla described their progress and what remained on her to-do list.

“You'll be relieved when it's all over,” Jill reassured her with a wan smile.

“Not really. Then I have the grand opening of my new spa, followed by our move in January. I won't be able to relax until well into spring.”

“Aren't you taking any time off for a honeymoon?”

She shrugged. “We've talked about it. Ma offered to watch Brianna if we want to go away, but we haven't made any plans.”

“I hope we're still able to go on our cruise.”

“Maybe the case will be solved by then.” Marla hesitated. “Torrie's funeral service was lovely. It was similar to a Jewish funeral. There aren't that many differences between the traditions.” Except when the person was cremated instead of buried. She didn't say that aloud.

“Yes, I was surprised Scott had so many good things to say about my sister.” Wringing her hands, Jill studied the floor.

“I think he truly loved her.”

Jill's gaze flew to meet Marla's assessing glance. “Then why was she unhappy? Torrie didn't talk about Scott with any fondness. She always seemed to put him down.”

“He told me she'd have preferred for him to stay in the insurance business. It's my guess he makes less money with his clock shop than he did in his prior job.”

“Money may have been an issue. Or it could be that Scott regarded his timepieces with more affection than his wife.”

Marla tilted her head. “Do you believe Torrie turned elsewhere for attention?”

“Why would you think that?” Jill narrowed her eyes. “Or do you know something I don't?”

I could ask you the same question, pal.

“Hally Leeds was jealous of Torrie. I spoke to the reporter after your wedding, and Hally made it clear she has the hots for Griff Beasley, their freelance photographer. I overheard Torrie and Griff arguing at Orchid Isle. It can't help but make me wonder if they had a thing together.”

“Weren't Torrie and Hally both contenders for a promotion? That's plenty of reason for rivalry.”

“True, but what if Scott thought his wife was carrying on with Griff? Do you think it would make him mad enough to kill her?”

“I'm sure the police are considering that angle.” Jill's fingers plucked at the upholstery.

“Someone murdered your sister.” Her tone hardened. “Haven't you considered who might have done the deed? Or that you might be in danger? What if it's related to this property you both owned?”

“That's absurd.”

“Scott has Torrie's share now. That gives him even more reason to do her in, especially if he's hurting for money.”

“I may not be fond of Scott, but he's too meek to commit an act of violence.”

“Clark Kent hid behind his mild-mannered exterior, too.”

“Come on, what proof do you have?”

“Then again, maybe Hally did it to secure her promotion.” Marla hoped to provoke Jill into revealing her secrets. She could help with damage control before the police took interest.

“You're forgetting about Leanne.” Jill bent her head, strands of blond hair shielding her face.

“Excuse me?”

“Leanne Oakwood, Torrie's friend.” Jill gave her an oblique glance. “Torrie once mentioned how she knew things about the Oakwoods that they wouldn't want to get around.”

“Funny you should say so. When I spoke to Hally, she said your sister kept files on people. I imagine the cops checked her computer, but not before Hally copied the data.”

Jill paled. “What kind of files? Did she have personal stuff in there?”

“Why are you so alarmed? Afraid Torrie took notes on you?” Marla chuckled as though that were a joke, but she studied Jill's reaction.

Jill shot to her feet. “She might have written down things only my family knows, things they promised never to speak of again. Not that Torrie ever let me forget.” Her eye shone with venom. “At least now she can't haunt me with my past mistakes.”

“What does that mean?” Marla's pulse rate spiked. Maybe now she'd get some answers.

She never got a reply. Arnie strode into the room, holding the telephone receiver. “It's for you,” he told Marla, his tone grim.

Marla jumped up and snatched the instrument. Who would be calling her here? “Hello?”

“I dialed your cell phone,” Dalton's deep voice said, “but you didn't answer.”

Marla regarded her purse on the floor by the armchair. “It's in my handbag. I didn't hear it ring, sorry. What's wrong?”

“Bad news. Hally Leeds is dead. Strangled.”

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Marla drove south on I-95, pondering the news she'd received a mere fifteen minutes ago. She'd blurted the reason for her abrupt departure to Arnie and Jill before storming out the door. She had a long drive ahead and wanted to accomplish her mission so she could proceed with her errands for the day.

Leanne Oakwood had vital information. Marla must talk to the socialite before the police got to her.

A colleague had found Hally's body that morning in the company parking lot, where it appeared she'd been accosted late last night. Marla could think of a number of people who might hold a grudge against the woman.

Gripping the steering wheel, she counted them on her mental list. First there was Rachel, who didn't like that Hally was usurping Torrie's place in terms of a promotion. Or maybe Hally had found out what Torrie and Rachel had been discussing so heatedly at the wedding, if Rachel was indeed the waitress in disguise.

Torrie had known something about Griff Beasley that he didn't want to get out. If Hally knew about it, he could have done her in. But then, who would have bopped him on the head at the Venetian Pool unless he had cracked his own noggin for show? That didn't make any sense, because he'd expected to meet Marla at the Biltmore.

Hally had hinted that the Oakwoods had something to hide. Hence Marla's visit to Leanne, who'd asked her to drop by anyway. Leanne might be able to give her the heads up on Philip Canfield, since she'd recommended the florist for Jill's wedding. Marla also wanted to learn more about Orchid Isle and Falcon's relationship to Eddy Rhodes.

The scenery in Miami passed by in a blur as she sped down the highway toward Coconut Grove. I-95 segued into Route 1 at Biscayne Bay. She followed the signs past Vizcaya and the Museum of Science, taking a winding back road and admiring the overhanging foliage. Tropical trees and hibiscus blossoms graced the villas she passed. According to her directions, she was looking for a gated community off Old Cutler Road.

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