Bad Hair Day 2 - Hair Raiser (11 page)

*Chapter Eleven*
As the orchestra began its overture, Marla sizzled with curiosity. She bit her lip to keep from firing questions about her cousin during the blaring musical introduction to _Rent._ The decibel level made conversation difficult anyway, so she suppressed her concerns and watched the curtain rise.
Her attention was diverted to the show which she found difficult to comprehend. Her ears couldn't distinguish the lyrics, although she understood most songs bemoaned the sad lives of the unfortunate characters. Either the acoustics were faulty, or the generation gap left her in the dark. Between the loud music and youth-oriented theme, she was ready for a drink by the time intermission rolled around.
"Isn't it awesome?" Brianna gushed, grinning happily on their way to the lobby.
"Oh yeah, it's wonderful," she muttered. "I think my ears are still ringing."
"Me, too," Vail said, a bemused expression on his face. "What happened to musicals with melody and romance? This one is a bummer. I'd just evict those people and be done with it."
They got in line at the refreshment stand. "You don't get it, Daddy," Brianna chided, her ponytail swinging as she bounced on her heels. Scorn crossed her features. "Just face it, you're a dork."
"Perhaps his taste in music is different from yours," Marla said soothingly.
"My taste in everything is different from hers," Vail grated, the creases around his eyes deepening.
It couldn't be easy for him to understand a girl on the verge of puberty, Marla thought with a swell of compassion. Or had his daughter already reached that milestone? Not being a maven on adolescence, she didn't presume to offer advice, although sometimes her insights were useful. Many of her clients described their troubles with teenaged children, and she'd learned a lot from acting as listening post. But Brianna had problems that stemmed from deeper roots, Marla decided, and she didn't feel experienced enough to deal with them.
Hoping to steer the conversation away from personal issues, she returned to an earlier topic, blurting out the question that plagued her. "What about Cynthia? You didn't finish telling me about her. What did she have against Ben?"
Vail quirked an eyebrow. "I think that's something you'll have to ask Cynthia for yourself."
"Is her motive strong enough so you believe she could have committed murder over it?"
"You and I don't think the same way as a murderer, Marla. What we regard as insignificant, a killer embellishes in his mind. Or else he's just after something in particular, like money. Explain to me how Popeye's trust works again. If Ocean Guard fails to meet its obligations, who inherits the property?"
"No one knows. Cynthia's husband was supposed to ask the trustee, Morton Riley, but he's out of town. Ben's firm originally drew up the trust. Maybe Ben was murdered to hide the identity of Popeye's heir. This might be the person responsible for sabotaging our fund raiser and dumping medical waste on the mangrove preserve."
"That doesn't work for me," Brianna proclaimed merrily. "Because if the heir gets the goods, everyone will know who it is. The heir can't be the murderer."
Marla was surprised by the girl's astuteness. "That's a good point, but this person might still be desperate enough to commit a crime, especially if rational thought doesn't enter the equation like you suggested," she added to Dalton.
"I'll see what I can find out," he promised. "What would you like to order?" They'd reached the front of the line.
She scanned the menu items. "I'll have a glass of Chardonnay, thanks. I'm still full from dinner."
"And I'll have a Coke. Man, I wish some of my friends were here," Brianna whined, looking bored.
Marla realized she was neglecting her duty in getting to know the girl, so the rest of intermission she spent querying Brianna about her interests while carefully keeping away from painful topics like parents. She figured they were both glad when the show started again.
When he brought her home, Vail left his daughter in the car to walk Marla to her door. "Listen, if I need your help with this investigation, I'll let you know. Otherwise, please steer clear of trouble, so I don't have to worry about you."
"I'll be careful," she hedged. "Thanks for a delightful evening. I'm glad I had the chance to meet Brianna. She's a lovely girl."
"Yeah, when she isn't mouthing off. Look, I'm not sure about my schedule right now, but I'll call you." He hesitated, wavering as though he wanted to say something else.
Marla felt the heat from his powerful frame even from where she stood. And she felt something more, vibes emanating from him that struck a chord within herself. In the lamplight, ribbons of silver gleamed in his hair. His intense gaze snagged hers, stealing the breath from her lungs.
"Brianna is watching," he said huskily.
"Yes."
"You know what I want to do."
"Yes."
"Next time."
"Is that a promise?" Her lips curved in a wistful smile.
"You bet." His jawline tightened. "Do as I say, Marla, and don't interfere with my case. I'm looking after your welfare."
"I know." Although she appreciated his concern, those words rankled. After living with Stan, she'd vowed to make her own decisions. No man would direct her path ever again.
Thus when Cynthia called to make her an offer she couldn't refuse, Marla felt no guilt in accepting. It was her life, and she'd do whatever she damn well pleased.
"Bruce has tracked Morton Riley to the Bahamas," Cynthia told her on the phone Sunday afternoon. "Ocean Guard has authorized the expense of sending you and David after him. David is stopping by to pick up the tickets, and he'll meet you at the airport tomorrow morning at eight for the flight to Nassau."
Marla's mouth gaped. A free trip to the Bahamas? "W-Why me?" she stuttered.
"I have to get the house ready for Thanksgiving," Cynthia explained in a coaxing tone. "You're the most logical person to go. Besides, this will be a great opportunity for you and David to get closer."
"Just how close do you mean? And whose idea was this, yours or my mother's?" Marla regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.
"Actually, it was his idea. David is quite enamored with you, darling. I'm so thrilled for you. He's a brilliant catch."
Marla had mixed feelings. She wasn't that much of a fool to let a good man get away if he had potential. Not that matrimony was on her mind. Companionship was the key word here, that's all.
"When are the flights? I have to go back to work Tuesday."
"Get someone to cover for you. Your plane leaves Fort Lauderdale airport tomorrow at nine A.M. It's a half hour nonstop flight on Bahamasair, so you'll get in quite early. You may be able to finish your business in one day, but I've made a hotel reservation at the Marriott on Cable Beach just in case you have trouble locating Morton Riley. Your return flight is Wednesday evening."
"That's three days from now!" She'd have to call Nicole to cover for her. The stylist wouldn't be pleased, but this was important. "Don't you want me to come over and do Annie's hair today?" she asked, remembering Cynthia's request.
"Annie isn't home," Cynthia snapped. "She went off with Shark again. I swear that boy is a bad influence, but the stupid girl won't listen to me. Her eyes are blinded where he's concerned." Her cousin's voice lowered. "Now I'm noticing things missing from the house, Marla. Small objects, but expensive ones like an Lladro figurine and some Hummels. I've put my staff on alert, but no one's seen anything."
"Are you getting a background check on him?"
"I hired someone, but the report isn't ready, yet. Oh, before I forget, I'm giving David spending money, so let him pay for all the meals."
_Lord save me, this should be an interesting vacation._ Doubtless Cynthia would expect to hear the intimate details of their relationship when she returned.
She didn't dare consider what Vail would think about her going on a jaunt with one of his suspects. But if David were the heir, he wouldn't be chasing after the trustee who could finger him on sight. David's integrity impressed her as being of paramount importance to him. Marla felt certain he was every bit as eager to locate Popeye's beneficiary as were she and her cousin. Ocean Guard's future viability was at stake, and so was Marla's continued regard in her relative's eyes. If she and David had the power to blow this case wide open, it was worth a try.
Opening her calendar, she confirmed that her appointment with Dr. Taylor wasn't until Thursday. Maybe she wouldn't need to keep it if Morton Riley pinpointed the heir.
* * * *

Her hopes soaring, Marla waited for David at the check-in counter inside terminal three at Fort Lauderdale international airport. It was just past eight on Monday morning, and already the concourse was crowded. She'd left her car in the economy parking lot for five dollars a day, bringing a wheeled piece of carry-on luggage as her only piece of baggage.

A hand on her shoulder made her whip around. "David!" she exclaimed, a flush of pleasure lighting her features as she regarded him. His twinkling cobalt eyes were accentuated by a blue dress shirt tucked into a pair of navy pants. A sport coat was flung over his arm. He'd combed his fawn hair into a side part so a lock of it hung appealingly across his forehead. His freshly shaven jaw smelled like lime as he gave her a quick embrace.
"You look lovely this morning," he said in a low, sensual tone. His gaze roamed from her clean, blow-dried hair to her scoop neck ivory shell with the cinnamon blazer and dark tobacco slacks. A pair of sturdy flats supported her feet.
"It's a little early for flattery, isn't it?" she joked. "Let's get in line." It didn't appear as though many people would be on their flight until they went to the gate. Mostly older passengers were present, presumably gamblers eager to try their luck at the casinos before the weekend crowd arrived.
"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" David asked as they took seats facing a wall of windows.
"No, thanks, I'll wait until we get to our hotel. It's such a short flight." She smiled. "Besides, I'm already wired. I had two cups earlier."
"Have you been to Nassau before?"
"No, I haven't. I'd like to travel more often, but it's hard for me to get away from work, and I have to worry about Spooks. I put him in the kennel while we're gone, but I hate to do that to him."
He nodded. "I take my vacation in the summer, after tax season is over. Usually, I'll combine business and pleasure in Europe, where I've got some multinational accounts." He grinned broadly, showing two small dimples in his cheeks that she hadn't noticed before. "It's a minimal amount of work time that I put in, I assure you. Maybe if we're ... You might like to go with me next year."
She raised her eyebrows. "In what capacity?"
"That depends. We'll have the chance to get to know each other better on this trip. I can't wait until we're alone."
_Uh-oh._ She'd neglected to ask Cynthia about the hotel arrangements. They'd better not be booked together in the same room! Swallowing, she regarded him warily.
"Our purpose is to interview Morton Riley, remember? It's possible we might finish our business there today."
"Our return flight isn't until Wednesday," he pointed out. "There wasn't anything available before then."
"Oh, I see." Her hopes of leaving earlier flew out the door. Nicole wasn't too happy about covering for her again, and she had to take time out on Thursday to see Dr. Taylor. Ocean Guard's affairs were monopolizing her life.
Her excitement swelled as the time neared for boarding. At eight-thirty, a mint green and yellow twin-engine jet taxied to the gate. She grasped her bag as flight personnel pronounced the plane available for boarding a short time later. It wasn't a big jet, with rows of three seats each on either side of a center aisle. After settling in, she leafed through a copy of _Island Scene_ magazine. Too wound up to concentrate, she put the issue away and twisted her hands in her lap until their plane taxied onto the runway. Her ears clogged as the cabin pressurized, and the engine noise once they took off made hearing difficult. They climbed above a cloud bank and veered away from the coastline within minutes.
"Beautiful view, isn't it?" David asked, cocking his head in her direction.
"Sure," Marla replied, staring out the window. He'd kindly offered her the window seat, so she watched, fascinated by the sea below.
His warm hand clasped one of hers. "You're not nervous, are you?"
Her laughter sounded shallow. "About what?"
"About us being together."
She glanced at his serious expression. "Of course not," she lied. "I'm just anxious to find Morton Riley. Aren't you?"
For a moment, a look of hostility marred his features, but then he smiled, a bit too brightly. "Certainly, but I'm not going to let business distract from our pleasure. This is a rare opportunity for us to be together, away from everyone we know."
A shiver wormed up her spine. What if he was the killer? She shouldn't discount the possibility that he was Popeye's heir just because he was rich and didn't need money.
Nah, that was nonsense. David was just coming on to her, that's all. She could handle him, or she could relax and see where things went between them. Time would tell.
The landing went smoothly. After they passed through customs and immigration, a driver with a minibus took them into town. It was a bumpy ride, worse than the flight. What made it tolerable was the ocean view around every corner. Marla clutched her armrest, glad they hadn't rented a car. She didn't want to bother learning how to drive on the left side of the road.
They halted in front of the towering rose pink facade of the Marriott Cable Beach Resort.
"Your rooms aren't ready yet," a pleasant receptionist told them in a singsong voice. "If you come back at three o'clock, I should have the keys for you then."
Marla perked up at the plural words. Thank goodness Cynthia had the sense to reserve separate rooms. Pushing them together could only go so far without boomeranging.
"Let's find a phone and call Morton Riley," she suggested, after they'd checked their luggage with a bellhop. "Where is he staying?"
"He's renting a place in town. Riley works on international trade agreements," David explained, pulling a notebook from his jacket pocket. Ruffling through the pages, he showed her Riley's local address. "Once a year, he makes the rounds in the Caribbean basin. His house is probably near the government center."
"The phones must be downstairs where the shops are located. There's an escalator to the lower level. Let's go." She'd just as soon accomplish their mission right away. They could worry about what to do until Wednesday later, after they'd met the trustee.
Nobody answered when David dialed Riley's number. "Now what?" he said. "It's early yet. Riley may not get home until after working hours."
"We'll have to wait." Disappointed, Marla began strolling toward the shops. The lure of a sale could always distract her attention. Unfortunately, the price tags made her lip curl. _Who's gonna buy these baubles, pal? Casino high rollers?_ she thought, peering in the window of a jewelry store.
They passed more reasonable shops beyond the casino at an interior corridor leading to the Radisson, an adjacent resort. Other women cast envious glances in her direction as they sized up her companion. Was this so bad? Here she was in the sunny Bahamas on a free ticket. Why couldn't she relax for a few hours?
"I wish this business with Ocean Guard was finished so we could get on with our lives," she remarked with a grimace of impatience.
David pursed his lips, examining her face. "I want you to have a good time while we're here, Marla. Why don't you let me worry about Ocean Guard? I can see Riley on my own."
"Are you kidding? I didn't come all this way to get shuffled aside. I'm just as concerned as you."
"I know that. I'm trying to save you needless aggravation. You work too hard. As you said, you don't get away very often. Why don't you regard this trip as a minivacation?"
"I can't, at least not until we see Riley."
They headed outdoors to a spectacular pool area with a cascading rock waterfall and waterslide. The beach area was crowded with sunbathers eager to catch the early-morning rays.
Squinting in the sunlight, David gave an engaging smile. "Even after we see Riley, we have to wait for our flight. We might as well make the best of the situation. You're too uptight, Marla."
A sigh of resignation escaped her lips. "I can't help it. Time is marching on while we try to get answers to so many questions. Before we know it, Taste of the World will be upon us. We have to move quickly to expose the saboteur before he does any more damage ... or any other chefs quit the fund-raiser."
He took her by the elbow and guided her back inside where they could talk out of the heat. "We'll get the guy, don't worry. Now chill out, sweetheart. We've got a few hours to kill. Let's enjoy this place."
"Thanks for being so understanding." He was right, of course. Why beat herself over the head with their problems when there was nothing they could do at the moment? David might decide she wasn't worth the effort if she didn't lighten up.
Lunch provided a pleasant diversion. They ate in the Goombay Mama restaurant off the main lobby. David talked her into ordering a Bahama Mama, a fruity orange rum drink with a whopping punch.
"Wow," she said, feeling its effects in terms of reeling senses. "They're not stingy with their liquor here."
A silly grin split his face. "These conch fritters are the best, better than I've had in Key West. Want a taste?"
She hadn't ordered an appetizer, deciding an entree of grouper fingers would be enough. "No, thanks. Where should we go for dinner tonight?" Forcing herself to play tourist, she was gratified at David's delighted response.
"I've heard of a place called the Cafe Johnny Canoe," he said enthusiastically. "It's next to the Nassau Beach Hotel which is on the other side of this resort. I'll bet they have some other rum concoctions you can try. You sure enjoyed this one." Nodding toward her empty glass, he signaled the waiter for a refill.
"Hey, wait. I don't want to sleep all afternoon." A relaxed mood put her mind at ease. David had been correct in surmising she'd been too uptight.
"You're on vacation. Take advantage of it." He grinned disarmingly. "And if you want to take advantage of me, I'm available."
She flushed beet red, having just been thinking how charming he was and how sensuously curved his lips appeared. Their food arrived, and she hid her embarrassment by digging in with alacrity. The fish was crisp on the outside, flaky and warm as it slid down her throat. Having something solid in her stomach might dilute the effects of the rum.
After paying the bill, they checked in with the receptionist again, but their rooms still hadn't been cleaned.
"Let's go next door and take a look at that restaurant for tonight," David suggested.
Feeling as though her limbs were made of styling gel, she allowed him to guide her downstairs, where they headed outside toward the Nassau Beach Hotel. Tropical greenery shaded a walkway that wound a path to the adjacent resort.
Marla, feeling woozy, was carefully watching where she stepped and hoping the effects of the rum would wear off quickly.
"Look out!" David suddenly shouted.
Glancing up, Marla gasped. A coconut plummeted straight at her head.