took a sip from a ceramic mug. _Just right,_ she thought approvingly.
Grunting, Vail sat opposite her. "That's what I was going to call you about when you got me on the phone. We've identified the weapon that killed Ben Kline. It's from a knife collection belonging to Darren Shapiro."
Marla gasped. "A knife? I thought you said Ben had been bludgeoned to death."
"Just so."
She considered that a moment. "Whose prints were on the weapon?"
His eyes chilled. "I can't provide any further details."
"You mean you won't. I'm involved in this case, too. If you would share information with me, I might be able to help. For example, I might tell you about the medical waste polluting the mangrove preserve next to Cynthia's house. It may be connected to Ben's murder."
His jaw clenched. "I told you about the weapon and warned you about the board members."
"So you did. I imagine you must have found something at the crime scene relating to Ocean Guard. Otherwise, why would you advise me to be cautious?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, aware of his eyes following her movements.
"Papers relating to the group were strewn across the floor, some of them smeared with blood. It's my opinion someone was searching through them. Not that it proves anything, but that narrows the field." He took a noisy gulp of coffee, then intensified his gaze. "What's this about medical waste? Don't you have enough sense not to go snooping?"
"I wasn't snooping," she retorted, bristling with anger. "My cousin, Cynthia, invited me to her house and showed me the pollution. We're both committed to making Taste of the World a successful event, and someone is trying to stop us. I won't quit at the first sign of trouble."
Scraping back his chair, Vail stood. "Trouble? There's already been one murder, and you've found a dead duck on your doorstep. If you had an ounce of sense in your head, you'd accept this break-in as another warning. Maybe the killer is someone familiar who doesn't want to hurt you, unless you fail to back off."
Her eyes blazing, Marla leapt to her feet. "I'll never give up my job with the chefs. Cynthia is counting on me. Whoever is hindering us just better watch out."
"I may not be around the next time you need me."
She couldn't believe her ears. Now he sounded just like Stan. "Excuse me? I can take care of myself, thank you. It so happened I needed a police report in case I have to make an insurance claim. That's the only reason why I called you."
He smirked. "You can let yourself believe that if you want, but I know differently." His expression softening, he stepped closer. "Seriously, Marla, I'm worried about you."
His concern melted her anger. "I'm a big girl. I'll be all right. But you might consider trusting me a bit more. Your case could progress faster if you accepted my input."
"Not when you place yourself in danger. Be on the alert until I see you Saturday. Brianna is looking forward to meeting you."
Marla breathed a sigh of relief when he left. His visit had brought escalating tension instead of the calm she sought.
Ignoring Vail's advice, she went to see Darren on Friday after work. Although she was in a rush to get ready for her date with David, she could spare time for a detour. These activities related to the fund-raiser were consuming all her free hours, she realized with a flush of guilt. When was the last time she'd called Tally, or any of her other friends?
_Stop kvetching!_ Marla told herself as she approached Darren's house, a ranch-style structure located in an upscale neighborhood. _You're doing this for Cynthia. She needs you._
Yeah, right. And how much of it was to prove her own worth?
An attractive brunette holding an oven mitt swung open the door after Marla rang the bell. "Yes?"
"Hi, I'm Marla Shore," she said, smiling. "I work on the committee for Taste of the World with Darren, and I'd like to ask him a few questions if he's available."
"All right," the woman said
Grunting, Vail sat opposite her. "That's what I was going to call you about when you got me on the phone. We've identified the weapon that killed Ben Kline. It's from a knife collection belonging to Darren Shapiro."
Marla gasped. "A knife? I thought you said Ben had been bludgeoned to death."
"Just so."
She considered that a moment. "Whose prints were on the weapon?"
His eyes chilled. "I can't provide any further details."
"You mean you won't. I'm involved in this case, too. If you would share information with me, I might be able to help. For example, I might tell you about the medical waste polluting the mangrove preserve next to Cynthia's house. It may be connected to Ben's murder."
His jaw clenched. "I told you about the weapon and warned you about the board members."
"So you did. I imagine you must have found something at the crime scene relating to Ocean Guard. Otherwise, why would you advise me to be cautious?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, aware of his eyes following her movements.
"Papers relating to the group were strewn across the floor, some of them smeared with blood. It's my opinion someone was searching through them. Not that it proves anything, but that narrows the field." He took a noisy gulp of coffee, then intensified his gaze. "What's this about medical waste? Don't you have enough sense not to go snooping?"
"I wasn't snooping," she retorted, bristling with anger. "My cousin, Cynthia, invited me to her house and showed me the pollution. We're both committed to making Taste of the World a successful event, and someone is trying to stop us. I won't quit at the first sign of trouble."
Scraping back his chair, Vail stood. "Trouble? There's already been one murder, and you've found a dead duck on your doorstep. If you had an ounce of sense in your head, you'd accept this break-in as another warning. Maybe the killer is someone familiar who doesn't want to hurt you, unless you fail to back off."
Her eyes blazing, Marla leapt to her feet. "I'll never give up my job with the chefs. Cynthia is counting on me. Whoever is hindering us just better watch out."
"I may not be around the next time you need me."
She couldn't believe her ears. Now he sounded just like Stan. "Excuse me? I can take care of myself, thank you. It so happened I needed a police report in case I have to make an insurance claim. That's the only reason why I called you."
He smirked. "You can let yourself believe that if you want, but I know differently." His expression softening, he stepped closer. "Seriously, Marla, I'm worried about you."
His concern melted her anger. "I'm a big girl. I'll be all right. But you might consider trusting me a bit more. Your case could progress faster if you accepted my input."
"Not when you place yourself in danger. Be on the alert until I see you Saturday. Brianna is looking forward to meeting you."
Marla breathed a sigh of relief when he left. His visit had brought escalating tension instead of the calm she sought.
Ignoring Vail's advice, she went to see Darren on Friday after work. Although she was in a rush to get ready for her date with David, she could spare time for a detour. These activities related to the fund-raiser were consuming all her free hours, she realized with a flush of guilt. When was the last time she'd called Tally, or any of her other friends?
_Stop kvetching!_ Marla told herself as she approached Darren's house, a ranch-style structure located in an upscale neighborhood. _You're doing this for Cynthia. She needs you._
Yeah, right. And how much of it was to prove her own worth?
An attractive brunette holding an oven mitt swung open the door after Marla rang the bell. "Yes?"
"Hi, I'm Marla Shore," she said, smiling. "I work on the committee for Taste of the World with Darren, and I'd like to ask him a few questions if he's available."
"All right," the woman said
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