learning more about animal products and testing than she'd ever wanted to know. She bit her lower lip, focusing her thoughts. “If someone wanted to do Jolene harm, who would be the first person you'd suspect?"
"Other than me?” Cookie snickered. “There are too many candidates. Maybe whoever had been selling her the better test results got spooked they'd be discovered. Or Eloise found out Sam was fooling around with Jolene. Amy at the club was angry at her for taking Slate's attention away. Even Gloria complained about her. As I said, Jolene got what she deserved."
Chapter Eight
"Will you let me know if you learn anything more about Jolene's affairs, business or otherwise?” Marla asked Cookie.
"Why should I?” Rising, Cookie tossed her sticky dish into a trash can.
Marla discarded her sundae cup. “If you keep me informed, I'll check my inventory at the salon to see if our products comply with SETA's recommendations."
Cookie gave her a considering look. “I didn't realize Jolene was such a close friend.” Her tone implied the woman couldn't possibly have had anyone who cared so much about her.
"I don't believe she drowned accidentally. Jolene was a mensch, you know what I mean? She had a good head on her shoulders. Jolene wouldn't have taken something that made her sleepy when she still had to drive home."
Cookie's eyes narrowed. “Cough it up, Marla.” Marla sighed. “Jolene had sedatives in her blood. She ingested a drug about an hour before she died."
Cookie didn't answer immediately. “I'll call you,” she promised quietly, making Marla believe Cookie might have some redeeming qualities after all.
Her next action refuted that thought. Reaching forward, Cookie grabbed the glass sugar container from their table and loosened the metal lid. “The next person who puts sugar in his coffee will get a surprise,” Cookie said, a mischievous grin on her face. “Something I learned in high school. Refined sugar is bad for you anyway."
* * * *
Marla was unable to follow up on any of the loose ends nagging at her until later in the week. Work and chores kept her occupied, including buying a new tire for the Camry.
Friday after work, she put aside time to accomplish one task. Fortunately, she remembered the address for Tesla, the massage therapist, thanks to Vail, who had shown her the list of sports club staff members in his office. Now she could at least check this trail to see if it led to Jolene. Vail might have already investigated this angle, but she had an advantage over him. A woman was more likely to confide in a hairdresser than in a cop.
Her car's clock read six-thirty, meaning she had less than an hour before Eddie, Nicole's boyfriend, started barbecuing jerk chicken for a get-together at his house. Hopefully, Tess would be home if she hadn't yet gone out for the weekend.
Driving through an older section of Plantation near Fig Tree Lane, Marla admired the spreading banyan trees that shaded the streets. The lots extended well away from the road. From the house numbers, she surmised Tesla's place was the lemon yellow cottage with white shutters just ahead. She'd pulled along the curb and put her hand on the gear shift when a movement caught her attention. Someone was leaving the yellow house. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a vibrantly colored kerchief dress, the lady wobbled on high heels toward a dark-green Buick parked in the short driveway. Squinting, Marla tried to get a better view in the encroaching darkness.
Two choices confronted her. She could approach the house and knock on the door. If Tess was inside, her patience would be rewarded. But if this person leaving was Tess, maybe Marla should follow her.
Have some saichel, she told herself. Good sense mandated that she continue with her original plan. Waiting until the visitor left, Marla studied the house. Weeds had overgrown the front lawn. A sodden newspaper in a plastic bag lay on the swale, victim of an early-morning
"Other than me?” Cookie snickered. “There are too many candidates. Maybe whoever had been selling her the better test results got spooked they'd be discovered. Or Eloise found out Sam was fooling around with Jolene. Amy at the club was angry at her for taking Slate's attention away. Even Gloria complained about her. As I said, Jolene got what she deserved."
Chapter Eight
"Will you let me know if you learn anything more about Jolene's affairs, business or otherwise?” Marla asked Cookie.
"Why should I?” Rising, Cookie tossed her sticky dish into a trash can.
Marla discarded her sundae cup. “If you keep me informed, I'll check my inventory at the salon to see if our products comply with SETA's recommendations."
Cookie gave her a considering look. “I didn't realize Jolene was such a close friend.” Her tone implied the woman couldn't possibly have had anyone who cared so much about her.
"I don't believe she drowned accidentally. Jolene was a mensch, you know what I mean? She had a good head on her shoulders. Jolene wouldn't have taken something that made her sleepy when she still had to drive home."
Cookie's eyes narrowed. “Cough it up, Marla.” Marla sighed. “Jolene had sedatives in her blood. She ingested a drug about an hour before she died."
Cookie didn't answer immediately. “I'll call you,” she promised quietly, making Marla believe Cookie might have some redeeming qualities after all.
Her next action refuted that thought. Reaching forward, Cookie grabbed the glass sugar container from their table and loosened the metal lid. “The next person who puts sugar in his coffee will get a surprise,” Cookie said, a mischievous grin on her face. “Something I learned in high school. Refined sugar is bad for you anyway."
* * * *
Marla was unable to follow up on any of the loose ends nagging at her until later in the week. Work and chores kept her occupied, including buying a new tire for the Camry.
Friday after work, she put aside time to accomplish one task. Fortunately, she remembered the address for Tesla, the massage therapist, thanks to Vail, who had shown her the list of sports club staff members in his office. Now she could at least check this trail to see if it led to Jolene. Vail might have already investigated this angle, but she had an advantage over him. A woman was more likely to confide in a hairdresser than in a cop.
Her car's clock read six-thirty, meaning she had less than an hour before Eddie, Nicole's boyfriend, started barbecuing jerk chicken for a get-together at his house. Hopefully, Tess would be home if she hadn't yet gone out for the weekend.
Driving through an older section of Plantation near Fig Tree Lane, Marla admired the spreading banyan trees that shaded the streets. The lots extended well away from the road. From the house numbers, she surmised Tesla's place was the lemon yellow cottage with white shutters just ahead. She'd pulled along the curb and put her hand on the gear shift when a movement caught her attention. Someone was leaving the yellow house. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a vibrantly colored kerchief dress, the lady wobbled on high heels toward a dark-green Buick parked in the short driveway. Squinting, Marla tried to get a better view in the encroaching darkness.
Two choices confronted her. She could approach the house and knock on the door. If Tess was inside, her patience would be rewarded. But if this person leaving was Tess, maybe Marla should follow her.
Have some saichel, she told herself. Good sense mandated that she continue with her original plan. Waiting until the visitor left, Marla studied the house. Weeds had overgrown the front lawn. A sodden newspaper in a plastic bag lay on the swale, victim of an early-morning
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