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were both fiftyish, looking for something to relieve their boredom, in my opinion. If anyone is missing a spark plug in her mental engine, it’s the medium.”
    “Now you’ve aroused my curiosity.”
    His eyes smoldered. “Is that all? I’d hoped for more.”
    “Marla, why don’t you talk to these people?” Brianna suggested. “You always find out more than Daddy.”
    Like I don’t have enough to do: maintaining a household, running my salon, and keeping Ma from driving me crazy ? “I don’t mean to change the subject, but did I tell you Ma met Sam Levy, the guy from the hardware store? He’s such as sweet man. I’d like to fix them up, especially now that Roger is out of town.”
    Vail shook his head. “You’re happy to play matchmaker, but you won’t settle down on your own.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Life with Stan left me with a bad taste for settling down. You should be happy I’m trying to keep my nose out of your affairs for a change.”
    “You’re closer to the people who knew the deceased. She met someone in the meter room…someone who turned off the power to your salon. Maybe Carolyn wasn’t the intended victim.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Sutton may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The intruder might have been after you.”
    Marla stared at him. “That’s providing she’d been murdered. Anything you want to share with me?” Like cause of death? When he shook his head, she continued. “I doubt Carolyn had many friends. She took too much pleasure in demeaning other people. If you counted those of us who aren’t sad over her death, I’ll bet you could form a line.”
    “Prove it to me.”
    “Huh?”
    Brianna snickered. “He’s got you, Marla. Give him a list of everyone who hated Carolyn.”
    Challenged, she took the bait. “All right. I’ll show you who had reason to want her dead.” She rattled off some names of people Carolyn had offended. “Justine Welsh must be one of them. I remember the day Carolyn reduced her to tears in front of a customer. Then there was Andy, the shampoo assistant, who Carolyn docked every time her hair washes took too long. Carolyn said time was money, and so the poor girl hardly made anything. Carolyn made plenty of enemies. I was just lured there as a patsy. If anyone else were in charge of the investigation, I’d be a suspect as well. Assuming someone plotted to kill Carolyn, we’ll find out who did it and why.”
    Marla finally got the chance to question Dennis Thomson on Monday. Entering her landlord’s office always made her uncomfortable. It reminded her of a prison cell, like the one in which she’d visited dear old Stan in the city clinker when he’d been wrongly accused of murdering his second wife. Maybe the harsh lighting reflecting off gray walls contributed, or else it was the lack of accoutrements besides the standard-issue desk, couple of chairs, and single metal trash can. Even the carpet, a mixed-color Berber, muted into dismal ash. Her mood sank along her body as she took a seat opposite the landlord.
    Thomson had grown pudgier over the years. His black hair, thinning over his crown, along with small deepset eyes and an almost nonexistent chin, gave him a weaselly look. It didn’t help that his thick lips were curled into a perpetual snarl.
    “I wanted to talk to you about Carolyn Sutton,” Marla said after handing him her rental payment. “Although we didn’t get along, I felt bad about her…passing. I’d like to do what I can to help the police. What do you know about Carolyn’s successor?” Crossing her ankles, she smoothed her knee-length skirt.
    Thomson’s amber eyes glowed. “It doesn’t strike me as being your concern.”
    “Detective Vail thinks maybe I was the intended victim instead of Carolyn. I don’t agree with him. Carolyn wasn’t a nice person, and she may have made enemies. When I worked for her, she treated her staff like dirt.” Her ears still rang with the criticisms