Part 3 (2/2)
”Yours?” she asked CJ, and CJ said, ”Yes.”
”Fabulous!” Poppy twittered again, aware that everyone was watching her, as if they'd been suspended in her precarious air.
”Simply fabulous!” she repeated, her timbre a bit higher than she would have liked. She twirled back to CJ. ”Now where is the kitchen? Do we have b.l.o.o.d.y Marys? I believe I could use one or two.”
Eight.
Yolanda was the only one who opted for coffee instead of a b.l.o.o.d.y Mary. Then again, Yolanda hadn't been there when the gardener was murdered.
Alice meandered around the room, not wanting to witness Poppy's behavior, but not wanting to look out the window to the garden, where she surely would picture the yellow Police-Do Not Cross tape ribboned through the innocent pink and white blossoms.
She sat on the sofa and stared at the fireplace until a furnace flared up from her feet.
Finally, everyone had a beverage, everyone was seated, and everyone waited for Elinor to hold court.
”So,” Elinor began, ”do we have any ideas how we're going to find out who my blackmailer is?”
Alice cleared her throat. ”What about the note? Did it come in the mail?”
”No. It was overnighted. A standard courier service. The sender was a phony name and address somewhere in Manhattan. I've already checked that out.” A long fingernail traced the crease on her ivory cotton pants.
”What about the hotel?” Yolanda asked. ”Were you at the Lord Winslow with your lover? Is that why your panties were there?”
Alice blanched.
Poppy blinked.
CJ seemed to take a deep breath.
Sometimes Yolanda was a little too outspoken for the ladies of Mount Kasteel.
”Yes,” Elinor finally replied. ”I met my lover there Thursday night,” she continued. ”We've often been careful to meet out of town.”
Out of town? Alice gulped, even though this was not about her.
”We need to start there,” Yolanda said. ”Whoever it was might have been spying on you, maybe waiting to find evidence to hold up for ransom. Your panties were their mother lode.”
They thought, they drank, they bit their lips and played with their hair. Actually, it was Poppy who played with her hair.
”Alice and Poppy,” Yolanda continued, ”the two of you should go to the hotel. You can tell the manager that you're Elinor's friends. Show them her picture. Say she left something behind and you've come to get it.”
”Me?” Poppy asked. ”Me?”
”Well, not me,” the hairdresser-slash-nail-tech replied. ”No one would believe I'm Elinor's friend.”
They blanched and blinked and deep-breathed again.
”Why doesn't Elinor go herself?” Alice continued. ”Or have CC go in her place?” She'd meant to say CJ, really she had, but ”CC” had slipped out. It had been a tongue-in-cheek way she and Poppy had referred to CJ when they were kids, CC meaning ”carbon copy,” the besmirched, lesser twin who'd not been quite as grand or as snooty as Elinor. When they were fourteen, snooty had been good.
Yolanda stood up and walked to the fireplace. ”If Elinor is being followed, the blackmailer might mistake CJ for her. If he thinks either one of them is snooping, who knows what he'll do.” She looked at Elinor. ”Did he say what his next step will be?”
”The note said to stay where I am, which I suppose means at the country house. I don't know if I'll hear more in a day or a week.”
”In the meantime, maybe we can learn something.”
”Oh,” Poppy said, ”I don't know if I can do this.”
”Yes, you can,” Alice said. ”You're stronger than you used to be.”
”I am? That's right. I am.”
Yolanda ignored them. ”You should bring a picture. Preferably one of the three of you: Elinor, Alice, and Poppy. That way, whoever you show the picture to will know that you're friends.”
”What if the hotel people say, 'I remember her. But she left nothing behind'?” Alice asked.
”Ask if they're sure. Ask if someone else might have already picked something up.”
”And if they say yes?”
”Ask what he looks like. Act as if it's fun, as if he must be another of Elinor's friends.”
”What if it's not a he but a she?” That came from Poppy.
”I can't imagine a woman being this scary,” CJ said.
No one mentioned Poppy's mother.
Then Elinor asked, ”Do you think you can do this? Pretend you're my friend?”
Alice smiled. If nothing else, this game might be safer than the one she'd been playing. ”We are your friends, Elinor. You'd do it for us.” Wouldn't she?
”But what if the person we ask turns out to be the blackmailer?” Poppy asked.
Yolanda shrugged. ”Look, I have no idea if this will work. But we can try.”
”Please,” Elinor said. ”For the sake of my marriage.”
More sighing and drinking and hair curling followed.
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