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Marla told Dalton about her conversation with Janet when he returned home later that night. He looked haggard, and she didn’t care to bother him about it, but she had to get things off her mind. She waited until he’d showered and crawled into bed before speaking in a soft voice. Brianna had already gone to sleep in her room down the hallway.
“You won’t care if I visit Francine’s offices, will you? That’s one avenue I’ve been neglecting, and yet those people must know something.”
He rolled sideways in bed and leaned on an elbow to regard her. A lock of silver-streaked black hair, still damp, flopped onto his forehead. “We haven’t recovered any information about the article she’d been working on before she died. You’re welcome to have a go at it.”
“Did you interview Lynette Wilde? She seems to be a key figure.”
“Yes, she’s editorial director now that Francine is gone. She’d seemed happy regarding the promotion but sad by the way it occurred. I wouldn’t say she considered Francine a rival. Francine’s colleagues respected her and appear to genuinely miss her presence.”
“I can visit them tomorrow morning. It’ll be Thursday, my late day at work. I can’t believe how fast this week is going. Did you ever hear who claimed Francine’s body? No one’s mentioned a memorial service.”
“Her parents aren’t living, and she had no siblings. A sister existed once, but she died. I believe a distant aunt decided upon cremation and took responsibility.”
“That’s sad. Colin might have stepped forward and done something.”
“He’s not a blood relative. Kinship comes first. Francine must have lived a lonely life without any close family.” Dalton trailed his finger up her arm. Her skin tingled in its wake.
“She may have had a lot of friends if she was a social person,” Marla suggested.
“That’s true. So Janet had no clue as to what Francine’s article included?”
“We didn’t talk about it. She’s more worried about Tony’s relatives coming to visit, and apparently, so is he.”
“I’ll have to do more research into his company. That reminds me; I might want us to take a trip this weekend.”
“Oh yeah?” She found it difficult to concentrate when his hand roamed to her lower regions.
“I’ve discovered a connection between Kinsdale Farms and a plot of land in northern Florida. It’s an olive grove owned by Zach’s cousin, Ben.”
“And this is important because...?”
“Tony sells imported olive oil to Zach’s farm. Francine may have been researching a hot topic that got her killed. Janet told you Tony’s relatives heard her name on the phone and made plans to visit. I’m sniffing a skunk here.”
“So why would this cousin know any more than we do?”
He shrugged, drawing her gaze to his broad shoulders. She never failed to admire his manly form, especially when he was bare-chested like now.
His mouth curved at her glance. “It’s just a hunch. If Brie is free, we can make a weekend trip of it and pretend to be tourists interested in the industry.”
“Okay, but we’ll have to drive up on Sunday, unless I can leave work early the day before. My Saturdays are always booked.”
“That’s fine,” he murmured, snuggling closer as all thoughts of their plans fled her head.
****
On Thursday morning, Marla headed north to Boca Raton. Traffic was fairly light on the turnpike after rush hour. She’d done a few errands first, so it was nearly ten-thirty by the time she reached the offices of Eat Well Now magazine.
Inside the lobby, she gave her name to the receptionist and asked to speak to Lynette Wilde. Without having an appointment, she had to wait a good twenty minutes before being greeted by the thirtyish brunette.
“Hi, I’m Lynette. How can I help you?” Her keen brown eyes regarded Marla with mild curiosity as she offered a handshake. Marla liked the ivory top and cocoa skirt ensemble she wore along with matching pumps. Soft layered waves of hair framed her angular face.
“I was a contestant at the bake-off contest where Francine... you know. I’m the one who found her.”
Lynette cast a glance at the receptionist before gesturing for Marla to follow her. “Come inside to my office. We can speak privately there.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about your publication,” Marla began once they were seated inside a glass-walled enclave. Lynette sat behind a wooden desk in a leather swivel chair. “Did Francine work her way up the ranks, or did she come in as publisher?”
Lynette folded her hands on the desk. “May I ask what your interest is in our internal affairs?”
“My husband is Detective Dalton Vail. You may have spoken to him when he visited your offices. We’re hoping to learn what article Francine had been meaning to publish. Her research might have upset someone enough to kill her.”
“Well then, I’ll tell you what I told the detective. Francine worked her way up from editorial assistant. She was dedicated to her job and to our magazine’s philosophy. Everyone admired her work ethic and her devotion.”
“Was she a proponent of healthy eating like your publication advises?” Marla asked.
“Yes, Francine believed in the ‘what you eat is what you are’ adage. She wasn’t a vegan or a food fanatic, but she believed in healthy choices.”
“So Francine ranked above everyone else?”
“That’s right. She was a good boss. No one had any problems with her.”
“What was your job before you moved up?”
Lynette studied her fingernails, painted a vibrant coral. “I was features editor.”
“Did you actively seek a promotion, or was the offer unexpected? And who made that decision?”
“We’re owned by a conglomerate. Their president approached me. It came as a surprise.”
“Do you know what Francine had been working on besides her usual pieces?”
“She rarely wrote articles anymore in her position as editorial director. Her job was more management-oriented. But she did mention farm accidents at one time. That kind of startled me because it seemed a diversion from our purpose. Francine said fatalities happened all the time on farms, and no one knew about them. It could have been a topic she’d heard about in the news, because she didn’t say anything about writing an article on the subject.”
“Did she associate Kinsdale Farms with any specific incidents?”
Lynette shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
“Could this be the exposé she’d intended to publish?” Marla persisted. “Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that she entered the bake-off contest.”
“You mean, she wanted to check out the farm while there? I suppose it’s possible.”
“What did Francine plan on doing with the cash reward if she won? She had to present a business proposal for approval by the contest committee.”
Lynette glanced toward the door. “Please keep this quiet, but our magazine’s readership has been eroding. It could be she was afraid of losing her job. Maybe she hoped to invest the money in our publication to take control.”
“She’d need a big nest egg to buy out the magazine,” Marla noted.
“Or maybe she meant to broaden our scope. She had talked about our team doing more in-depth investigative articles.”
“You could be right. If your publication expanded its focus, a new direction could reverse the slide. She may have been researching the first piece on her own.”
“The cops took her hard drive. Have they found anything there?”
“Dalton isn’t sharing that information.” Marla shifted her position along with her focus. “Is there anyone you can think of who might have wanted to harm your former boss? Was there somebody she’d fired who might have held a grudge against her, or a person whose work contributions she had overlooked?”
“Not really. Francine had her occasional scrapes but mostly she got along with everyone. I understand she had a boyfriend. Did your husband check him out?”
“He’s a potential person of interest. He might have attended a memorial service, had there been one.”
Lynette’s gaze saddened. “I was surprised to hear an aunt came forward to claim the body. Francine had a sister who died when they were young, and her parents were deceased. It’s too bad she didn’t have more relatives.”
“Likely she had enough friends to make up for it. Speaking of acquaintances, another contestant at the bake-off told me she’d seen you at the festival talking to Alyce Greene. I didn’t realize you’d attended.”
Then again, how had Teri known the other woman was Lynette Wilde? Had they met earlier? Or had someone else identified Lynette?
“Francine had told me about the fair, and it sounded like fun,” Lynette said, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “She’d introduced me to Alyce a while back. The two of them believed that growing sustainable food was important to people’s well-being.”
“Were you present for the bake-off contest?”
“I didn’t buy a plate and fork, if that’s what you mean. I waited to greet Francine later, but she’d disappeared. Then I ran into Alyce and we spoke for a few minutes.”
“Was this before the judges announced the winners?”
“That’s right.”
“Did Alyce seem okay? Not out of breath or anything?”
“No, she looked fine. Why would that matter?”
“I’m just trying to fit the pieces together of what happened that day. Did you notice Francine wearing Alyce’s jacket earlier? She’d been cold, and Alyce loaned it to her.”
Lynette gave her an impatient glance. “No, I’m sorry. Is that significant?”
“It could be. At first, I’d wondered if the bad guy got the wrong person. Maybe he’d meant to knock Alyce on the head, and when he failed, he went after her a second time. Otherwise, Alyce might have learned something new about the case that made her a target.”
“I didn’t want to believe it when I heard the news about Alyce. Are we in danger, too?” Lynette asked, echoing what Janet had suggested earlier. “The killer might think Francine told us what she’d been working on, if it’s related.”
“Or her proposed article may have had nothing to do with her death. We need more information before making that determination. Is there any detail you can add that might seem unimportant?”
Lynette pushed to her feet, her expression indicating dismissal. “I’ve told you all I know, and your husband before this. Will you keep me informed if anything new surfaces? We’re going about our business as usual, but we’re all upset.”
“Of course.” They exchanged business cards, and Marla took her leave.
So what had she gained? She reviewed their conversation on her way to work. People had liked Francine. Nobody held a grudge against her or wanted her job. She had mentioned farm accidents, though. Could she have been reviewing the records from Kinsdale Farms and came across something damaging to them? Or maybe she’d discovered who actually owned the title if it wasn’t Zach and his siblings.
Marla stopped by Bagel Busters to order a takeout sandwich for lunch. Arnie waved at her from behind the cash register as she approached. He wore his usual apron over a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.
“Hey, pal. Business seems to be hopping,” she said to him with a smile. Not an empty seat was to be seen. Locals liked the menu and the reasonable prices. Smells of corned beef and pickles wafted her way as a waitress strode by carrying a laden tray.
Arnie came around the counter to embrace her. His moustache tickled her cheek. “Good to see you, as always. Have you come to give me a report on your investigation?”
“Actually, I came to order lunch. Can you get me a turkey delight to go? Just the sandwich and nothing on the side.”
“Sure. Hey, Ruth!” Arnie shouted the order to a familiar server and then called over another staff member to man the cashier desk. “So, did you talk to Rory? What did he say?”
“Dalton and I have spoken to a lot of people about the case.” Marla gave him a quick rundown of the findings that Dalton had said she could share.
“Wow, that’s a lot to take in.” His somber face regarded her. “Do you really feel Zach is hiding something about the farm? Damn, Rory was right then.”
“Has he mentioned any incidents relating to their labor force? As in, accidents involving tractors or silos?”
“No, but he said it’s hazardous work. Any job involving machinery can be dangerous.” Arnie gestured toward their meat-cutting machine. “Heck, we could easily slice off a finger if we’re not careful.”
“Dalton is still looking into the land title. It’s troubling that Zach can’t produce a deed with his family’s name on it.”
“I hope for Rory’s sake that his dad is not involved in Francine’s murder.”
Standing in a corner, she patted his arm. “Don’t worry, we have lots of other suspects. And now with Alyce dead, the plot thickens. Was she meant to be a target in the first place? Or did she learn what Francine knew, making her a fresh threat to the killer?”
“You’ve done as I asked, Marla. Now be careful and stay out of trouble,” Arnie advised.
“I will. On a lighter note, our salon is planning a bad hair day clinic as a fundraiser in conjunction with the history museum. The curator is working with us, as is Janet Winters.”
His eyes rounded. “Janet is Rory’s aunt. Why would she get involved?”
Marla explained the function. “Janet and Robyn from the salon are doing publicity. Teri from the chocolate factory is donating desserts. Would you like to contribute appetizers? We’ll add your deli to the flyers if you’re interested in joining us.”
“Sure, I’d love to participate. We can supply whatever you need.”
She informed him of the date and details. “This brings to mind another issue I’ve been considering.” Shifting her feet, she put her weight onto her other leg. “Tally has signed a letter of agreement on a new location for her dress boutique. Once she moves her stock out of my lounge, it’ll clear the space for another purpose.”
“Like what? You had coffee set up in there before you added her fashion line. The latter is still a good idea, by the way. Maybe Tally will let you keep a few items to sell there.”
Marla plunged ahead with her proposal. “I’ve wanted to offer lunch to our day spa guests so they’ll stay longer, but I don’t want to steal business from your place. It’s silly for me to offer meals when your deli is next door. So how about if you supply us with ready-made sandwiches and salads each day? And muffins or Danish for mid-morning that we can offer for sale?”
He stroked his moustache. “Next you’ll want a wine bar. That’s all the rage, you know.”
“No, thanks. I wrote up a business proposal for the bake-off contest. I’ll email it so you can see what I had in mind. The changes don’t have to be that extensive, since we won’t be preparing the food, but I’d like for you to be involved.”
He gave her a bow. “I’d be honored. Oh, I think your lunch is ready,” he said, indicating a brown bag by the cash register. They exchanged a few more words before Marla paid her tab and left.
Nicole accosted Marla at the salon. The other stylist was waiting for her next customer. “Hey, girlfriend, what’s up? You haven’t filled me in on your latest case.”
“It’s Dalton’s case, not mine.” Marla tucked her purse inside a drawer at her station and plugged in her implements. She sniffed the usual mixture of chemical solutions and hair spray with a sense of pleasure. The splash of water in the background competed with the soft music on their speaker system.
Nicole smirked at her. “Since when? You’re more of an unofficial deputy these days.”
“Don’t let his captain hear you say that. I was just speaking to Arnie. I asked him if he’d supply snacks for sale in our day spa so customers won’t leave if they get hungry.”
“What about your grand plan to construct a lunch counter?”
“We’ll offer prepared foods sourced by the deli instead. I wish we had more space. Arnie suggested we keep some of Tally’s fashions to sell. They have been a popular item.”
“You could sell accessories instead of the whole line. Add a few display cases for jewelry, scarves, and handbags. Other salons offer more than hair products. We could include holiday gift baskets, too.”
Marla gave a weary sigh. “It’s a good thing I didn’t win the prize at the bake-off contest. Remodeling is a nightmare, and we have limited space available.”
“It would be handy if we could eliminate the wall between the salon and day spa.”
“The landlord won’t permit it,” Marla reminded her friend. “You’re right about the accessories, though. Those could be fun to sell here. I’ll talk to Tally about it.” A twinge of queasiness hit her stomach. “I’d better eat. I haven’t had anything since this morning.”
Nicole followed her into the back storeroom. “I noticed how you changed the subject away from the murders. What’s going on in that regard?”
Marla drew a stool over to the counter, sat on the vinyl seat, and unwrapped her sandwich. After taking a few bites, she said, “We have some promising leads, but nobody stands out as the main suspect.”
“Who do you have so far? In the mystery novel I just finished, the guilty party was the business partner.”
A frown creased Marla’s brow. “I visited Francine’s office this morning. People there seemed to like her. The current editorial director, Lynette Wilde, said she didn’t know anyone who might have held a grudge against Francine. I don’t believe she’d knock off the woman to gain her position, either. Hmm, she did mention a conglomerate that owned the publication.”
“Oh? I’d gotten the impression Francine was in charge.”
“She directed their day-to-day operations, but I guess she answered to a higher boss. I’ll have to see if Dalton knows who it is. Lynette said the cops took Francine’s hard drive. No one knew what article she’d been researching, but it would help if we could find out. The magazine’s readership has been declining, and they need the boost that an exposé might provide. Lynette thinks Francine meant to broaden their scope with more investigative-type pieces.”
“What would Francine have used the prize money for if she’d won the contest?”
“Lynette theorized that Francine would have made an offer to buy the magazine from the conglomerate that owns it. Dalton has access to her business plan. I’ll ask him about her intentions.”
“Did Francine ever have a funeral? You could have attended and met everyone there.”
Marla got a can of cola from the fridge and popped the lid. She took a few sips of the cold beverage before answering. “No; her body was released to some aunt who lives elsewhere. She didn’t have any close relatives. We did meet her weird boyfriend, though.” She told Nicole about that incident, grinning at her friend’s horrified expression.
“Holy highlights, Dalton could have been seriously harmed by drinking that stuff.”
“Fortunately, he’s okay. I’m lucky Colin didn’t let me drink it. He assigned me the job of sitter, which meant watching over the group. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, they were all gone.” She jabbed a finger at Nicole. “I wonder if Dalton could get them on assault of a police officer.”
“He was off-duty, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, but he’d identified himself. It would be a good excuse to bring Colin in for more questioning.” She resisted the urge to yank out her cell phone and text her husband. There wasn’t time now. She’d better finish her sandwich before her first client arrived. “What are your plans for the weekend? Are you seeing Kevin again?” Nicole had been dating the hunky paramedic who worked for the fire department for over a year now.
Nicole’s eyes turned the color of warm honey. “Can you keep a secret? I’ve been spending weekends at his place.”
“No kidding? This is getting serious. Why haven’t you told me before now?”
“You’ve had other things on your mind.”
Marla clapped her hands. “I’m excited for you. You two make such a great couple. I knew you would hit it off when I introduced you.”
“Enough about my personal life. What’s your next step in crime-solving?”
“Dalton wants to take a drive north on Sunday. He says the Kinsdales have a cousin in central Florida who owns an olive grove. This man might be able to give us some answers.”
Nicole chuckled, a low throaty sound. “Sounds like a good excuse for a day trip. Relax and enjoy the outing. Temps are supposed to be in the seventies. Take advantage of the good weather while it lasts.”
Marla should heed her words. Even though the winter months could bring cold air to South Florida, a new hurricane season was always around the next corner... same as the killer in their latest crime case.