11 Hanging by a Hair (12 page)

He disappeared down the hallway while Marla tended to the flowers and then washed her hands. She glanced at Brie, whose crease lines between her eyes hadn’t erased. The teen focused on a textbook and scribbled in a notebook on the kitchen table.

“Finished with your math?”

“Yeah. I’m on Spanish. It’s harder in high school. Our teacher won’t let us speak any English.”

“You’ll learn it better that way, and your job prospects will increase if you’re bilingual.”

“That’s if I stay in South Florida.”

Marla’s heart lurched.
Lord save me, I’m not ready for this discussion. It’s too early. I’ve just entered her life, and she wants to leave already?

“Why, where were you thinking of going to college?”

“I dunno.” Brianna’s ponytail swung as she tilted her head to regard Marla. “I might want to see what it’s like to live up north.”

“You have a few years to think about it.” What Marla saw was dollar signs rolling before her eyes. Nor did she imagine Dalton would be thrilled about his daughter moving so far away. With his overprotective instincts, he’d butted heads with the teen on more than one occasion, but Marla’s influence had softened his attitude.

During dinner she brought Brie and Dalton up to date on her findings. Her husband didn’t have anything new to add about Alan Krabber, but he seemed in a better mood. Maybe because he had a new case to work—a body had been found in a canal. But she knew it still irked him that he’d been removed from his regular team.

Wishing to do all she could to help him, she contacted the ladies on the garage sale list she’d received from Cherry and set a date to meet at the community center on Sunday. Marla had to get up to speed on what her predecessor had accomplished thus far.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t much. When Sunday rolled around, Marla’s heart sank as she regarded the piles of heaped clothing, bric-a-brac and housewares dumped in the clubhouse.

Oy vey, where do we start?

Once all ten ladies on her committee had filtered in, she introduced herself and requested clarification on their progress. They were glad for her leadership, having been left in the lurch when the former chair fell ill. Not a single person mentioned the association meeting, nor did anyone look down their noses at her as she’d feared. To her relief, the women were chatty and amiable. Amazed at how a young community could attract so many donations, Marla assigned a team to each category of goods and suggested ways to organize the items.

While the residents started sorting the goods, she sat down with pen and paper to work out a schedule, along with publicity for the event day.

A musty odor tickled her nose. Was it coming from the carpet or the old clothes? And why would the carpet give off an odor if it was only two years old? Was there a leak inside the clubhouse? Cherry had mentioned applying the sale’s proceeds to new floor covering.

“Marla, we really should tag everything.” Debbie Morris wove her way through the tables in Marla’s direction. The association secretary wore her strawberry blond hair in an attractive bob. “I can get the tickets if you want.”

“What do you mean?”

The petite woman stopped by Marla’s folding chair, a piece of luggage in her hand. She plopped the suitcase down and sank into the adjacent seat. Her earnest blue eyes fixed on Marla. “If you don’t offer a price, people will make low bids. We should give them an idea of how much we want. Some folks have no idea of how much to pay.”

Debbie wanted to tag each individual item? Was she nuts?

Marla scanned the room, overflowing with clothes and kitchenware and toys and sports equipment, not to mention a few containers filled with costume jewelry. Oh, and in that corner was a stack of books. They couldn’t possibly label each one.

“That would be a lot of extra work.”
Work that you’re avoiding by sitting here.

“Nonetheless, I’ve run garage sales at home myself, and I always make out well. Presentation is also important. We should group like items together in a tableau setting.”

“Maybe you’d like to take charge since you have such wonderful ideas? I haven’t done a garage sale before.”

Debbie gave her a shy smile. “No, thanks. I’m not good at directing people.”

You’re doing just fine at the moment.

Marla searched for a way to take advantage of their tête-a-tête. “I feel kind of funny about holding a big sale like this right after Alan Krabber’s death. He was our president. It doesn’t seem respectful.”

Debbie’s head bent, and she tugged at her jeans. Gold flashed on her wedding band, reflected by the overhead lighting. “Poor Alan. He could be grating at times, but he had our best interests at heart. I can’t say the same for Gene.”

“The vice president?”

Debbie glanced over her shoulder and then leaned inward. “Gene had his reasons for wanting Alan to step down. Now he’ll have his way since he’s in charge.”

“What reasons might those be?”

“You’ve only been here since January. It isn’t rainy season yet, but watch out when it pours. You smell the carpet in here? That’s because the windows leak. Unfortunately, the problem isn’t limited to this building. Most of our homes are involved, and probably yours, too, even though it’s newer.”

Marla glanced at the beige Berber floor covering. “The earlier houses must have passed inspection. Are you saying they all have leaky windows? How is that possible? They’re up to code, aren’t they?”

“Oh, yes, they meet hurricane requirements, to be sure.”

“So how can water get in? Aren’t they properly sealed?”

Debbie’s mouth turned down. She wore pink lipstick that complimented her fair complexion. “Ever hear of faulty components, dear?”

Marla’s stomach somersaulted. She and Dalton had been so careful, checking for Chinese drywall and any other possible blots against the builder, but the man had come up clean.

“You’d mentioned Gene had his reasons for wanting Alan out of the way.” She realized how that sounded when Debbie blanched. “I mean, he was ready to step up and take charge.”

“Yes, because Alan’s cousin, Beamis Woodhouse, is one of the suppliers for this development. Alan was trying to get Beamis to replace the windows, but Beamis says the problem isn’t his fault. No wonder; replacements would cost a bundle of money. Gene suggested we get bids from other companies.”

“It’s better to get the guy who supplied the product to make good on his work, isn’t it? Wouldn’t this fall under our warranty from the builder if the windows are defective?”

“Not necessarily. I don’t know the technicalities, but Alan didn’t want to get the lawyers involved because of the potential cost to the association.”

“That sounds reasonable. Hopefully, Gene will be able to follow through and get the issue fixed without us going to court.”

Marla cast a glance at the area designated for linens. She hoped those donated throw pillows didn’t come with bedbugs. This being a new community, that shouldn’t be so, but people could have brought old goods with them from their prior homes.

“Hey, Debbie,” called a heavy-set dark-haired lady, “are you gonna sit there all day? We could use your help over here.”

“All right, I’m coming.” The secretary turned to Marla with a wan smile. “Our resale values will be zilch unless we get the windows replaced. Let’s hope Gene finds a solution fast.”

Marla expressed her concerns to Dalton later at the local park, where they’d gone for a walk while Brianna visited a friend. The clouds had cleared and a cool, bright day ensued. She soaked in the sunshine as she strode beside him at a brisk pace. A sweet scent tickled her nose. At least she didn’t have to worry about mosquitos this time of year.

“It could be the installation was faulty,” Dalton suggested, a scowl on his face.

“If so, then the supplier would be in the clear.”

“I’ll see what I can find out. This sounds like material for a class-action lawsuit.”

“Debbie said Alan didn’t want to waste association funds on attorneys.”

“Individual homeowners could file together. But perhaps the veep will come to an agreement with one of the contractors.”

Marla returned to the foremost issue on her mind. “Do you think the Board members are in the clear regarding Alan’s death? I mean, what would any of them have to gain?”

“Other than Gene Uris stepping up to the presidency?” Dalton shrugged. “Kat is doing background checks but I’m not privy to her findings.”

She heard the frustration in his tone. “I thought your pals were keeping you informed.”

“Not lately, and besides, I’ve got my own case to work right now.” He patted his pocket. “I’ll have to go in if I get a call. Let’s relax for now and enjoy the day.”

They strolled in silence, while Marla’s thoughts drifted to her own work-related issues. She’d had another incident with her recalcitrant stylist but hesitated to fire her. The salon would lose clients who were stubbornly loyal to the girl. What else could Marla do to bring her in line?

“Is everything set for Brie’s birthday next weekend?” Dalton asked, regarding her with pride and affection.

Her heart warmed to this man she’d married. Throwing her cares to the wind, she proceeded to discuss their upcoming luncheon plans.

Monday found her going to the restaurant to confirm details for Brie’s party and then meeting Kate, her mother-in-law, elsewhere for lunch. Kate and John had been renting an apartment until they could find a condo to buy. Dalton’s mother had invited Marla to view several possibilities with her that afternoon.

“I love the location near the water of this one place,” Kate gushed across the table from Marla at the Parisian Café on Las Olas Boulevard. They’d ordered their meals and sat sipping iced tea.

Kate’s auburn hair was coiffed into a flattering style and her hazel eyes sparkled with excitement. She wore a teal patterned top and tan Capri pants. Gold jewelry and decorated flip flops completed her ensemble.

“How many rooms does it have?”

“Three bedrooms, which is great because we need space for John’s stained glass studio. But I’m not sure I’d like living in a high-rise.”

“It would be very different from your house in Maine.”

“I know. John loves the ocean view, and we’d be directly east of you in Fort Lauderdale, but I’d prefer a place with more activities.”

“Some of the fancy buildings by the New River have their own movie theaters, exercise rooms, and pools. Have you looked into those? They probably hold events for residents.”

Kate shook her head. “It doesn’t interest me. I’ve thought about Delray Beach. That city has a lot of cultural happenings along with interesting shops and restaurants. Plus, it isn’t too far away from you.” She paused as the waitress delivered their lunch plates.

Marla picked up her fork and speared a piece of lettuce. She’d ordered a salad with mixed greens, Gouda cheese, avocado, turkey, candied pecans and dried cranberries. Kate bit into her grilled chicken and melted cheese sandwich. They ate for a few moments in silence.

“How are the plans coming for Brianna’s party? Does she have any idea her friends are invited?” Kate asked in between bites.

“If she does, she hasn’t let on. I can’t believe she’ll be old enough for a driver’s permit.”

“Will Dalton allow her to get one?”

“We haven’t discussed it. I plan to hire a driving instructor, though. I wouldn’t want Dalton to give her lessons.”

“A wise idea. John taught Dalton how to drive, and it was a nightmare.” Kate chewed and swallowed. “I was planning to give Brianna money for her birthday unless you can think of something she wants?”

“She’d love to get an iPhone. We told her she’d have to save up for one herself, so cash would be welcome. Since Brie likes to read, we’ve bought her an e-reader.”

“I’d still rather hold a book in my hand, but she’ll like it.”

A brief interlude ensued where they both enjoyed their meals. Kate’s bracelets clinked on her arm. Marla eyed them surreptitiously, wondering what she could buy for her mother-in-law when it was her birthday.

“So tell me about this neighbor who ended up dead,” Kate said.

Marla choked and sipped iced tea to chase the food down. “How much did Dalton tell you?”

“Just that the guy was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to die that way. He hanged himself?”

“Actually, Alan’s death is being treated as a homicide case.”

“Oh?” Kate arched her eyebrows, a lighter shade than her hair.

She should fill them in with a little brow pencil.
Harnessing her thoughts, Marla informed Kate about their progress so far.

“Dalton is still irked that he’s off the case,” Marla concluded.

Kate’s lips pursed. “Nonetheless, it’s good policy to remove a detective who might be biased due to personal interests.” She lowered her voice. “Dalton didn’t get physical with the guy, did he?”

Marla stared at her. “How can you say that? You know your son. Usually he’s the one who acts calm in a crisis.”

“Yes, but this guy insulted you, and Dalton has a wicked protective instinct.”

Marla stabbed a chunk of turkey with her fork. “Tell me about it.”

“Did the nephew say he would remove the partial fence and the stone path?”

“He promised to comply with the code. We’ll see if he follows through.”

“Poor fellow probably has enough to handle.”

“Alan was putting in a standby generator to keep his computers going in the event of a power failure. His gadgets were important to him. He also received lots of deliveries from UPS. I can’t help feeling those things are related, but I can’t figure the connection.”

“I thought you said he was a retired insurance executive?”

“That’s correct, and he made enough money to live comfortably. Then again, he didn’t have a family to support.”

“Had he ever been married?”

“No, he’d been engaged once to a Jewish woman. Would you believe it? Her parents disapproved and took the girl away to Europe. When she came back, I guess she broke off the engagement, because that was the end of their relationship.”

“No wonder Krabber came down on you,” Kate said. “He must have hated it when you moved in next door.”