house.
A strange noise bubbled from the old woman's throat, and Marla's breath caught. Was the old lady choking? Had she been damaged in a manner no one had noticed, like a rib puncturing her lungs? The matriarch waved an imperious arm, signaling Raoul to turn her around. When Marla faced her, she widened her eyes in disbelief. Miriam's face wore a broad grin!
"Come on, dearie, don't listen to them," Miriam said, cackling with glee. "I haven't had this much excitement in ages. Nor have my daughters paid me so much attention. I can tell being with you is going to be as good as taking a tonic." She giggled. "Hee, hee. Maybe I'll call one of my cronies after all. I've got to share this with someone."
Inside the house, Marla took charge. She stopped for a moment to brush debris off Miriam's pants and to straighten her sweater. Then she wheeled the old lady into a sunny parlor as directed, ignoring the feeling that hostile eyes followed her every movement.
----
*Chapter Six*
"I can't believe I was such a klutz," Marla said to Nicole at work on Tuesday morning. "Miriam has more spirit than I expected. I thought for sure she'd fire me."
"From what you've said, it sounds as though her relatives weren't too pleased." Nicole regarded her kindly as they shared a stolen moment together in the storeroom to scarf down some chocolate almond croissants Marla had brought.
"I didn't win any friends, but at least I was able to learn some new facts in the case." She gulped a sip of hot coffee. "Miriam didn't get along with her granddaughter. The sisters don't get along with each other, and Stella wants some family albums that are in Stanley's possession. Florence said something about Kim messing in things she didn't understand."
"Meaning?" Nicole licked a crumb off her mouth, a simple gesture as refined as the rest of her. Wearing a long-skirted jumper dress, she carried her tall, lithe figure with feline grace.
"I don't have a clue," Marla replied, wiping her fingers on a napkin. "She planned to leave Stan, but I don't think that's what Florence meant."
Nicole's eyes widened. "Why would she leave him if he was her sugar daddy?"
"Gary Waterford said Stan didn't treat Kim right. He implied Stan might react violently if he knew her plans."
"Did Stan mention this to you?"
"Of course not. It might give him a motive, although I've never known Stan to act physically in anger. He has a temper, but he lets loose his tongue, not his hand."
"Huh. What does Detective Vail think?"
"I haven't spoken to him. I tried to reach him yesterday but got his machine. I left a voice message, and he hasn't called back." She heard the forlorn note in her voice but couldn't help it. Apparently, Dalton wasn't interested in hearing her news.
Nicole tossed out their empty paper plates. "What's your next move?"
Marla scanned the shelves for the tube of Framesi color she required for her next customer. Spotting the right shade, she brought it to the sink. She squeezed the coloring agent into a bowl, added developer, and mixed the solution with a stiff brush.
"I tracked down Lacey Mills, who was Kim's friend. Gary gave me her name, but I'm not supposed to mention that I met him. I'm buying her drinks after work at Pebbles. The restaurant bar shouldn't be crowded on a Tuesday."
"If you learn anything exciting, you can tell Detective Vail tomorrow night. I'll bet he's waiting until he sees you in person to compare notes. In the meantime, good luck with Lacey!"
* * * *
When six-thirty rolled around, Marla found herself hanging at the restaurant bar watching for Kim's friend.
"Are you Marla Shore?" asked a twenty-something dyed blonde who wore her hair in an attractive layered cut. She flaunted her generous assets in a cashmere sweater and jeans that fit so snug they looked about to burst. "I'm Lacey."
Marla shook her hand, then indicated a pair of empty stools. They gave their drink orders before she got down to business. "I used to be