Murder By Manicure Part 11

"Hey, guys!" she called in a trembling voice.

Vail whirled around, did a double take, then marched in her direction.

Arnie reached her first. "Are you okay, babe? We thought it was your car."

Hortense ran a shaky hand through her hair, which had tumbled from its upsweep onto her shoulders. "I-I'd unlocked my door. Then I got slammed to the ground. I don't know what happened." Her gaze darted like that of a trapped animal.

"Bless my bones, you're bleeding," Marla said, pointing to Hortense's skinned knees. "Maybe you should see the medics."

"N-no. I'll be all right."

Vail reached her side, a concerned expression on his face. "Did you see anything unusual?" he asked in a quiet tone.

"Isn't that your job?" Marla retorted, shaken by Hortense's near miss. "You're a detective. Didn't you record every detail while the two of you walked to your car?" He'd probably noted every contour of Hortense's outfit, she thought shrewishly. If Vail hadn't detained her so long, Hortense might have driven away before the explosion.

Hortense lifted her glazed eyes. "Well, now that you mention it, Sam was just starting his car, which was a row ahead of mine."

"Sam?" Marla queried in a high-pitched voice. "Do you mean Sam Zelman?"

"Yes," Hortense whispered.

How would Hortense recognize Sam unless they'd met earlier? Maybe she'd spotted him at Eloise's table, Marla surmised.

"Hortense needs to go home," Arnie stated, taking Hortense's arm. "She's shaken up."

"I'll have to get a statement," Vail told the shaken blonde, "but I can catch you later after this mess is cleaned up. Did you see anyone else in the vicinity?"

"No, I didn't. Sorry." Hortense stared at her shredded hosiery. "I didn't expect this to be dangerous."

"Stick around Marla, and trouble will find you," Vail muttered, exchanging a knowing look with Arnie.

Arnie grinned, dimples creasing his cheeks. "Look, Hortense needs a ride. I'll take her home. You can keep each other company."

Marla stared after them as they walked away, arm in arm. "Dear Lord, if Sam was in that car, then where's Eloise?"

"Good question," Vail told her. "Let's see if any witnesses saw them both leave the restaurant."

"Eloise can't be dead." She shook her head in disbelief. Vaguely, it occurred to her that Arnie's plan had worked. He'd gone off with Hortense while she remained with Vail. Except this disaster hadn't been part of their scheme. So who had orchestrated the blast?

"Was it a car bomb?" she asked Vail, walking fast to keep up with his long-legged stride. His stern profile revealed nothing of his feelings. She had no way of knowing whether this was just routine to him, or if he cared about the victims. His mouth was pinched into a tight line; his eyes were flat as a metal plate. From the determined set of his shoulders, she understood he meant to get answers, but that was his job. Actually, investigating this accident might not be in his jurisdiction. But since at least one of the casualties was a suspect in his case, she supposed that authorized involvement.

"You don't think this had anything to do with Jolene's death, do you?" she ventured.

"I have no theories at this point-only questions."

"How can you tell if Eloise was in that car?"

He paused, glaring at her. "Normally, a wife leaves a restaurant with her husband. Did Eloise say anything to you to indicate they'd arrived here separately?"

"Not really."

The firefighters were putting away their equipment. Tow trucks would need to clear away the rest. She waited while Vail rattled off orders to his team. A nauseating smell permeated the air: burning tires, gasoline fumes, and something else that reminded her of barbecued meat.

Her dinner rose in her stomach. Going home seemed like a good idea for her, too. "Dalton, could they tell how many people were in the car?" she asked him when he had a free moment. "Was anyone else hurt?"

He gave an exasperated snort. "If you'd let me get my job done, maybe I can find out."

Thanks, pal. That's just what I needed to hear. No one wanted her-not Arnie, and now Vail. She knew when to leave. "Fine, I'll call a friend to pick me up. I left my car at the salon, remember?"

Remorse flickered briefly in his eyes. "That's right, you drove with Arnie. If you'll wait-"

"No, I can see you're busy. Tally doesn't live far from here. She'll come get me."

Fortunately, Tally was home when Marla called from inside the restaurant. Within fifteen minutes, Marla had settled onto the seat cushions in her friend's black BMW.

"I'm so grateful," she said, shooting Tally a weary glance. The tall blonde had been watching a movie with her husband. Her casual slacks outfit fit as elegantly as on a mannequin. In contrast, Marla's clothes felt rumpled and grimy. A hot shower and a cup of coffee seemed like a piece of heaven.

Tally drove steadily, hands on the wheel. "What happened at the restaurant? And why were you and Vail there?"

Folding her hands in her lap, Marla related the course of events. "I didn't know Sam all that well, but I'll feel awful if Eloise was in their car."

"Why wouldn't she have been?"

"I don't know. I just have a feeling."

"Uh-oh."

"Eloise suspected Sam was having an affair with Jolene. Maybe she confronted him over dinner. If he was nasty or evasive, she could've walked out on him."

"Or maybe she planted the bomb herself. It fits, doesn't it? Knock off Jolene who is s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g hubby, then do in the old man? Maybe even disappear afterward so everyone believes you were in that car."

"I can't picture Eloise putting together a bomb. She's a realtor, not a mechanic."

"Anyone can learn. I'll bet they have lessons on the Internet."

Marla shuddered. "How awful. Learn to blow up people in ten easy steps? What is this world coming to?"

Tally maneuvered into the right lane. "Eloise never had evidence Sam's meetings with Jolene were for amorous purposes. What if they met over a matter of business?"

"Like what?"

"He was a realtor also. Was Jolene interested in changing her residence? Or investing in property?"

"Good point. Maybe I'll stop in at their office Monday. Dalton should have word on Eloise by then."

They pulled into the parking lot where the Cut 'N Dye was located. Tally found a spot near Marla's Toyota and idled the engine. Another deserted, dark avenue for muggers, Marla thought with a shiver. Or mad bombers. How could she tell if her car was wired?

"Are you still meeting me at the club tomorrow morning?" Tally asked. "Ken has a golf game, so I've got a few hours free."

"Yeah, I'll be there. I want to talk to Amy, so maybe we can have a snack before our workout. Is there a Dancercize cla.s.s scheduled?"

"I think so. Eight o'clock too early?"

"On Sunday? h.e.l.l, yes. Let's make it at nine."

"Nine-killer. That's another name for the butcher bird, or shrike, which supposedly kills nine birds a day," Amy said while Marla perused the food choices at the juice bar.

"Is that so?"

"Three down. More to go. If you don't watch out, you'll ruin the show."

"Huh?" Now Amy sounded like Marla's neighbor Goat, who often spoke in obscure phrases.

Amy's turquoise eyes bored into hers. "I heard about the Zelmans. Mr. Goodfellow is here with Wallace Ritiker. He told me."

"Hank? I thought he'd left the restaurant already. We didn't see him later on."

Amy shrugged. "It must have been a blast."

Marla winced at the girl's bad attempt at humor. She'd arrived early, hoping Amy would be on duty. Funny how the prospect of questioning a suspect propelled her out of bed in the morning. Maybe Ma was right, and she needed some spice in her life. So what if an amour wasn't the direction Marla wanted to go? Solving a murder served the same purpose: cozy up to the opposition; learn his secrets; eliminate conflicting viewpoints; and get to the climax. As simple as a haircut. Snip away those dead ends; blend the different layers; finish off the style. Real life wasn't so easy, though. Relationships required constant work, and murders didn't always offer simple solutions.

Tally breezed in, and the next few minutes were spent exchanging greetings and ordering snacks. Marla was relieved to see coffee on the menu. Amy gave her a paper cup, and she served herself from a large metal urn. Brown sugar was the only sweetener available. Tally ordered a raspberry sunrise fruit drink and chose a Clif Bar from a selection of packaged goods.

"It's similar to a granola bar," she said. "This tastes better and is loaded with protein and antioxidants."

"I'll have a bagel," Marla said to Amy. Breakfast was an important meal; she needed something substantial. "I was hoping to make an appointment with Tess, the ma.s.sage therapist. Have you met her?"

Amy leaned on the counter, her straight hair falling forward. "Several times. Tess hangs at the same club I do, down by the Strip."

"Are you two friends?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I wouldn't go that far. We've only exchanged a few words, and she doesn't come in here that often."

Marla took a sip of coffee, aware that Tally could overhear them from her seat at the table. "What about Slate? Don't they ever share the same time slot in the ma.s.sage suite?"

"Nah, Tess comes in during off hours."

"He seems reluctant to talk about her. I was wondering if they had anything going on."

Amy's expression grew stony. "He'd better not be seeing her, but I wouldn't put it past him. He chases after every skirt that walks through this door."

"I figured that was Keith's act. He put the moves on me the first day I met him. I think he really likes you, though."

"He can stuff it. Slate's the man for me, except he's too blind to see it."

"What would you say if I told you Slate not only knows Tess well, but she might be living with him?"

No wonder Tess had given Betsy's address. If Amy happened to see the staff roster, she'd notice Slate's street number. So Tess had given the address of her friend Betsy, instead.

"I don't believe you."

"I wanted to talk to Tess. She was at Slate's house, but I just missed her."

"There has to be a reason why she was there. Slate's a hormonal drone, but he wouldn't do it with that broad. Have you seen her? She's huge!" Her eyes narrowed, and she lowered her voice. "The jerk tried to hit on Jolene. I heard them. She told him off, but I don't think she meant it. Like she was playing hard to get, you know."

"Gloria told me you overheard Slate and Jolene arguing inside one of the ma.s.sage rooms. Did Jolene stay for the full hour of her appointment?"

A smug smile curved the girl's ruby lips. "No, she left early. I meant to follow her into the locker room to make sure she had no real interest in Slate, but Lindsay was just leaving and I needed to ask her something."

"So you didn't consider Jolene to be a rival at that point?"

"Honey, I consider everyone a rival who wears a dress, yourself included. You heed my warning, and stay away from Slate." Her gaze lifted. "There's Gloria. She's a first-cla.s.s b.i.t.c.h if ever you met one."

"Tell me about it."

"She was standing outside the door trying to hear what Jolene said to Slate. I could tell she was worried. Jolene knew things about Gloria that she doesn't want to get around."

A beefy man wearing denim shorts and a gray muscle shirt plopped his gym bag on a table and approached the counter. "Gimme a lemon twist, luv," he demanded, winking at Marla.

Raising an eyebrow, Marla turned away and joined Tally. Spreading cream cheese on her bagel, she related what she'd learned and brought her friend up to speed about Hortense.

"I'm concerned that Arnie might get hurt," she told Tally. "He's awed by her, but I know how deceiving appearances can be, having learned my own lesson the hard way. I'd rather know more about Hortense before he gets too involved."

"I thought you said she was attracted to Dalton."

"She played up to him, at least while we were discussing Jolene's case. Don't forget, she thinks Arnie is my fiance."

Tally's azure eyes danced with delight. "Man, I wish I'd been there!"

"I hope Ma doesn't hear the news. She's always liked Arnie. She'd be disappointed to learn it's a pretense. Would you believe I was afraid Eloise would tell people? I can't accept that she's missing. First Jolene dies, then Mrs. Zelman disappears. I never told you what happened in the parking lot the other night." Speaking rapidly, she related the incident.

Tally finished her Clif Bar. "Holy smokes, you don't suppose someone is knocking off your clients and having a swing at you because you make women look good, do you?"

"Who'd do that? A jealous wife?"

"Maybe an aging woman whose spouse won't look twice at her anymore because his head is distracted by other pretty faces."

"That's absurd."

"Yeah, but it's something to think about."

"Eloise fits that bill, but she's one of the victims."

"Were her remains found in that car?"

"I don't know. Dalton won't tell me anything."