Читать книгу Grand Prize: Murder! - Vivian Conroy - Страница 12

Chapter Four

In front of her long hallway mirror that was in an appropriate art deco style, Vicky adjusted her brand-new hat just a touch. The color was perfect with her coral dress. Two long necklaces that she had found on the bottom of her jewelry box completed the twenties’ look. For makeup she had focused on highlighting her eyes with some golden tints and her lips with some shine.

A knock at the front door announced the arrival of her mystery driver for the night. She was curious whom Marge had managed to find for that. It couldn’t be Bob. Lilian Rowland would never invite him to one of her parties. Only the ultra-stylish or the ultra-rich got in with her.

And those who happened to be able to bring famous authors of course.

Shaking her head to herself that she had fallen for this ploy, Vicky opened the door.

On the well-worn step in front, his dark hair crowned by some dangling climbing roses, was Michael Danning. His tan was much deeper than Vicky had expected after a stay in Denmark. In black tie he looked even smarter than usual. He smiled at her and reached out his hand, holding a single white rose. “A corsage for you to wear. I heard it was quite the thing in the twenties.”

“I thought you were still in Copenhagen.” Thrown off balance by his sudden appearance, Vicky accepted the corsage and took her time attaching it to her dress. Her thoughts raced. She had looked forward to Michael’s return, to hear all about his trip and tell him about the store and Bella’s visit to town, but now that he was suddenly in front of her, her head was painfully empty. All the engaging and witty things to say seemed out of reach.

“And I had hoped you’d be happy to see me back in town.” Michael’s voice was teasing, but his expression was tight. “Of course I should have attended the ceremony where you got your sign and…”

Vicky cut off his apology quickly. “It wasn’t a ceremony really, more of an informal affair. I don’t like being the center of attention anyway, so it’s not a problem.”

She checked the corsage and then reached for her purse on the hall sideboard. “All done. Shall we go then?”

“Allow me.” Michael offered her his arm and escorted her to his car. It shone as if he had especially waxed it for the occasion.

“Marge told me what color your dress was,” he confided. “I figured she’d know. I didn’t want to get you a pink rose and then find it clashed with your dress color. It’s a good thing you got Marge to help you with the store and all. Else I’d think you were working too hard for it.”

He opened the car door for her and made a gallant bow.

“Thank you.” Vicky lowered herself into the car seat, careful not to crease her dress. Looking up at him, she said, “I thought you believed in hard work.”

Michael held her gaze as he said, “I do, but it can be too much sometimes.”

Before Vicky could pick up on this remark to probe how he was doing now that Celine was officially pronounced dead, Michael broke eye contact and closed the car door. He rounded the car to get in on his side.

As he started the engine, music began to play. Classical. A piano piece. A prelude by Chopin, one of her favorites.

Had Marge also told Michael that?

Apparently the whole night was set up as a luxury treatment for her. She’d better enjoy every second of it.

Michael said, “So there is going to be a scavenger hunt starting tomorrow. First thing I saw when I drove to town from the airport. The posters were everywhere.”

Vicky shot him an amused glance. “Thanks for exaggerating my success. We printed off around thirty.”

Michael looked over his shoulder to back out of her driveway. “Must be more. I counted at least ten on my way over here.”

“Oh. How odd.” Vicky glanced down to ensure the seat belt was not messing with her dress. “Maybe Bob didn’t have time to drive around and he all put them closely together? Well, never mind. As long as we have a reasonable turnout at the signing, I will be happy. Mostly for Bella’s sake. She is used to bigger events, I suppose. I don’t want her visit here to be a complete letdown.”

“You do know she’s under attack?”

The quiet question plopped like a stone into a pond. Vicky sat up, echoing, “Attack? How do you mean?”

“So you don’t know.” Michael’s hands tightened on the wheel. “At a book signing in spring some disturbed fan threw something at her.”

Vicky stared at Michael’s profile. “Are you sure it was her? I don’t remember reading anything about it in the newspapers.”

Her thoughts raced to make sense of the revelation. “Was Bella hurt? Did they get this person who did it? Is he in jail now?”

“I don’t think so. They don’t even know for sure if it was a man or a woman. Naturally when something was thrown across the room, panic broke out, and people were screaming and pushing each other. In the commotion he or she got away. Who knows where that disturbed fan is now? Whether he or she is still obsessed with Bella? With getting to her and hurting her?”

Vicky frowned. She hadn’t known about this and wasn’t happy to learn her guest author had been under attack, but it could have been an isolated incident. If there was a serious security issue, the PR people would have taken it up with Bella, she supposed.

Of course there had been the odd Mr. Giverny snooping around Bella’s door.

And Bella’s own insistence that she didn’t want to stay in a hotel…

Bella had explained it by referring to all the packing and unpacking, the beds that might not be comfy. That was a good enough reason.

But what if she avoided hotels because she felt vulnerable there, exposed? A hotel room could easily be broken into. Several people, such as cleaning personnel, had keys to the room. In an apartment on the other hand she’d be relatively safe.

In the meantime Michael said, “I just don’t like you getting involved with someone who has been under attack. Just a few weeks ago you might have been hurt when—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

Vicky took a deep breath. On a fun night like this she didn’t want to be reminded of her confrontation with Celine’s killer. That had been a surreal experience, something that only happened once in your life.

Those events surrounding the final resolution of Celine’s disappearance case had left them all a bit jumpy. They could be reading more into small things than was needed. Her thought for instance that Giverny’s mustache had come from a theater kit was pretty ludicrous. Yes, he had been a pushy person, but why assume he was changing his appearance? She had to stick to facts instead of jumping to conclusions.

She tried to sound certain when she said, “Nothing happened then, and nothing will happen now. Look, Bella didn’t tell me she’s under attack. I’m sure she would have mentioned security if it had been an issue for her. But she was really cheerful when we met. The incident at the signing happened some time ago, you say, and we have no way of knowing what really happened. Perhaps the person responsible is very sorry for what he or she did. And why assume someone would follow her all the way out here?”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. “You’re probably right. I just wanted to see if you knew about it. And I’ll come to the book signing tomorrow to keep an eye out for anything odd. People behaving out of the ordinary. OK?”

“That would make me feel much better. Thanks.” Vicky touched his arm a moment.

He looked at her and smiled.

The joy that he was back in town now hit her full force. She could count on Michael and her other friends to help her make Bella’s visit into a success.

As they arrived at the Rowland mansion, the grounds were ablaze with lanterns hung from trees and on lines extended from one tree to another. Expensive cars drove down the long driveway, and guests stepped out in front of the majestic house, all its tall windows alight.

There were hired valets to park the cars in designated places further away from the house. Vicky bet there would be a million dollars’ worth parked there for the night. No wonder Lilian engaged a security firm on such occasions.

On the terrace people stood talking, waiters mingling with trays full of champagne glasses. Vicky went inside on Michael’s arm.

Lilian stood at the foot of the broad carpeted stairs to greet everybody who came in. She was just talking to a tall man in a smart tuxedo, and when he half turned, Vicky recognized Cash Rowland. He looked very different than he did in his usual sheriff’s uniform.

Cash saw her as well and came over, smiling. “You look great. New hat? I didn’t bother getting anything special for the night. I still had this lying around from a wedding where I was best man.” He cast a quick look at Michael, then offered to get Vicky a drink.

Michael stepped back graciously. “I have to greet the hostess and ask her a few questions about the party, the guest list. Who is that guy by her side anyway? He looks around him like he owns the place.”

Cash grimaced. “That’s Lilian’s brother Sydney. He’s a lot younger and a bit on the wild side, even though Lilian will never admit that. He tried different colleges, didn’t fit in anywhere, then he tried different jobs that dear Daddy set him up in. All tanked as well. Of course it’s always somebody else’s fault, never his.”

Michael pursed his lips. “Sounds just like you back when we were in college.”

Cash turned red. “Not at all. I…”

Michael raised a hand, focusing on Vicky. “I will be back later. Save a dance for me, huh?” With a wink he walked away.

“Busy for the Gazette’s social column?” Cash chided. He took a deep breath, speaking low to Vicky, “Trust me when I say I know all about Sydney Haverton. Deke wasn’t amused when Lilian told him her brother had lost a job again and had to be set up with a position at Rowland Investment for the time being.”

Vicky hitched a brow. “Sydney is working in Deke’s company now? Just like that?”

“Working is a big word. Seems he doesn’t turn up when he should, misses meetings and in general behaves like he’s in charge while he has no idea about investments. But Deke can never say no to Lilian. He has to put up with Sydney, in the firm and here. Dear Sydney moved in, you know, for as long as he’s working at the company. Deke is mining all of his contacts to get Sydney a job elsewhere and be rid of him again. So far no luck.”

“Vicky!” Marge came up to her in an electric blue dress. With a matching fascinator on her red curls it looked stunning on her. The bright color enhanced the fire in her hair, and it looked as if she had just walked off a twenties’ painting.

Marge turned around slowly so Vicky could admire the dress’s waterfall back. Then Marge whispered in her ear, “You look amazing. How did Michael like it?”

“OK, I think. He didn’t really say. We talked about Bella and the book signing on the way over.”

Marge clicked her tongue and put a hand on her arm. “No talk about work tonight, OK? We’re here to have fun. Have you had champagne yet?”

“Cash is getting me some.”

Beside Marge, Kevin Fisher fidgeted uncomfortably in his tuxedo, running a finger round his collar. Like it was too tight. But every time he looked at his wife, his expression changed to pure adoration. Vicky figured that if anyone ever looked at her like that, she’d know it was true love.

Voices resounded behind them, and they turned to see Bella Brookes arrive. She wore a tight wine red dress that set off her blonde hair. The bodice was embroidered with intricate silver patterns. Her face was shadowed by a gigantic asymmetric hat in wine red and black, and she held a large fan in her hand of painted silk with an edge of peacock feathers.

The sum total was stunning.

People stood and stared while Bella walked by, nodding to all sides and then greeting the hostess.

Even Lilian lost her usual cool and stammered and flushed, then directed her guest of honor to the champagne.

Vicky grinned at Cash, who had just come back with glasses for the both of them. “I think Lilian already got what she wanted tonight. Bella is turning heads.”

“She’s pretty,” Cash said casually, “but a little too showy for me. Unreal. Like she should be on display at a museum.”

Bella came over to Vicky and Marge and introduced her party. A handsome man in an expensive suit was the PR mastermind Paul DuBree. He had a tall blonde woman on his arm. The woman was not introduced. Her dress was rather short and adorned with many silvery tassels that moved as she walked.

Bella said, “And here are our assistants. Paul’s right hand and our finance genius, Mark Miller. And my PA, Lisa Coombs.”

Lisa muttered a general hello. Her hat was pulled down into her face so deep that her eyes were barely visible.

Vicky was a little surprised that the assistants had been invited at all. She could understand Lilian had wanted DuBree, who had a reputation in his own right, but Lisa was merely an aide to Bella, and so was Mark Miller.

Had DuBree simply brought his entire retinue because he was used to it?

As the company moved away to meet other people, Marge said to Vicky, “That girl Lisa doesn’t look very happy. I wonder how she got the job with Bella.”

Vicky shrugged. “Probably a student on a summer job. I think Bella mentioned in an email that Lisa was an English lit major?” She sipped at her champagne. Alcohol always went to her head fast and made her giggly and willing to take risks. Better take it easy. The night was still young.

Bella emptied her glass in a few drafts and set it aside, laughing loudly at a joke made by Sydney Haverton. He seemed to be fascinated by this new face.

Vicky let her gaze drift over the people present, recognizing a few locals. The mayor, of course, with his wife. The mayor’s wife wore a green dress with two strings of pearls. The bank director with his wife. The bank director’s wife wore a white gown with matching wide-sleeved robe. All people with clout.

Then at the open doors into the garden Vicky saw a flash of a familiar face.

Bob Jones.

Strange that he had been invited too. She had been so certain Bob was not in Lilian’s league.

But maybe Lilian had felt generous?

Cash excused himself saying he had to talk to someone a minute and before Vicky knew it, Michael was back by her side. He put something in his pocket that was probably a cell phone. She hitched a brow at him. “No rest for the wicked?”

“Only taped a quote from our hostess and the guest of honor Miss Bella Brookes. All I have to do is type it up for the Gazette.”

“The edition is finalized by midnight, right? Can you make that?” Regret flooded her that he would be rushing off for work. His remark about work being too much sometimes suggested a deeper inner conflict she wanted to talk to him about. A quiet nightcap after the party seemed like the perfect opportunity for that.

Michael smiled down on her. “I’m finalizing it myself, before 1.00 a.m. For this single special occasion. I’d hate to leave this party early.”

Vicky held his gaze to determine his meaning. Then loud laughter drew her attention away from Michael. Bella Brookes leaned over to Sydney Haverton and put her gloved hand on his arm. Sydney smiled back and told her something.

Lilian glanced in their direction, alarm in her face. As Cash had just explained that Sydney was a bit of a player who hadn’t finished college and didn’t succeed in his jobs, Vicky could guess he wasn’t exactly the sort of brother Lilian wanted to show off to her friends.

I’d better intervene.

She excused herself to Michael and went over to Bella and Sydney. “Hello there. I’m sorry to intrude but I recall Lilian has a great conservatory here with beautiful tropical plants. She specifically offered to show it to you. I saw a lot of botanical gardens in the UK, and I love tropical plants. Shall we have a look together? The orchids should be especially lovely.”

Bella was interested at once. “I love orchids. I try my own hand at them from time to time. But somehow I always give them too much water and ruin them. The flowers drop off and after that, they just never blossom again. I need the secret to orchids that last.”

Sydney gestured to Lilian to come on over, and within minutes they were all in her conservatory, where Lilian launched into an excited exposition about the orchids and other rare plants that grew there.

Bella asked about special earth for the orchids, and Lilian admitted that her gardener knew everything about that. “I can ask him and let you know? Maybe we can do lunch before you leave town again?”

“That would be lovely,” Bella accepted with a smile. She used her big fan to wave cold air onto her face. Vicky had to admit it was pretty hot in the conservatory. Outside the day drew to a close, and in the deepening darkness the lanterns gave a fairy tale like atmosphere to the grounds. People were walking there, arm in arm, talking, laughing. Everybody seemed to be having fun.

As they came out into the hall again, Sydney was leading some men upstairs.

“I bet they are going to play pool.” Lilian’s disapproval showed in her face. “Sydney never liked a lot of socializing and dancing. I wish he would try though and stay in the party mood a little longer.”

Vicky spied round for Michael and saw him talking to Lisa Coombs. She was staring down at her feet, barely daring to look up at him. At the first chance she got she escaped to the outside. Vicky wondered if she felt as unhappy in her job as Marge had surmised.

Returning her attention to the other guests, Vicky accepted a glass of mineral water from a passing waiter and took a few refreshing sips. People were dancing in the big room to the left, to the tunes of a real orchestra. Vicky spotted Marge and Kevin gazing into each other’s eyes as if they were newlyweds. Michael had told her to save a dance for him, so she hoped he would come over soon. In the meantime she might take a spin with Cash. He had always been a good dancer.

She looked around for him and saw him at the other end of the room talking to a man in a gray suit—underdressed compared to the other guests. A waiter? Or some other member of the extensive staff hired to let everything run smoothly tonight?

Cash’s expression was worried, and he shook his head repeatedly. Then he raked through his hair, his well-known gesture of helplessness.

Vicky wondered what the man was asking him. It was obviously something Cash did not want to help out with. Why did he not simply refer the man to Lilian or Deke? They were the hosts of this party—although Lilian’s brother Sydney had been by her side earlier and acting like he was in charge. Apparently the Havertons all had quite domineering personalities.

Marge came up and whispered she had seen the refurbished dining room and spotted fabrics purchased through the Country Gift Shop. “I hope her friends love it and ask where she got it. Could bring us new customers. Decorating people’s homes will bring you more cash flow than just selling a few items in the store.”

“Right. I’m also thinking ahead to the festive season already. Companies like to gift something to their business relations for Christmas. Maybe we can do special British-themed sets for those?”

Vicky froze as she saw the man in the gray suit walk away. Something about the way he moved reminded her of someone.

Mr. Giverny, the nosy journalist who had tried to see Bella.

But as he had talked to Cash, she had seen his face clearly and he had not had a mustache. Had he shaved to change his appearance?

Had the mustache really been a paste-on?

Marge was saying, “Good idea. By the way, where is Bella? I haven’t seen her for some time.”

Vicky looked around. She didn’t see the flamboyant figure of the mystery author anywhere among the dancers. Or among the people walking around in the lantern light outside.

An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

“Maybe she went back to the conservatory,” Vicky said to Marge. “She was fascinated with the orchids. I bet she wants to use them in a new book. I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Vicky went into the conservatory softly and spotted two figures inside, melted into a passionate embrace. Paul DuBree panted as he kissed the woman again and again. But it was not his blonde companion for the night. That woman had worn her blonde hair loose with a conspicuous lime fascinator. This woman wore a large hat, and the single lock of hair on her back, which escaped from her do under the hat, was clearly dark.

Lisa Coombs?

If it really was the timid assistant, she had morphed into a femme fatale.

Vicky hastily retreated. As she came back into the hall, she saw Bella come down the stairs with Sydney Haverton. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled. She leaned heavily on the young man’s arm, whispering something into his ear. As she spotted Vicky, she waved at her. “Delightful party. Thanks so much for taking me along.”

Vicky answered with a wide smile. It was a relief to see Bella safe and sound, having fun. Then a hand landed on her arm. Michael stood by her side. “May I have this dance?”

She looked up into his warm brown eyes and forgot all about her guest. She had wanted to dance with Michael Danning at their college dances but he had never asked her. Of course she wasn’t nineteen anymore, but the idea she’d finally have her dance made her heartbeat skip. “Yes, please.”

Still she couldn’t resist asking, “Do you know someone called Giverny, working for a Haven Herald?”

“No. I don’t think there is a Haven Herald around these parts. Then again I don’t know each and every publication. It could be a weekly or monthly thing. Or a special summer magazine for the tourists maybe. How come?”

“Never mind.” She had promised Marge no more business tonight. “Let’s dance.”

Michael led her into the room where the orchestra was playing and put his arm around her waist. They fell into step with one another, following the slow enchanting rhythm of the music. They flew around the room, the figures of the people around them just a blur of colors.

Vicky closed her eyes a moment and let the music carry her. This dance should last forever. This perfect night of being with friends, feeling alive and happy and carefree. In a place she didn’t want to leave again.

The next morning Vicky awoke to the sound of someone banging on something. Her head seemed to bang along. She turned over under her duvet and tried to ignore the noise. She needed sleep.

Then she realized it was banging at the door of her cottage. She opened an eye and spied for the alarm clock.

Seven-thirty?

Who was asking for her attention at this insanely early hour?

Her store didn’t open till ten on Saturdays so she had hoped to be able to sleep in. After the party last night her head was a little fuzzy and her feet sore from the dancing in high heels. There had been so much dancing, with Michael and with Cash, even with Sydney Haverton who had turned out to be a good dancer who could make her laugh too.

It had been well after one o’clock when they had left the party. Michael had been late for his input at the paper and had dropped her off at the cottage with a quick good-bye, promising they’d catch up on his Copenhagen trip later.

Vicky had gone in and had done a little solo dancing in her hallway, moving around with her eyes closed and her head full of the intoxicating music. Then she had put the rose from the corsage in water, hoping it would last a day or two to look at.

The banging continued, and Vicky crawled out of bed, put on her soft pink dressing gown and low slippers, and staggered to her front door. She pulled it open and blinked at…

Lilian?

Vicky’s eyes opened wide. The fuzziness cleared with the shock of this sudden sight.

What on earth was posh Lilian Haverton Rowland doing at Vicky’s cottage early in the morning, looking like she hadn’t slept all night?

“I’m sorry,” Lilian said, her voice wobbly. “I didn’t mean to drag you out of bed. But I need your help. Sydney is gone and…” She burst into tears.

She said something more about somebody, but Vicky couldn’t make any sense of it. She took the woman’s arm and pulled her in, directed her into the kitchen and planted her on a chair. She felt a little self-conscious in her dressing gown, but she didn’t dare leave Lilian alone now that she was so upset and crying.

“We need a hot drink.” She filled her kettle with water for tea. “Calm down now and tell me all about it. You said that somebody was…”

“There is some body in my conservatory,” Lilian said between gasps. “It’s a man. He bled all over my tiles.”