Shear Murder by Nancy J. Cohen Page B

robbery couldn't have been the motive. That's why I was interested in the pictures he took at the wedding. Maybe one of them shows Torrie's murderer.”
    Hally took a gulp of coffee. “What else would you expect, darling? The killer had to be someone familiar to her, and we're all in the photos. I know it's not me, so that leaves everyone else.” She wrinkled her brow. “What happened to Griff?”
    “Someone conked him on the head.”
    “Is he okay? I haven't seen him in . . . since we worked together at Orchid Isle.”
    “Oh, he'll be fine.” Marla wrapped her hand around the insulated cup. “Weren't you also covering the park's grand opening? How did that go?”
    Hally lifted her nose. “I got a great interview with Falcon Oakwood. Watch for my story in the next issue of our magazine.”
    “He wasn't the first owner of the property, was he?” She'd been unable to find much information on the Internet about that tract of land.
    “Nope. After he acquired the site, it took him five years to develop the exhibits, plant the gardens, carve out the nature trails, and design the buildings. He wanted a place to showcase his orchid collection, to support research for new hybrids or whatever they're called, and to provide a native plant habitat.”
    “You sound like an admirer.”
    “I respect his goals, that's all.”
    “Was Torrie scoping him out for an interview, too?”
    Hally's expression shuttered. “She may have had other things on her mind.”
    “Wasn't she friends with his wife?”
    “Just so.”
    “I wonder how much they confided in each other.”
    “You'll have to ask Leanne that question. You might want to talk to her anyway.”
    “It was nice of Leanne to put in a word to her husband about Jill's wedding. The garden setting worked out perfectly.”
    “Purely a publicity move, darling. Falcon knew it would bring people to the park.” Finishing her beverage, Hally tossed the empty container into a nearby trash can. “Leanne can tell you other things, but I'm not sure you want to hear them. Too much knowledge can be a liability.” With an air of dismissal, she stood.
    With more questions tripping on her tongue, Marla followed Hally from the break room. Jumping aside as a staffer scurried past, she regarded the bustling scene with a sense of guilt. Time to go back to her salon.
    “I appreciate your taking the time to see me,” she told Hally. “Please give me a call if you think of anything else that would be helpful. I can always pass information along to my fiancé, who's with the police. I suppose the crime scene guys already examined Torrie's computer files and such?”
    Her skirt swishing, Hally strolled along at her side. “They were here the next day.”
    “And?”
    “I don't know if they found anything relevant.”
    They might not have, but did you?
Hally would have had time to come by the office on Saturday night. Had she discovered which file contained the supposed “dirt” on people that Torrie collected? And if this file truly existed, did it contain material that someone would kill to keep secret?
    Marla parted amiably and walked, deep in thought, toward the front door. If only she could get a look at this place when no one was here. She'd search for Griff's photos as well as hidden files on Hally's computer, and Torrie's as well, if the police had returned the dead woman's CPU.
    Lost in her musings, she bumped into someone as she breezed past the reception desk.
    “Oh, I'm sorry,” said Rachel.
    Now Marla saw that she wore a name tag indicating her status as an intern. The poor thing must be so used to apologizing that she automatically assumed her own guilt.
    “No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going.” Anxious to move on, Marla shifted her handbag to her other shoulder. “Are you okay?”
    Rachel regarded her with large, round eyes. “I'm fine, but can I have a word with you?”
    What's this about?
Maybe the girl hadn't collided with her by