Intracoastal.
Facing Stan inside the marble-tiled foyer, she regarded her ex-spouse with wary eyes. He looked dapper in a three-piece wool suit, his black hair slicked off a wide forehead. Instead of his usual supercilious grin, however, his face wore a sad smile. _Don't let him get to you,_ she warned herself.
"Thanks for meeting me here," she said. "I'd like to see those albums you mentioned."
"They're in the family room. Follow me." On the way, he checked his watch. "I can't stay long. I have a three-thirty appointment."
"That's fine. Detective Vail showed me the photograph you found in Kim's bedroom." Marla trailed him down a hallway to a family room brightly decorated in southwestern motif. Sofas upholstered in chili and turquoise accents, a handwoven wool rug with a Pueblo scene, Native American framed art, and mauve sandpainted vase lamps highlighted the room. _It's certainly different than the classic mahogany furniture you favored when we were married._ Marrying Kimberly must have cost him plenty.
Stan sank heavily onto a couch. "I think that picture fell from one of these albums," he said, pointing to several books scattered on a pine table.
"Which one was Kim most interested in?" She thumbed through an album showing Kim as a baby. The edges were brown, and many of the photos had become dislodged from the sticky backing.
"Try the red book," Stan suggested. "Stella wants to redo them, something about acid- and lignin-free paper. I won't let her have them until the investigation is complete. Florence keeps nagging me."
"Maybe there is something here that Kim's family doesn't want you to see." Putting the first book down, she picked up the red one. It weighed heavily on her thighs as she opened the volume. Inside, younger versions of Morris, Stella, and Florence smiled from photographs capturing their carefree swimming pool days. Miriam posed proudly beside her husband Harris in a tropical setting beside a lake.
Flipping through the pages, Marla stopped when she came to a blank space fitting the dimensions of the photo Vail had shown her. "Look," she cried triumphantly.
"What is it?"
"This must be where that picture fell from. Who's this woman next to Harris? It's not Miriam." She reversed the book so Stan could see. The photo showed Harris with his arm around a slender, flame-haired girl. A later grouping showed the woman, having aged, smiling sadly at the camera next to a young boy who bore a strong resemblance to the man Kim called Uncle Jerry. It appeared as though there might have been someone else on the other side of her, but the picture had been cropped.
Stan shrugged. His gesture moved her glance to his shoulders, where she noticed flecks of dandruff. "I don't know who the redhead is, although she does look somewhat familiar."
"Wasn't Kim working on her genealogy?"
"You're right. She bought one of those computer programs to research her family tree."
"Can you access the program? Or maybe she left notes."
"I'll check into it when I have time."
"Will you please stop rapping your fingers on that table? The sound is annoying."
He threw her an irritated look. "You're here to help me, not to criticize."
"I can't concentrate when you insist on making noises."
"You never used to be this way when we were married. Never." His brows drew together in a disapproving scowl.
"I was afraid to open my mouth for fear you'd put me down."
"You needed my guidance, just as you need it now. Let me offer you a tidbit of information. I heard Carolyn Sutton is planning to open a salon in the same shopping strip at the other end from yours."
Tossing the albums on the table, Marla leapt up. "You're lying! Carolyn can't afford to open a business in Palm Haven. The last time I visited her salon, it was Deadsville. Who'd buy that place in such a seedy neighborhood? And, if she's been hurting for business, how can she afford to change locations?"
"Maybe she has financial support," Stan said with
Facing Stan inside the marble-tiled foyer, she regarded her ex-spouse with wary eyes. He looked dapper in a three-piece wool suit, his black hair slicked off a wide forehead. Instead of his usual supercilious grin, however, his face wore a sad smile. _Don't let him get to you,_ she warned herself.
"Thanks for meeting me here," she said. "I'd like to see those albums you mentioned."
"They're in the family room. Follow me." On the way, he checked his watch. "I can't stay long. I have a three-thirty appointment."
"That's fine. Detective Vail showed me the photograph you found in Kim's bedroom." Marla trailed him down a hallway to a family room brightly decorated in southwestern motif. Sofas upholstered in chili and turquoise accents, a handwoven wool rug with a Pueblo scene, Native American framed art, and mauve sandpainted vase lamps highlighted the room. _It's certainly different than the classic mahogany furniture you favored when we were married._ Marrying Kimberly must have cost him plenty.
Stan sank heavily onto a couch. "I think that picture fell from one of these albums," he said, pointing to several books scattered on a pine table.
"Which one was Kim most interested in?" She thumbed through an album showing Kim as a baby. The edges were brown, and many of the photos had become dislodged from the sticky backing.
"Try the red book," Stan suggested. "Stella wants to redo them, something about acid- and lignin-free paper. I won't let her have them until the investigation is complete. Florence keeps nagging me."
"Maybe there is something here that Kim's family doesn't want you to see." Putting the first book down, she picked up the red one. It weighed heavily on her thighs as she opened the volume. Inside, younger versions of Morris, Stella, and Florence smiled from photographs capturing their carefree swimming pool days. Miriam posed proudly beside her husband Harris in a tropical setting beside a lake.
Flipping through the pages, Marla stopped when she came to a blank space fitting the dimensions of the photo Vail had shown her. "Look," she cried triumphantly.
"What is it?"
"This must be where that picture fell from. Who's this woman next to Harris? It's not Miriam." She reversed the book so Stan could see. The photo showed Harris with his arm around a slender, flame-haired girl. A later grouping showed the woman, having aged, smiling sadly at the camera next to a young boy who bore a strong resemblance to the man Kim called Uncle Jerry. It appeared as though there might have been someone else on the other side of her, but the picture had been cropped.
Stan shrugged. His gesture moved her glance to his shoulders, where she noticed flecks of dandruff. "I don't know who the redhead is, although she does look somewhat familiar."
"Wasn't Kim working on her genealogy?"
"You're right. She bought one of those computer programs to research her family tree."
"Can you access the program? Or maybe she left notes."
"I'll check into it when I have time."
"Will you please stop rapping your fingers on that table? The sound is annoying."
He threw her an irritated look. "You're here to help me, not to criticize."
"I can't concentrate when you insist on making noises."
"You never used to be this way when we were married. Never." His brows drew together in a disapproving scowl.
"I was afraid to open my mouth for fear you'd put me down."
"You needed my guidance, just as you need it now. Let me offer you a tidbit of information. I heard Carolyn Sutton is planning to open a salon in the same shopping strip at the other end from yours."
Tossing the albums on the table, Marla leapt up. "You're lying! Carolyn can't afford to open a business in Palm Haven. The last time I visited her salon, it was Deadsville. Who'd buy that place in such a seedy neighborhood? And, if she's been hurting for business, how can she afford to change locations?"
"Maybe she has financial support," Stan said with
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