Marla's gaze widened. "Did you tell Vail this?"

Reaching for a pair of socks, Eloise tilted her head. "The lieutenant is aware of Hank's extracurricular activities. His bureau's been investigating the illegal sale of drugs from Hank's pharmacy. Vail believes Hank may have some connection but is not the murderer."

"So why doesn't he bring Hank in for questioning?"

"He's waiting for evidence against him, so he can use it as leverage to get the man to talk."

"Is Hank here tonight?"

"No, I haven't seen him." Her eyes darted furtively about the room. "I wouldn't speak to him if I were you. He must be in cahoots with the killer."

"Doesn't Vail believe Hank set the bomb that killed your husband?"

"He mentioned something about trace evidence. I guess he's working on it but doesn't have solid proof."

"Hey, Marla, you getting changed or not?" Tally called, rounding a corner and peering at them.

"Where's Jill?" she asked. "Er, I mean Hortense. She prefers to be called by her middle name, you know."

"Hortense went upstairs," Tally explained patiently.

"Eloise, be careful." She felt the woman had been right to be afraid. Whoever killed Sam might believe his wife knew too much. "And if you have time, stop in at the salon tomorrow. I'll fit you into my schedule."

"What was that all about?" Tally asked while Marla threw on her gym clothes.

Quickly Marla reiterated what Eloise had told her. No one else was about, and they'd retreated to a distant corner of the locker room. "I'd like to get Gloria out of her office as we'd planned. Her files might tell us more about these people."

"Right. I'll tell her I'm considering a full membership, and I need her to go upstairs with me to answer some questions about the equipment. It won't give you much time."

Marla stuffed her bag into a locker and locked the door. After hoisting up her sweatpants, she pocketed the key. "Let's do it."

Waiting until she was sure no one else was about, Marla slipped into Gloria's office after Gloria left with Tally. Examining the clutter on her desk, Marla hesitated. She didn't want to displace items, but where to start? Stars rippled on a computer monitor as though a screen saver had activated. Personnel files might be listed there instead of in that locked file cabinet in the corner. It was a place to begin.

Seated at the desk, Marla swirled the mouse until the Windows desktop came into view. Looking under "My Doc.u.ments" yielded unsatisfactory results. Perhaps she'd have better luck with a word processing program. Her heart rate increased when she hit the jackpot with a folder labeled "Staff" and another one, "Members." Scrolling down the staff list, Marla noted Tesla's address given as the street number she knew to be Betsy's house. Well, that wasn't much help. The rest of the details were rather mundane, with names, addresses, contact numbers, positions, and vacation schedules.

Turning to the member file, Marla found a reference to a spreadsheet program. Hoping it wasn't anything complicated, she brought up another window and noticed a discrepancy between members' initial fee dates and renewals.

She'd left the door partially closed, and when it was suddenly yanked open, she jerked upright in surprise. Slate's large form darkened the doorway. He glared at her with knitted brows. As he approached, amber eyes blazing like those of a tiger ready to pounce, Marla noticed those brows were unusually dark. They didn't match the medium-brown hair slicked back off his forehead.

Flushing guiltily, Marla clicked off the programs on screen, leaving the desktop icons displayed. Then she pushed herself up from the chair. "I, uh, was just admiring Gloria's computer system. I need to get a new one, and Gateway is one of my considerations."

"Liar." He stopped inches in front of her, fists clenched by his side. "What did you find out?"

She thrust her chin forward. "What are you hiding? Tesla lives with you, but her address given is your friend Betsy's."

"That's none of your business." A sheen of sweat broke out on his upper lip.

I'm getting to you, pal. "Tesla followed Amy one night. Did she tell you why?"

"I don't have to answer your questions." Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her until her teeth rattled.

"You'd rather talk to Detective Vail? Get your hands off me, or I'll charge you with a.s.sault." His height and shape merged with an image in her consciousness, and she gasped. "You're the one who attacked me with a broken bottle!"

Instantly, he stepped away. "I should've finished the job in the parking lot. A few cuts to your pretty face, and you'd have had a lot more to worry about. You're too nosy for your own good. I figured I could scare you off."

"Did you throw that Molotov c.o.c.ktail through my window?"

"Huh?"

"Someone tossed a bomb into my house. The police have evidence. Would you care to confess now, or later in an interrogation room?"

"I don't know nothin' about that."

"Did you kill Jolene? Is that why you want me to quit investigating? You're responsible for the deaths of three people?"

His smug superiority was replaced by a look of fear. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

Hearing voices outside in the corridor, Marla spoke quietly. "Sam Zelman and Cookie Calcone. Whoever killed Jolene might have murdered them, too. You have a history of violence, pal. The cops will want to bring you in, especially when I tell them how you've threatened me."

He stumbled backward, his bravado dissipated. "I only tried to scare you in the parking lot, nothin' else."

"Then what are you hiding?"

"Jolene knew. She knew a lot of things, like how Gloria rakes in extra money by manipulating commissions on the computer. Jolene figured it out when Gloria sent her repeated renewal notices."

"Is that what Jolene meant when she asked you if Keith was involved?"

"I never cut myself in for a share. Gloria would have broadcast what she'd learned about me."

Frustrated because he was revealing significant information, but not what she wanted to know about him, Marla shook her head. "What is that?"

"I can tell you," Tally's voice rang out loud and clear from where she leaned against the doorjamb. "He's the man who comes into my boutique and changes into women's clothing!"

Striding into the office with Gloria at her heels, Tally pointed a finger at Slate. "I'll bet I know why such a mystery surrounds Tesla, the elusive ma.s.sage therapist. You're looking at her. They even have the same letters in their names!"

Marla's mouth gaped. Gloria snickered, and Slate blanched.

"Is it true?" Marla croaked, even as the puzzle pieces mentally tumbled into place. Panty hose in the ma.s.sage suite, lipstick smeared on Slate's mouth, Betsy's obvious distress. No wonder, if her boyfriend preferred to dress in drag! "Why were you following Amy?" she demanded.

Slate's face crumbled. "Keith would have told our boss if I didn't do what he wanted. He's hot on Amy, so he ordered me to follow her to see who she hooks up with. The jerk doesn't understand she's not interested."

"That's because Amy likes you, stupid," said Gloria. "You're all a bunch of a.s.sholes. I'm the only one with brains around here." Her crimson lips pouted. "Now Marla, explain what you're doing in my office."

It was Marla's turn to feel cornered. "I understand Jolene learned you were cheating on customers and boosting your commissions. Did she threaten to expose you? Is that why you killed her?" She'd learned to go for the gut reaction, but she didn't really suspect Gloria. The girl wouldn't stoop to making bombs.

Gloria laughed raucously. "She couldn't have hurt me. But there were others whose reputations she could damage." Her glance flashed to Slate.

He raised his hands. "Hey, I didn't do it. I'd like to clear this up just to get the heat off. You were here the night Jolene drowned. Did you notice anyone other than Sharon and Amy in the lobby?"

"It was pretty quiet," Gloria admitted. "You might ask Lindsay who was in the locker room. She didn't leave until after Jolene went in for her ma.s.sage. Maybe she saw someone else."

"Why was Lindsay still here?" Marla queried. "Hadn't Dancercize been over for at least a half hour?"

Gloria gave an evil grin. She was the type of person who enjoyed relating sordid gossip, Marla realized. "Hank Goodfellow had checked in earlier. I've seen the way those two act together. You should talk to him about it."

"Yes, I should." She signaled to Tally. "Let's get out of here. We've dug up enough dirt for tonight. These people need a shovel to cover up their sludge."

Chapter Nineteen.

Marla didn't get a chance to follow through on her visit to Hank Goodfellow's pharmacy right away. Hectic days at work and evenings out with friends consumed her time until the weekend was nearly over. A frantic call from Hortense in Vero Beach gave her the impetus she needed to carry on her investigation.

"Have you seen Jill lately?" Dr. Crone inquired. "She left a message on my machine Friday indicating she'd found the link to Jolene. I called her back, but no one answered."

Working in the kitchen, Marla cradled the phone on her shoulder. She slid on a pair of mitts to remove a lemon bread pudding that had finished baking in the oven. "Jill was at the sports club Thursday. I haven't seen her since, but maybe Arnie's gotten together with her. I can ask him for you."

A pause. "Have you told him about me? I mean, does he know about Jill playing my part?"

Marla detected a note of apprehension in Dr. Crone's voice. Did she still care about Arnie? "My lips remain sealed. Why don't I trace Jill and get back to you? If you hear from her in the meantime, please ask her to call me."

Putting the pan on a rack to cool, Marla puzzled over Jill's silence. Maybe the girl had accepted an audition out of town. Or perhaps she'd wanted to confirm her findings before returning Dr. Crone's call. Either way, she might have told Arnie.

Bagel Busters was on the way to Hank's drugstore. It was four o'clock on Sunday; both places might still be open. Rushed for time, Marla let Spooks outside to do his business in the backyard while she refrigerated the pudding. Fishing for a treat, she grabbed a piece of chocolate-covered halvah for a quick energy boost. A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as the sweet sesame-seed candy melted in her mouth.

Spooks yipped at the door to be let back in. Stooping, Marla spared a moment to scratch behind his ears. "I'll pay attention to you when I come home," she promised, feeling guilty about leaving him alone again. After allowing him to lick her face, she straightened. Her purse was on the counter. Without bothering to check her appearance, she dashed out the garage exit. The denim jacket that matched her jeans should still be in her car. A chill wind whipped the air, and she shivered as she dove into the Toyota. Her long-sleeved silk blouse didn't provide much insulation, she thought, turning on the heater.

As she reversed from the driveway, she prayed under her breath. Please don't let anything bad have happened to Jill. Three people were dead so far. Even if Jolene's actions had brought about her own demise, that didn't explain why Sam or Cookie were targets unless self-protection was the motive. They might have uncovered Jolene's killer, which in turn made them a threat. Was that why a bomb had been tossed through her window? Someone feared she was getting too close to the truth?

Slate had admitted he'd attacked her in the parking lot. He'd been afraid her snooping would reveal his secret, but he'd seemed confused when she mentioned the Molotov c.o.c.ktail. That indicated to her he wasn't the car bomber, either. He didn't possess the apt.i.tude required to make explosives, regardless of how much instruction was available on the Internet.

Dr. Crone was a scientist, an inner voice whispered. And Jill worked at Stockhart Industries, albeit in public relations. Other than those two, someone had provided Jolene with lab reports she subst.i.tuted for her own. Learning that person's ident.i.ty was the key.

Wait a minute, she thought. Hadn't Cookie said her ex-spouse used to work at Jolene's plant before he'd been fired? What could have happened to cause his dismissal? Jolene had been his superior. Could he have discovered her deception? Or was he the source of those fake reports?

Dear Lord, another avenue to follow, Marla thought wearily. She wondered if the man had stayed in town, and considered how to find him. Relatives must have notified him about Cookie's death. Marla had been so wrapped up in her own concerns that she'd forgotten to ask about the woman's funeral arrangements.

A line of customers was waiting outside Bagel Busters when Marla arrived at the shopping strip where her salon was located. Arnie must be serving early-bird dinners, she thought wryly. The senior citizen crowd was out in force. She allowed herself the luxury of glancing into the rearview mirror to check her hair. The reddish highlights glinted in the fading afternoon light. Opening her purse, she withdrew a tube and applied apricot lip gloss. Now she was ready to conquer the world.

"Hey, Marla," Arnie called when she'd elbowed her way inside his establishment. Waving, he grinned in unabashed delight from behind the cash register.

Wondering how he always managed to look so manly in a T-shirt, jeans, and full-length ap.r.o.n, Marla approached with an answering smile. Ruth, one of the waitresses, greeted her while she waited for Arnie to finish giving change to a customer. "Have you spoken to Jill lately?" she asked at the first opening.

"We went out Friday night. I hope you don't mind." His dark eyes gleamed expectantly as though he would have liked her to protest.

"Doesn't bother me!" she said breezily. "I'm glad the two of you have hit it off. Has she, uh, told you anything new about herself?"

The grin disappeared from his face. "Hortense, alias Jillian Barlow, confessed her secret ident.i.ty. I was upset that she'd lied to me, until I remembered we'd done the same thing to her. Then I thought how brave she was to investigate Jolene's drowning."

"The real Hortense Crone-who is married, by the way-has been trying to get in touch with her, but Jill hasn't answered her telephone. Any idea if she went away for the rest of the weekend?"

"She was excited about something but wouldn't tell me more until she checked her facts."

"Ah! She left a message for Dr. Crone, who works at the Marine Annex in Vero Beach. Apparently, Jill found a link to Jolene's killer."

"Jill explained her role to me and how she's grateful to Hortense for helping her. She wouldn't do anything stupid, do you think?" A worried frown transformed his features.

"Maybe Dalton can enlighten us. I believe he's working today. I'll stop off there on my way to Hank's pharmacy."

Promising to let him know what she learned, Marla left to head for the central police station. As she'd surmised, Dalton was mired in paperwork when she was admitted to his office. Nonetheless, her heart somersaulted when his gaze brightened at the sight of her. He looked pretty decent himself, his broad shoulders encased in a white dress shirt. He'd loosened his tie and appeared relaxed, with his thick hair ruffled and a mug of coffee on his desk.

His glance scanned her denim-clad figure before settling on her face. "Sorry I haven't called lately, but I've been busy."

"That's not why I'm here." She plopped herself down on one of his chairs. "Dr. Crone has been trying to get in touch with Jill, who left a message on her answering machine that she'd found the link to Jolene's killer. When Arnie saw Jill Friday night, she was excited but wouldn't talk. He says she wanted to gather more information before coming to you."

A bemused smile curved his mouth. "You mean Arnie knows the lady's real ident.i.ty?"

"She told him the truth. They like each other, Dalton. I'm so glad for Arnie."

His gaze captured hers. "Me, too."

She blinked, realizing she could easily get lost looking into the depths of his smoky eyes. "Jolene pa.s.sed off someone else's lab test results as her own. My guess is, Cookie found the source. Jill may have pinpointed the same person, in which case I'm worried for her."

"You think Jolene had a deal going with someone else who works in a lab?"

"That's what Cookie implied. The question is who? The same culprit who sold Jolene the lab reports may be the person who designed Sam's car bomb and heaved that explosive through my window."

"Sold to Jolene? You mean someone made money on their deal?"

Annoyance puckered her brow. Was he being obtuse on purpose? "Why else would the perp contribute his own reports to be used by someone else in an unethical manner?"

Vail regarded her with a patient smile. "He could be unhappy in his job, wanting to get back at a colleague who wronged him. There are lots of reasons. Find the perpetrator, and you'll have your motive."

Marla brightened. "Possibly Jolene got disenchanted and broke off her end of the bargain. I don't think she would've exposed her partner in crime, because it would have brought forth her own duplicity. But she must have angered or threatened this person somehow."

Picking up a pen, Vail studied her, as though weighing how much to say. "Have you spoken to Hank Goodfellow lately?"

Her jaw dropped open. "He's a pharmacist. Do you think he's-"

"Goodfellow doesn't work in a lab."

"So why ... wait, Slate implied Hank and Lindsay were interested in each other. Isn't Hank married?"

"Hank's got problems, and his rocky marriage is only one of them. We're about to bust him wide open."