Part 13 (1/2)
”And to find out what was happening.”
”So you could keep me apprised?”
”You, I'm going to keep out of trouble.”
I stepped away and huffed.
”Per Eve's request,” Werner said, ”I'm also supposed to protect you from the worms in the Big Apple.”
”Oh, for heaven's sakes, there are worms everywhere, even in Mystic. Haven't we proved that?” But I looked back at the empty stand for the casket and s.h.i.+vered.
”Are you cold? Do you want me to have them turn down the air-conditioning?” Werner suddenly looked like the protective, sensitive guy who'd once saved me from a fire and carried me home in the middle of the night.
Twenty-seven.
It is as if each of us has one t.i.tular robe, and it is that special black dress that is both chic and armor.
-EDNA O'BRIEN, MIRABELLA Restless, in the lush foyer parlor, Broadway and Hollywood greats were milling about waiting for a nod to file in beside the missing coffin. In other words, they wanted to pay their respects to Dominique. Never mind that some of them, not all by any means, didn't know the meaning of the word ”respect.”
A few I had designed clothes for under Faline's label during my years here in the New York fas.h.i.+on industry. There were several greats, who, under less serious circ.u.mstances, I might be tempted to fan-s...o...b..r over.
Thank the occasion for dignity.
There were also designer mourners, with ruthlessly cold blood, who I already suspected could have murdered Dom.
”Who do you think killed her?” Werner asked, suddenly beside me.
”Have you been reading my mind?”
”Mind reading. I thought that was your territory.”
”What?” What the h.e.l.l did he know? I'd definitely never mentioned my visions to Werner. He already thought I was a scatterbrain. I didn't want him to question my sanity.
”You said you were here because Ms. DeLong trusted your intuitive instincts.”
Oh. Whew. ”Okay, here are my prime suspects so far, because they all had means, motive, and opportunity,” I whispered. ”At first look, Ursula Uxbridge, understudy, who got Dom's starring role in Diamond Sands. The morning papers said she was a hit last night, better than Dom, the best ever to play the role, sad to say. Though I'm not sure she has the smarts.
”Second suspect, Ian DeLong, ex- husband, ex-dad, brilliant, if greedy, business partner, who will probably inherit the other half of Dom's business interests because of the sheer genius partners.h.i.+p contract that couldn't be broken, even in the divorce.
”Three, Zander Pollock, world-cla.s.s private chef. Dom died from a lethal dose of peanuts, and that allergy is why she hired Pollock in the first place. She couldn't smell a peanut without her throat tightening.”
”The chef is too obvious,” Werner said.
”Gee, thanks.”
”I hate to tell you, but so's the ex and the understudy. Got anybody else?”
”Shudup!”
Werner shook his head and walked away.
I peeked into the waiting area, again. Dominique had friends in high places who thought that being seen at her wake and memorial service would help their careers. Or they might meet someone here who could.
The outfit of the day was the little black dress; the subject of much fas.h.i.+on study, primarily credited to Coco Chanel, and was responsible for my fas.h.i.+on nook, Little Black Dress Lane, a very busy place in my shop.
While Kyle talked to the funeral director about the missing casket, Eve stood on tiptoe behind me, peeking into the luxurious cream, gold, and blue foyer waiting room at the stars gathered there. ”Hey, Mad, I see a dress that says, 'Take me, big boy.' ”
”What?” I asked, craning my neck. ”Mae West is here?”
Eve gave me a raised brow.
I shrugged. ”I'm just saying.”
She returned to her gawking.
”Eve, that angry woman in the scanty black Oscar de la Renta looks familiar. Do you remember who she is?”
”Angry woman?” Kyle asked. Now behind us, he stood a head taller and had a clearer view. ”Oh, that's Galina Lockhart, remember? Mom's primary rival. Galina's dress and stance say she's p.i.s.sed at being kept waiting. She's also jealous that Mom is in here and she's not.”
”Huh?” Eve said. ”She wants to be dead?”
”No, Galina has always simply wanted to be more important than my mother in any situation, and if she doesn't get her way, move over or she'll mow you down.”
Twenty-eight.
The consciousness of being perfectly dressed may bestow a peace such as religion cannot give.
-HERBERT SPENCER As Eve moved away, I saw two people coming through the celebrity throng who warmed my heart. ”Dad?” I called. ”Aunt Fiona?”
They saw me, headed my way, and I let them in, ignoring the grumbles from the people I closed out.
”Dad,” I said, my eyes welling up. ”I've never been happier to see anyone in my life.”
Kyle turned away, but I caught his arm. ”Kyle, I want you to meet my parents.”
My father paled.
”I mean, this is my dad, Professor Harry Cutler.”
”Professor,” Kyle said, shaking his hand. ”Your daughter's a marvel.”
My dad preened just a bit. ”I know.”
I hooked my arm through Aunt Fee's. ”And this is my aunt Fiona.”