Read Online Murder by Manicure by Nancy J. Cohen - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy J. Cohen
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us when we meet Hortense. He can pay attention to you, and I'll focus on her."
"Won't Hortense think that's odd?"
"Not at all.” Stroking his droopy mustache, he appeared thoughtful. “She'll understand I'm just interested in renewing our acquaintance. Then, when you and I have a fight, hopefully she'll be there to comfort me."
"Arnie, you're despicable.” Yet his scheme appealed to her sense of adventure. Wasn't she looking for something to uplift her mood? Playing Arnie's game would serve to get him off her list, which was well and good because she'd always considered them close friends and nothing more. “Okay, who do you suggest we get to act as decoy?"
A broad grin split his face. “I know just the man: Detective Dalton Vail. He broods over you, so he'll be perfect."
Marla's jaw dropped. “Dalton! I don't think so. He'd be furious if we suggested this to him. He didn't like it when I went out with David. Can you imagine what he'd say to pretending I'm your fiancée?"
"Ask him, Marla. Otherwise, you're stuck with me. Hortense knows a lot of people in town. I can assure you the news of our betrothal will be smeared like schmaltz all over Palm Haven by tonight."
* * * *
Marla approached Vail's ranch-style house with trepidation. A dim lantern shone over the portico, but spotlights from the garage provided bright illumination. She pushed the doorbell, shifting her feet while waiting to see who responded to her summons. She'd ask Dalton now if he was home. Better to get it over with, that was her motto.
She took a step back when the door swung open, revealing Brianna's sullen face.
"Hi,” the girl said. “I'll get my dance bag.” Turning on her heel, Brianna retreated into the hallway without inviting Marla to enter. She wore a leotard and tights under an oversized T-shirt. A pair of white Steve Madden tennis shoes covered her feet.
"Is your dad home?” Marla called, resisting the urge to clench her fists. This wasn't going to be a pleasant encounter.
Holding a pink sack, Brianna walked toward her. “He's still at work, and Carmen left after she fixed my dinner. I took Lucky out for a walk before getting changed,” she added proudly.
"Golden retrievers need lots of exercise,” Marla said approvingly as she walked beside the girl to her Toyota. “By the way, I like your bun. Did you put your hair up yourself?"
Brianna gave her a condescending look. “Of course. Do you think I'm so retarded that I can't do anything on my own?"
"I didn't mean that."
The girl's dark eyes raked her with scorn. “Let's get something straight, Miss Shore. I know you agreed to take me tonight to impress my dad. This is just temporary until I find another ride, understand?"
"I offered because I wanted to help,” Marla said, holding the passenger door open.
"We don't need anyone's help.” Brianna folded her arms while Marla slid into the driver's seat and started the car. “Daddy is just being nice to you because you solved a couple of his cases. That's why he agreed to let you drive me."
"Oh, is that the reason? I'm so glad you told me. Where are we going?"
"Dance Artists Performance Studio. It's in The Fountains."
"What time do I have to pick you up?"
"Ten o'clock. Ballet class comes first, then I have jazz.” The preteen turned away, staring out the window. “I just remembered, you might have to come inside. They're measuring for recital costumes, and we have to pay a deposit."
Driving down West Broward Boulevard, Marla gave her a quick glance. The girl's tightened mouth and pinched face told Marla how much it had pained Brianna to say those words.
"I'm glad I brought my checkbook,” she said brightly.
Her head averted, Brianna didn't answer.
I'm trying to be nice, pal. If you can't handle that, you've got problems. “How's your dad's latest case going? Do you think he'll wrap it up soon so he can be home earlier?” she asked, her nose for news propelling the inquiry.
"Who knows?” Brianna
"Won't Hortense think that's odd?"
"Not at all.” Stroking his droopy mustache, he appeared thoughtful. “She'll understand I'm just interested in renewing our acquaintance. Then, when you and I have a fight, hopefully she'll be there to comfort me."
"Arnie, you're despicable.” Yet his scheme appealed to her sense of adventure. Wasn't she looking for something to uplift her mood? Playing Arnie's game would serve to get him off her list, which was well and good because she'd always considered them close friends and nothing more. “Okay, who do you suggest we get to act as decoy?"
A broad grin split his face. “I know just the man: Detective Dalton Vail. He broods over you, so he'll be perfect."
Marla's jaw dropped. “Dalton! I don't think so. He'd be furious if we suggested this to him. He didn't like it when I went out with David. Can you imagine what he'd say to pretending I'm your fiancée?"
"Ask him, Marla. Otherwise, you're stuck with me. Hortense knows a lot of people in town. I can assure you the news of our betrothal will be smeared like schmaltz all over Palm Haven by tonight."
* * * *
Marla approached Vail's ranch-style house with trepidation. A dim lantern shone over the portico, but spotlights from the garage provided bright illumination. She pushed the doorbell, shifting her feet while waiting to see who responded to her summons. She'd ask Dalton now if he was home. Better to get it over with, that was her motto.
She took a step back when the door swung open, revealing Brianna's sullen face.
"Hi,” the girl said. “I'll get my dance bag.” Turning on her heel, Brianna retreated into the hallway without inviting Marla to enter. She wore a leotard and tights under an oversized T-shirt. A pair of white Steve Madden tennis shoes covered her feet.
"Is your dad home?” Marla called, resisting the urge to clench her fists. This wasn't going to be a pleasant encounter.
Holding a pink sack, Brianna walked toward her. “He's still at work, and Carmen left after she fixed my dinner. I took Lucky out for a walk before getting changed,” she added proudly.
"Golden retrievers need lots of exercise,” Marla said approvingly as she walked beside the girl to her Toyota. “By the way, I like your bun. Did you put your hair up yourself?"
Brianna gave her a condescending look. “Of course. Do you think I'm so retarded that I can't do anything on my own?"
"I didn't mean that."
The girl's dark eyes raked her with scorn. “Let's get something straight, Miss Shore. I know you agreed to take me tonight to impress my dad. This is just temporary until I find another ride, understand?"
"I offered because I wanted to help,” Marla said, holding the passenger door open.
"We don't need anyone's help.” Brianna folded her arms while Marla slid into the driver's seat and started the car. “Daddy is just being nice to you because you solved a couple of his cases. That's why he agreed to let you drive me."
"Oh, is that the reason? I'm so glad you told me. Where are we going?"
"Dance Artists Performance Studio. It's in The Fountains."
"What time do I have to pick you up?"
"Ten o'clock. Ballet class comes first, then I have jazz.” The preteen turned away, staring out the window. “I just remembered, you might have to come inside. They're measuring for recital costumes, and we have to pay a deposit."
Driving down West Broward Boulevard, Marla gave her a quick glance. The girl's tightened mouth and pinched face told Marla how much it had pained Brianna to say those words.
"I'm glad I brought my checkbook,” she said brightly.
Her head averted, Brianna didn't answer.
I'm trying to be nice, pal. If you can't handle that, you've got problems. “How's your dad's latest case going? Do you think he'll wrap it up soon so he can be home earlier?” she asked, her nose for news propelling the inquiry.
"Who knows?” Brianna
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