Permed To Death [Bad Hair Day Mystery 1] Read Online Free PDF

for anything. He and Kimberly would enjoy seeing her squirm, and she wouldn't give them the satisfaction!
    After she was left alone, Marla entered her study and lifted the phone receiver. She called several funeral homes, the numbers for which she'd written down earlier. Her work paid off. Mrs. Kravitz's funeral was scheduled for Sunday afternoon. She would have just enough time to attend before going to Anita's house for dinner. It was imperative she get that envelope before Detective Vail got wind of it, or she'd be sunk for sure! Mrs. Kravitz's relatives were her only hope.
    Rosenthal Memorial Gardens, one of the county's older cemeteries, sat squeezed between condo developments in a western suburb of Fort Lauderdale. Bordered by tall black olive trees in a rectangular subdivision, the gardens gave the appearance of an oasis of tranquillity away from the bustle of modern life.
    Marla parked in a lot situated to the side of a chapel building where solemn-faced men in dark suits stood ready to direct visitors. She hadn't attended many funerals and didn't feel comfortable in cemeteries. Her annual pilgrimage to Tammy's gravesite was a painful event, but a necessity to her conscience. She also visited her father's resting place each year at Rosh Hashanah. Glancing across the lawn, she wished he were here now to offer his support. She missed him with an aching intensity as she remembered how he'd listened to her hopes and dreams, and later, her despair.
    He'd understood when Marla made her career switch, while Anita still tried to push her into becoming a schoolteacher. Unable to face being near children after the accident, Marla had forsaken her two years of college as an education major to become a hairstylist. She'd always liked doing hair, experimenting on her friends much to their delight, but she'd suppressed her true calling because of Anita's lack of support. When Anita gave her a hard time later on, Marla countered that it was her life, not her mother's. That discussion was typical of their bittersweet relationship.
    Giving a last nervous tug to her jet-black suit jacket, she approached the polished wooden doors. Memories aside, she'd be glad when this ordeal was over.
    Inside, she was directed past a lobby toward a room on the left where the family of the deceased were greeting visitors. She signed a guest book and entered the dimly lit interior. Somber individuals stood about in small clusters, chatting quietly. Remembering how Mrs. Kravitz had described her niece as a petite brunette, Marla spotted her engaged in conversation across the room. Waiting for a lag in dialogue, she tentatively approached.
    "Excuse me, are you Wendy Greenfield? I'm Marla Shore, owner of Cut ‘N Dye Beauty Salon. Please accept my sincere condolences. I'm so terribly sorry about your aunt"
    Half-expecting a rebuff, she was glad when the woman smiled at her.
    "It's kind of you to come, Ms. Shore.” Wendy's pretty face showed no signs of weeping. Her large brown eyes were outlined in black, a stark contrast to her pale complexion. Ginger-tinted lips gave a hint of color along with a matching blush. Her hairstyle, straight and one length down to her shoulders, was not one Marla would recommend for someone of her small stature. At least she'd chosen a smartly cut black suit trimmed in crisp white for the funeral service.
    "Call me Marla. Your aunt has ... had been my customer for many years. I'll miss her,” she said, hoping her lie wasn't evident
    "Won't we all,” a man's voice snarled from behind.
    "Marla, this is my husband, Zack. Marla owns the hair salon where ... er...” Wendy's voice trailed off.
    Marla turned to shake hands with a tall, thin-laced fellow with bushy dark eyebrows that reminded her of an eagle's nest, perched high on his face as the dominant feature. His wide mouth stretched in a sneer as he took her hand. His handshake was limp and moist like a strand of freshly bleached hair.
    He looked down at her over his long