Free Murder by Manicure by Nancy J. Cohen

customers: Marla sounded them out, wanting her clients to leave the salon feeling that someone cared for them.
    When she thought about it, Jolene had sported a more taciturn air in recent weeks. Maybe something had been bothering her. Could she have confided in that masseuse, Tesla? Harboring a sense of obligation to her former client, Marla vowed to find out. Her heartbeat accelerated at the potential for another investigation. All right, Ma, so you were right. I've been on a downer since the holidays were over. Looking for action is better than looking for gray hairs.
    "Marla, what's on your mind?” Vail asked, while peering at her suspiciously.
    Her cheeks suffused with color. What could she say to distract him? Dalton wouldn't approve of her plans regarding Jolene's case. Didn't she have another reason for stopping by besides collecting payment for Brianna's costume deposit? Oh, yes. There was that second matter to discuss with him.
    Swallowing hard, she replied. “Uh, Dalton, there's a favor I have to ask you. Are you busy Saturday night?"
    "Why?"
    Damn his inquisitive mind. Clearing her throat, Marla twirled a section of hair. “I really hope you're free, because I'm kind of helping a friend, and we need your cooperation.” She glanced away from his keen scrutiny.
    "Which friend?” he demanded in a gruff tone.
    "Arnie Hartman. He got himself into a situation where, you know, a former classmate thinks we're engaged.” The last words gushed from her mouth, and she blanched when she saw Vail's expression.
    "What?"
    "Arnie was trying to get rid of Hortense. She'd been living out of town and he hadn't seen her in years. When she called, he panicked. The gal had a crush on him in high school, and he remembered her as a real hag.” Her lips curved upward as she recalled Arnie's reaction to Hortense's transformation.
    "I don't get it, Marla. How does Hortense believe Arnie is your—"
    "Fiancé?” Marla swallowed. “He told her on the telephone. When she said she was coming over, Arnie rushed to the salon and begged me to play along. He didn't count on Hortense being a beauty, and now he wishes he'd eaten his words. His idea is for us to double date. Eventually Arnie and I will supposedly have a fight and break off our engagement. But in the meantime, you can join us ostensibly as Hortense's date. Arnie knows you'll pay attention to me, so he figures he'll win Hortense's affections."
    Marla couldn't meet his reproving gaze. In the ensuing silence, she wondered how she'd gotten herself into another pickle. If you'd stay away from men, you wouldn't have such complications, she told herself. Was it worth the aggravation?
    Risking a glance in Vail's direction, she felt her knees weaken. Hell yes, it was worth everything to get a man to look at her that way. Now if only she could redeem herself in his eyes.
    "Very well,” he said, taking a ragged breath. Being with her had an effect on him, too, she noticed smugly. “Saturday night I'm to date this hag, as you called her?"
    "She's very attractive,” Marla reassured him. “A real looker. It won't be such a chore."
    "You'll owe me. Big time."
    "Arnie and I will both be very grateful."
    "I don't give a shit about Arnie. Your reputation is what matters. I know how hard you've worked to establish yourself. Does anyone else know about this?"
    "Arnie said word might get around. Hortense likes to talk."
    He rolled his eyes. “Great. Then we'll just have to give people something else to talk about."
    "We will?"
    "You bet.” He rose from his chair and closed the distance between them.
    Marla sprang to her feet, facing him while her knees threatened to buckle. When he got near enough for her to sniff his spice cologne, her heart began a jackhammer rhythm.
    "Let's start the gossip going,” he said huskily. Darting a glance at the open doorway, he pulled her into his arms. His mouth descended, and he gave her a bruising, possessive kiss.
    "Tongues will wag,” Marla whispered