Bad Hair 8 - Day Perish By Pedicure (6 page)

It’s not your concern
, she told herself, withdrawing her car keys from her purse. Georgia remained silent, so Marla spent the drive trying to rally her friend’s spirits.

She did a good job, because by the time they arrived at the shopping center housing the Cut ‘N Dye, Georgia was chatting happily about the restaurants in San Francisco, where she lived. Her appetite had returned with gusto, necessitating a stop at Burger King on the way west. Fortunately, the afternoon air had warmed to a balmy seventy degrees with a light sea breeze.

“This is why I love living in Florida,” Marla said, sipping a Diet Coke in the parking lot of her shopping strip. “It’s worth the risk of hurricanes. Besides, most of the tempests I’ve confronted have been caused by people.”

But she felt as though a whirlwind hit as soon as they walked through the door at her salon. Nicole had a panicked look on her face. “Marla, thank God,” the cinnamon-skinned stylist called out from her station. “I didn’t know where to put everyone.”

The seats up front were filled with regular customers and a couple of the models. Glancing toward the rear, Marla noticed Sampson using her chair for a coloring job, while another model sat at an empty manicure console with foils in her hair. The fifth girl occupied a seat by the shampoo sinks. Liesl stood by Sampson’s side, looking bored.

What am I supposed to do when Ron gets here, hand him his styling combs
? Marla wondered.
Is that all my role requires
?

“How’s it going, guys?” She waved to her staff members. Other than Nicole, whom she’d left in charge, the rest of her crew seemed oblivious to the commotion. Not surprising, considering some of the other interruptions they’d experienced in the past, thanks to Marla’s sleuthing.

Jan intercepted her. “Did you find Ron? We’re on a time schedule, you know.” The redhead tapped her watch.

“He wanted to start the other model in his room. He’ll be along shortly.”

Jan must have heard something in her voice, because she snorted. “Don’t count on it.”

“I can do one of the girls in the meantime,” Marla offered.

“Not yet. Let’s review the setup for our photo shoot.” She signaled for Marla to follow her to the reception area.

As Marla passed the front desk, Luis grinned. She imagined the handsome Hispanic enjoyed having the models close by. One of them had evidently gotten tired of sitting around. The tall raven-haired beauty flipped through a magazine on his counter, sneaking glances at his dark eyes and trim beard.
Wait until Ron arrives, pal. You’ll have competition.

Her attention turned to Georgia, who’d removed an entire display case worth of goods. The sales rep had placed Luxor products on the shelves instead and was now occupied in arranging them in a certain order.

“Can I help you with those?” Marla asked, scurrying over.

She didn’t want to incur the disfavor of her other accounts.

“Listen, hon, you’re representing Luxor now. We have to show off our merchandise to its best advantage.” Georgia had tied a bandanna around her head to keep her curly black hair off her face. Her eyes sparkled as she put a sign in front of a promotional videotape for sale. “We have a unique straightening process that Sampson will be applying next if you want to watch. He’s certified to perform thermal hair reconditioning. Customers can buy this video if they want to see how it works.”

“Wonderful, but perhaps we should replace this stock—”

“Marla, let’s not quibble over minor stuff. Georgia is one of our top sales reps,” Jan chided. “Look, this is a good spot for the photographer. He can place the backdrop screen over there, and the lights will go in these two spots. Do you have any potted plants to soften the scene?”

“Sure,” Marla mumbled, feeling as though a steamroller had overtaken her salon. Better to go with the flow, and fix things later.

She didn’t realize how much time passed while shuffling around following Jan’s orders, assisting Ron, who sauntered in the door two hours late, and fitting in one of her own clients with a rush job. Jan was haranguing everyone to finish and get back to the hotel when Detective Dalton Vail strode through the door with his daughter and her grandparents in tow.

“Marla,” he cried, his craggy face breaking into a smile, “I just stopped by to show Justine and Larry your place, but I didn’t expect to see you here. How about joining us for dinner?”

Marla glanced at a wall clock. It was past five already? “I’m afraid not. The show opens tomorrow morning at nine. We need to make sure the exhibit is ready as well as the models.” She swept her hand to indicate the preening girls, adjusting their costumes in front of the mirror.

Justine’s eyes widened as she took in Ron’s outfit, a khaki shirt open to the waist and hip-hugging leather pants. But that was nothing compared to the shimmering sequined tops and miniskirts on the models.

“Dear heavens, Marla, is this the norm for your clients?” the older woman exclaimed, staring at the rainbow of hair colors the models displayed. One girl sported shades of red alternating with plum. It made her nose ring stand out.

“Not really,” Marla replied, her cheeks warming. “It’s purely for razzle-dazzle at the show.”

“Maybe if this were Las Vegas.” Justine sniffed.

“You and Georgia can have the evening off,” Jan told Marla with a knowing smile. “We’ll be outta here soon, before your doors close at six. So run along, and have a good time.”

Oh joy
. Marla plastered a smile on her face as she turned to Vail. At least Georgia would be there to give her moral support. “If you don’t mind having us tag along…”

“Don’t be silly, sweetcakes,” her fiancé said, beaming. “We’re all one big happy family. Aren’t we?” he asked his daughter.

“Sure,” said the thirteen-year-old, swinging her ponytail. “We’d love for you to come. Right, Nana?”

Chapter Six

Vail decided to take his former in-laws to Padrino’s for dinner, because they’d never eaten Cuban food. Marla had her doubts that they’d like black beans and rice, but Georgia might find it fun. Personally, she liked the restaurant for its white-clothed tables, lively atmosphere, and tasty fare. Located in the Fountains Shopping Center, it held its place among the competition. She often went there for lunch, choosing the reasonably priced buffet.

“You certainly have your choice of malls nearby,” Justine commented when their party met up with Marla and her friend at the entrance. Marla had driven separately, giving Vail time with his family. After a harassing day, she’d rather have gone home and changed first, but she was curious to know if Vail had learned anything about Christine’s death from his cronies. Nor could she constantly avoid her guests. She’d accepted the responsibility, and it wasn’t her policy to shirk her duties, however unpleasant.

“I looked for a space here when I considered moving my salon,” she confessed, ducking under Vail’s outstretched arm while he held the restaurant door open. “But I prefer the idea of pedestrian traffic, and Palm Haven has a town square under construction. It’s going to be really neat, with upscale boutiques, bistros, and a cutting-edge technology museum that’ll draw young people to the area. The opportunity to get in at the ground level was too good to miss.”

That’s awesome, Marla,” Georgia gushed. “We’ll have to drive over there so I can take a look. When will the place be ready?”

Marla stood aside while Vail gave his name to the hostess. They say it’ll take six more months, but you know how those things go. Meanwhile, I’m hoping to decide what sinks I want, the fixtures, and all the other stuff that goes into a salon.”

“Won’t you take anything from Cut ‘N Dye?”

“No. I really want to start fresh. Probably I’ll sell most of the old equipment. I’m hoping to look around at the show, see what’s new.”

“What did you gals accomplish today?” Vail asked, filing behind them into the dining room. Their round table seated six, and Marla found herself wedged between him and Georgia. His in-laws flanked Brianna, who grabbed for the sliced bread as soon as the waiter set a basket on the table.

Marla saved her answer until after their drinks arrived. She and Georgia shared a pitcher of sangria. Swallowing a gulp of the chilled fruity wine, she proceeded. “We set up the exhibit, got the stage ready for tomorrow’s demos, and prepped the models in my salon. I’m amazed we got that much done, considering how the day started.”

“Oh, yeah—about that call you wanted me to make,” Vail began, twirling his water glass.

“Justine and Larry probably aren’t interested in hearing about our jobs,” Georgia interrupted, lifting her glass in a mock toast. “I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she told them. “You and Brianna must have a lot of catching up to do.”

Marla gave her a sly glance. Had she diverted the conversation on purpose? If so, for whose benefit?

“Brie is so grown up now.” Larry puffed out his chest. “Did she tell you she got an A on her last English test? And she’s trying out for soccer in the spring term? Way to go, pumpkin.”

“Soccer?” Marla said. “You didn’t tell me about that, sweetie,” she added, turning to Brianna. “I think you’d be great at it, with your long legs.” At thirteen, Brianna already showed promise of being tall. She’d started filling out, and height wasn’t the only manifestation of her growth. Soccer would be really good to keep her in shape. But who would take her to the games if Vail had to work late?

“I don’t know, Marla,” Justine said, glaring at her over a slightly uptilted nose. “Raising a teenager is a big responsibility. Brie will need someone to drive her around, and that’s only the beginning. These can be tumultuous years.”

“I drove Brianna to ballet class for a while, so I know what to expect,” she retorted, her muscles tensing. “And Brie already looks to me for guidance on grooming matters, right?” she asked the girl, who nodded. “We’ll work things out.”

Justine’s lips tightened, making Marla wonder how Vail had described their arrangement. He’d promised she wouldn’t get stuck with housekeeping duties or attending school functions unless it was her choice. Knowing how she felt about children, he understood the reason for making these promises, but Justine and Larry had no knowledge of the tragedy in her past or even about her previous marriage.

“I’ll bet your daughter would be proud of the young lady Brie has turned into,” Georgia said to Justine as she nudged Marla’s knee under the table. What was she trying to do, forge a mutual admiration society? Pam’s parents would never accept her as a substitute for Brianna’s mother.

Justine’s eyes misted. “You’re right. Brianna has her same dark eyes, too. She’d only want what’s best for you, dear,” she told the girl.

“Mom would want Daddy to be happy, too.” Fiddling with her fork, Brie spoke quietly. Marla’s heart went out to her. Caught in the middle, she shouldn’t be forced to choose sides.

“Your father needs a strong woman to support him. He works long hours in the police force, and some nights he doesn’t come home at all. That’s not the proper forum in which to raise children, unless he has a wife who cares more about her family than her job.”

Marla half rose from her seat. “Excuse me? Today a lot of families have two-career households. I can provide the same level of care as a stay-at-home mom. In addition, I’ll be a good role model for Brie.”

“Marla is there for us when we need her,” Vail added, his fierce scowl challenging his in-laws to defy him. “She may wear a lot of hats, but she puts her heart where it counts.”

“No kidding,” Georgia put in with a teasing grin. “It’s true that if Marla says she’ll do something, she’ll follow through to the end—and that doesn’t always work to her advantage. Like when we were college freshmen and she was put in charge of the light-bulb sale to raise money for our sorority. When the day came to distribute the bulbs, Marla noticed the supply fell short. She went around and unscrewed all the lights in the common rooms that weren’t being used and gave them to people to sell. She’d planned to run to the hardware store later to buy more, but before she could replace the bulbs in the empty sockets, the dean dropped by for a surprise visit. Needless to say, she got in a heap of trouble.”

Marla flushed in embarrassment while the others laughed, all except Justine, who didn’t appear amused. Marla remembered how she’d tried to live up to her commitment and had fully intended to replace the missing bulbs before the day’s end. That lesson taught her to expect the unexpected and to assess a situation before she got involved in it. Of course, sometimes she got sucked into things she’d rather avoid anyway, like this conversation.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested, leaning back while the waitress delivered their meals.

“Yeah, Marla, let’s talk about that woman who died this morning,” Brianna said, making Marla nearly choke on the forkful of pan-fried tilapia in her mouth. “We often discuss cases over dinner,” the girl told her shocked grandparents.

“Well, I never,” Justine remarked, giving Marla a scathing glance.

“It helps to talk things out,” Marla said. “Brianna is pretty smart, and sometimes she comes up with a new angle. We consider it an intellectual exercise. Right, honey?”

Georgia cut in. “This may not be the best place to talk about Christine. I’d rather tell you about our new line of sunscreen products. We’re totally going to
rule
at the show.”

Sensing that Georgia was revving up for a sales pitch, Marla pressed forward. “Dalton, did you speak to your colleagues in the Fort Lauderdale precinct about their findings?”

Looking like a piece of meat being haggled over by a group of squawking vultures, Vail pounced on her opening. “Actually, I did. It doesn’t appear as though the victim’s death resulted from natural causes.”

“That makes it a homicide case, right, Dad?” Brianna said proudly. “Like, don’t keep us in the dark. What did you learn?”

He gave her an indulgent grin. “The deceased had a labeled prescription bottle in her bathroom. She took antidepressants, but the preliminary toxicology report showed a different type of medication in her system, something called a monoamine oxidase inhibitor.”

“What’s that?” Marla swallowed a bite of fried plantains.

“It’s a drug that’s dangerous when taken with certain foods. Together, they can produce a hypertensive crisis. But Chris’s regular prescription was for a newer medicine that doesn’t cause this adverse reaction.”

“I don’t understand. What foods do you mean?”

“Red wine and aged cheese, for example. She may have ingested these items at your cocktail party last evening.”

“Are you saying someone may have slipped her a riskier drug, or that her prescription was wrong?”

He peered at her from beneath his thick eyebrows. “The pills in her bottle were analyzed. They matched the label.”

“I don’t get it.” Marla tilted her head. “Somebody gave her a different antidepressant? Why? To produce a deadly interaction, and yet let it seem as though she had collapsed from a seizure?”

“But she did have a seizure,” Georgia put in.

“That’s one of the outcomes of a hypertensive crisis,” Vail explained. “In this situation, not of natural causes.”

“Chris drank wine last night,” Marla added. “Her glass always seemed to be full. I saw her nibble on cheese and crackers, too. How can that be harmful?”

Vail pulled a sheaf of folded papers from his pocket. The forensics guy faxed this over because I didn’t understand the whole thing myself.” He consulted his printout. “If you want to get technical, the first generation of drugs known as MAO inhibitors had a major side effect called the cheese reaction. There’s a substance present in certain foods that has the ability to release noradrenaline. This substance is called tyramine.”

“Really, Dalton, is this necessary?” Justine said with a sniff.

He spared her a glance. “Just let me finish. The MAO inhibitors prevent noradrenaline from metabolizing. That means when you combine those foods with this type of drug, you get an increase in sympathetic nervous activity.”

“Huh?” Marla took a sip of sangria, hoping the red wine it contained wouldn’t produce any adverse reactions.

Vail summarized from his notes. “MAO-A is the specific enzyme responsible for noradrenaline metabolism. After this was identified, the newer drugs were developed.”

“Didn’t you say Chris’s medicine was not harmful?” Marla asked while another gulp of fruity wine slid down her throat.

“Correct. She was taking one of the safer reversible inhibitors. The classic antidepressants are rarely prescribed anymore, but they may still be used for depressed people who don’t respond to other meds. In other words, you can still get hold of them.”

“So if you’re taking the classic drugs, you have to avoid red wine and cheese?”

“Any foods with tyramine, including aged cheeses, processed meats, wine, beer, yogurt, chocolate, and caffeine.”

“All the good stuff,” Marla muttered, thinking she’d almost prefer to risk illness than give up her morning coffee.

“What are the symptoms of a bad reaction?” Brianna inserted, buttering another piece of bread. Marla noticed she’d polished off half the loaf.

Vail shuffled through his pages until he found the response. “Headache, palpitations, nausea, chest pain, seizures, then circulatory collapse.”

“Chris complained of a headache last night,” Georgia said, twisting her napkin. “Oh gosh, I remember she ate some salami.”

Justine gave them all chastising looks. ‘This is a horrible topic to discuss at the dinner table. I swear, Dalton, if Pam were alive, she’d have your hide for exposing the child to this sordid business.”

“You’re right,” Marla said, agreeing for once. She glanced at Vail, who wore a sheepish expression while stuffing the papers back into his pocket. No time like the present for a change of subject. “Tell me, Justine, what did Pam like to do for fun? Dalton mentioned that she took walks in the park.”

It wouldn’t hurt for her to meet Pam’s parents at the halfway mark. They meant to guard Brianna’s future, so they’d probably scrutinize anyone Dalton chose for a second wife. She shouldn’t regard their remarks as personal criticism. It was time to dismiss Pam as a rival for Dalton’s affection and move on. He’d been willing to put his wife’s ghost to rest; now it was her turn. Fixing an interested expression on her face, she leaned forward.

Justine’s eyes lit up. “Pam was an old-fashioned girl at heart. She grew up with traditional values. Being a stay-at-home mom was important to her, but she also liked entertaining and getting involved in parent activities.”

Marla half-listened while Justine droned ori about Pam’s sterling qualities. She had intended to pay attention, but Vail’s drug explanations echoed in her mind, being of much more interest.

After they got home and her guests had retired to their rooms, Marla pushed aside her concerns and decided to get caught up on her phone calls. She spoke to her mother and brother, then phoned her best friend, Tally. Tally owned the Dress to Kill boutique where Marla bought a lot of her clothes.

“How’s the hair show?” Tally asked. “Or would you rather tell me how you’re getting along with your visitors?”

“You won’t believe this, but the company director was found dead this morning. Someone may have slipped her a drug similar to pills she was taking but with deadlier side effects.”

“No way. Marla, don’t tell me you’re involved in another murder investigation.”

“Of course not.” Marla filled her in on events so far. “Isn’t it curious that Chris’s demise happened under these circumstances? Think about it. A group of people get together only for these trade shows. Someone among them knows that Chris takes anti-depressants. It’s possible this person obtained the more dangerous drug and either substituted some tablets in Chris’s container or slipped it to her through another means.”

“Like in her drink at the cocktail party.”

“Exactly. What does this add up to in your mind?”

“A premeditated crime,” Tally said.

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