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

nose. “Come to send off the old lady?"
    "Zack!” Wendy said. “Please show some respect"
    "Why should I? Aunty Bertha can't tell us what to do anymore. I hope she was telling the truth about leaving you her fortune."
    Wendy's eyes narrowed. “Watch what you say, Zack,” she warned. She turned to Marla, giving an apologetic shrug. “You'll have to excuse his behavior. He and Aunty Bertha weren't getting along."
    "Where's cousin Todd? Isn't he going to show up for his mother's funeral?” Zack glanced around the room, a skeptical look on his face.
    Marla considered mentioning the envelope, but this didn't seem to be an appropriate time. Excusing herself instead, she edged toward the door. A young man rushed inside, nearly colliding with her. He gave her a startled glance and she stared back, wondering why he looked familiar. Dark stubble shadowed the lower half of his face. Dulled blue eyes were set close together above a narrow nose. But it was the cleft in his chin that reminded her of something with an unpleasant association. The guy looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. He was dressed in a loosely tucked-in dress shirt and trousers, mismatched socks, and loafers. Apparently he hadn't thought to put on a tie for the occasion, or else he didn't care.
    She watched him greet Wendy and Zack. Was this Mrs. Kravitz's son? That could explain why she felt she knew him. He might have come into the salon when his mother was having her hair done. How sad that none of the relatives showed any signs of grief. Wendy's manner seemed subdued, but she wasn't weepy.
    A tall broad-shouldered man with gray hair broke away from a group and strode in her direction. His handsome face was lined with creases, but they added distinction to his even features. That three-piece suit must be warm in the Florida heat, she thought, her gaze assessing his expensive attire.
    "You're Marla Shore?” he said, an icy look in his tawny eyes.
    She nodded. “And who are you?” she challenged, offended by his curt tone of voice.
    "I'm Roy Collins, vice president of Sunshine Publishing. Bertha's business partner,” he added. “I heard the circumstances of her death. Be warned, Ms. Shore, that I am considering suing you for neglect. I must say I am surprised you had the nerve to show up here."
    Marla's eyes widened. “Whatever are you talking about?"
    "You gave her a poisoned cup of coffee, then left her alone. She could have been resuscitated if you'd been with her and noticed she was ill. I won't permit this flagrant lack of responsibility to go unpunished.” His eyes narrowed menacingly. “My attorney will be in touch with you."
    With a supercilious tilt of his chin, he stalked away and joined the cluster around Wendy and Zack.
    Her blood boiling, Marla strolled to a corner and leaned against the wall to observe the proceedings. Watching the interactions of Bertha's relatives, she determined not to let Roy Collins unnerve her. He wouldn't have a leg to stand on in court, she told herself reassuringly, ignoring a pang of doubt.
    When the doors to the chapel opened, she marched inside, her spine stiff. She sat through the service with quiet respect. Wendy sniffled in the front row, flanked by her husband and the man Marla assumed was Todd Kravitz. The rabbi eulogized Bertha for her numerous charitable works and her contribution to the regional publishing scene. She'd started Sunshine Publishing Company from scratch, using funds provided by her banker husband. When he died, she continued to make the business a profitable enterprise. She'd been a shrewd businesswoman, Marla conceded, even if she was ruthless.
    A brief gravesite service followed, after which the guests dispersed. Marla's heels sank into the soft ground as she approached Mrs. Kravitz's niece.
    "Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you,” she offered, squinting against the bright sun.
    "It was kind of you to come,” Wendy replied. Her eyes were rimmed in red, but her