10 Lethal Black Dress (9 page)

“Oh yes, it’s going to be a multi-day event. Didn’t I tell
you?”

“No! What about the honeymoon?”
Weren’t they supposed to
scurry off and disappear for a month of so?
Was Lacey supposed to give up
the Sunday after Felicity’s wedding too?

“After the festivities. Anyway, these breakfast muffins are
so versatile, I can write about them now and pre-test for the wedding. Killing
two birds with one stone.”

Even though Lacey and Felicity had a tortuous history—they
had disliked each other on sight—they were now “friends.”
Sort of.
Lacey
cleared Felicity as a suspect in the assault of a coworker, earning her trust.
She had also
encouraged
Wiedemeyer to break the ice with Felicity. In
the process, she helped mitigate, though not eradicate, his reputation as the
office jinx, earning his undying gratitude. For Felicity and Harlan, Lacey’s
role in bringing them together created a debt of honor, and so she was now
included in the wedding party as one of the bridesmaids and was unwillingly
privy to nearly every detail of Felicity’s wedding planning. Mostly about the
food.

She couldn’t think about that right now. Lacey hunted for
another of her custom-imprinted FASHION
BITES
mugs: no luck. She picked
up the one Broadway had used so she could fill it again.

“Why, thanks. Don’t mind if I do. Black,” Lamont said.

In the coffee room, she found a random clean mug for her own coffee
and ran into LaToya Crawford, bouncing into the office earlier than usual.

“Lacey Smithsonian, girl, you gotta tell me what else you
know about that Courtney Wallace! She’s dead as a doornail.”

“That’s all I know. Well, basically.”

“Must feel awkward, after your big fight.”

“It wasn’t that big a fight. But yeah, a little,” Lacey
admitted.

LaToya matched her high-heeled stride to Lacey’s and turned
the corner toward the fashion beat’s cubicle, dressed in a hot pink sheath
dress and pink and green striped high-heeled shoes. She didn’t let the fashion
world’s tirades against “matchy-matchy” bother her, nor did she heed Lacey’s usual
caution against wearing too much pink in Washington, D.C. She went with her
mood and today her pink dress was a banner headline that said spring was here.

Although the famous cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin
were gone and replaced by green leaves, the double cherries were still out and
the azaleas and rhododendrons were running riot in shades of pink, purple,
fuchsia, and white. LaToya seemed to be channeling Mother Nature in her ensemble.

LaToya stopped short when she spied Lamont at Lacey’s
cubicle. A slow smile lit up her face and she forgot all about interrogating Lacey
about Courtney.

“Why, Detective Broadway, good morning to you. What brings
you to our humble abode?”

Lacey lifted an eyebrow. She hadn’t found out yet whether the
detective and LaToya had hooked up after the dinner. If they had, maybe Lamont
was also here to see LaToya. What if sparks had flown, the earth had moved, two
hearts now beat as one?

Not another crazy wedding to get roped into.

Felicity made a welcoming noise. LaToya perched on the edge
of Lacey’s desk and leaned slowly and seductively over Lamont to pick out one
of the savory muffins. It was getting very crowded in her cubicle, and a little
steamy. Lacey gestured for LaToya to move, but she ignored her. Lacey grabbed
her desk chair and held tight to her mug of coffee.
So much for my
ease-quietly-into-the-workweek plan.

As if overhearing her thoughts, Mac joined the cozy huddle in
her cubicle with a full mug of coffee, the last cup in the pot. His mug also
said FASHION
BITES.

“Mac, you’re early,” Lacey said, grateful that Felicity had
something for a hungry editor. “And with my missing mug. My life is now
complete.”

Mac fished around in the muffin tray, selecting one of each.
He took one bite, before addressing the big homicide detective.

“Why are you here, Lamont? Besides Felicity’s famous muffins.
This can’t be good news.”

“Courtney Wallace.”

“That screwy TV dame? Tragic. Weekend news department had a
news brief.” The small story appeared in the back of the Monday early edition
news section. It was Mac’s turn to give Lacey the side-eye. “Smithsonian got
something to do with this?”

“It’s not murder, if that’s what you mean, but Smithsonian
pointed the way. Credit where credit is due.” Lamont indicated Lacey with his
mug.

“How did she point the way?”

“Fashion clue. Paris Green. Killer dye. The dress did it.”

Mac sighed meaningfully. “Follow up on this, Smithsonian.
You’ve got the inside track. Check with Hansen. If he got some good frames of
her, we’ll run it front page. Color. Below the fold.”

Lamont turned to Lacey. “You know how to play this,
Smithsonian. Ongoing investigation. Preliminary lab results. Senior police
official who asked not to be named. Blah blah blah. Run with it, but keep my
name out of it.”

“Thanks, Broadway.” She was trying to gather her thoughts and
write a few notes, but it was hard, in the crowded cacophony her corner had
become.

It was Tony Trujillo’s turn to follow his nose to the aroma of
Felicity’s cooking. Monday morning could sometimes be a traffic jam at the food
editor’s desk, but this was getting ridiculous.

“Now what?” Tony said when he spotted the detective munching
a muffin with half
The
Eye
’s senior staff crowded around Lacey’s
cubicle. The police reporter seemed to be out of the loop on this story.
“What’s Broadway giving you, Lois Lane, that he’s not giving me? Wait a minute,
this isn’t about Courtney Wallace?”

“You can read all about it when I finish my story.” Lacey
turned to her keyboard, an expressive action that usually signaled to her
fellow reporters to go away. It wasn’t working.

“Funeral’s on Tuesday,” Lamont said.

“Tomorrow?” Lacey said. “Pretty quick work on that autopsy.
Quick for the District, anyway. ”

He shrugged. “So they tell me. People got to bury their dead
and test results can take a while. Lab’s got tissue samples, don’t need the
whole corpse.”

“Does anyone else have the toxic dress information?” she
asked.

“Not so far as I know. Not from me, anyway.”

“Lunch is on me, Broadway. Say when.”

“When can I join the two of you?” LaToya asked with a purr.

The detective grunted and reached for another breakfast
muffin on his way out the newsroom door. The muffins were small. Broadway
Lamont was large. LaToya looked after him longingly.

He’ll be back,
Lacey thought.
It’s going to take a
lot of those little muffins to fill him up.

CHAPTER 10

Lacey was too busy to
thank Felicity
(and perhaps LaToya too) for producing the delicacies that drew Lamont. She
needed to get this story written, edited by Mac, and posted online before the
other media knew what hit them. She had calls to make and details to confirm.
Tony called the medical examiner’s office for her. He told Lacey the spokesman
wouldn’t confirm the cause of death, nor deny it.

She checked first on Channel One News online to make sure
their reporters didn’t have this information too. They didn’t. The station
issued a brief news release on Courtney Wallace, Emmy winner, young, talented,
and with a bright future in front of her, “mysteriously cut short by tragedy,”
“ongoing investigation, no official information at this time,” et cetera. No
mention was made of the suspected cause of death, or about why Courtney
switched from hard investigative news to soft serve.

Although the station must have had footage of Courtney’s
collision with the tray of champagne, it hadn’t aired. Station managers were
holding it back for some reason. Lacey didn’t think it had anything to do with their
taste or delicate sensibilities. It probably had more to do with Courtney’s
colorful language in the immediate aftermath.

On the station’s Web site a clip from earlier in the evening
was playing without sound, but with a voice over. Courtney was in the glorious
Madame X dress, flashing her trademark smile into the camera, as the voice over
cut to her own signoff: “Reporting to you live from the White House
Correspondents’ Dinner, I’m Courtney Wallace, Channel One News.”

That dinner was supposed to wrap up her series on vintage
fashion, Lacey reflected. Ironically, it wrapped up everything for Courtney
Wallace.

The station’s news release to the print media did not include
a photo of Courtney. Lacey remembered she’d taken her own cell phone shot of
the immediate aftermath of the champagne incident. Her photo was clear and well
framed. Courtney looked shocked, the waiter stunned, the spilled champagne
dripping. She didn’t know how her snapshot would compare to Hansen’s
professional DSLR pics, but it was raw and immediate. She emailed a copy of it to
Mac to let him use his editorial judgment. After all, that’s why he made the
big bucks.

Lacey started typing. Her article on the demise of Courtney
Wallace and her cause of death was edited and online in an hour, with her photo
and one of Hansen’s. It was sent as a Crime of Fashion special news report to
The
Eye
’s subscribers.

Lethal Black Dress Cited in TV
Personality’s Death

By
Lacey Smithsonian

Local
television personality Courtney Wallace’s sudden death following the White
House Correspondents’ Dinner Saturday night is being attributed by an unnamed
source in the Metropolitan Police to a rare dye called Paris Green, used in the
lining of her gown. The dye is made from copper acetoarsenite, and when wet, releases
toxic arsine gas. This effectively turned her
little
black dress into a
lethal
black dress.

The
weather may have contributed to the release of the dye’s toxins, as it was
raining and humid Saturday night. Additionally, in a mishap prior to the
Correspondents’ Dinner, Wallace’s dress was soaked with champagne when a waiter
spilled a tray of drinks on her. The unnamed source also noted that Wallace’s
health might have been in a weakened condition due to possible influenza.

The
striking vintage gown Wallace wore was black satin with a visible emerald green
lining. It closely resembled a gown worn in the famous painting by John Singer
Sargent, called
Portrait of Madame X
. The portrait dates from 1884 and
was both celebrated and controversial. The Madame X gown has been copied many
times and has inspired countless imitations…

Life could be short and often brutal. The best intentions
were seldom achieved. Love lost was a tragedy. Lacey stared at her ringless
finger and Vic surfaced in her mind. She made her decision.

Her editor sidled into sight, heading for Felicity’s desk. No
doubt looking for leftover muffin crumbs.

“Mac, I’m taking tomorrow off,” Lacey said. “I have plenty of
hours of leave.”

“Going to the funeral? Knock yourself out. If you’re not back
by Wednesday, I’m putting Kavanaugh at your desk.”

“Yeah, you do that.” She stifled a laugh. “That freckle-faced
puppy doesn’t know the first thing about fashion. Good choice, Mac.”

Kelly Kavanaugh was young, full of energy, and she wanted to
be a Serious Reporter in the worst way, which was, sadly, the way she wrote her
stories. She bounced around the newsroom like a ping-pong ball, mostly filling
in. She’d tried the police beat with Tony, but was shooed away. Kavanaugh was
also interested in covering Lacey’s fashion beat, but only when it involved real
crimes. Her eyes crossed when it came to writing about trends and designers and
social context. Accessories made Kelly cry. Shopping made her comatose. She had
no knack for knits and she dressed like a sports reporter at a rag sale.

Lacey shook her head at the thought of Kavanaugh manning her
desk, while she called Vic and made a date for ring shopping in Baltimore,
after the funeral.

Within minutes, Lacey’s phone started ringing. Her “Lethal
Black Dress” story was being read online. The first call was from Channel One.
Their news editor demanded to know where she got her information. Lacey’s repeated
“no comment” didn’t give them what they wanted. Despite feeling bad about
Courtney, she wasn’t about to make it easy for the competition.

It was time to get some lunch and satisfy her curiosity about
a certain actor. On her way out, Lacey caught sight of a pink and green blur.
“LaToya, do you have a minute?”

“Sure thing. Help me fix my lipstick.”

Lacey followed LaToya into the ladies’ room, otherwise known around
the newsroom as the Women’s Conference Room, because of the amount of
information that was traded there. LaToya grabbed her purse and took out a
bright pink MAC lipstick and lip pencil that matched her ensemble.

“What’s up, girlfriend?”

“Don’t be coy with me, LaToya. What’s up with you and
Broadway Lamont? Did you connect with him after the Correspondents’ Dinner?
Inquiring minds want to know!”

LaToya paused to admire her reflection in the mirror. She
carefully removed the remains of her old lipstick, then lined her lips. “You
would be talking about that delicious hunk of a man you brought as your guest?”

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”

LaToya laughed and slicked the lipstick on, right to left.
She smacked her lips together. “We went for an all-too-brief drink. After all
the excitement with Courtney being shoveled into the ambulance.” She blotted
her lips, then reapplied. LaToya had a master’s touch with makeup. “Alas, he
left all too soon.”

“Don’t pout. You’ll ruin your lip liner.”

“Don’t pout? Easy for you to say.” She blew a kiss to her
reflection. “I’m still pouting. I was perfection on Saturday. Ready and willing
to extend our friendship into something a little friendlier. And the big man
bolts. Just like that. I don’t get it.”

Lacey took out a comb and ran it through her hair. “Maybe you
should tone down the, um, perfection a bit. Honestly, LaToya, I think he’s
afraid of you.”

“A man that large, that fierce, that ferocious, afraid of
me?” She tossed her cosmetics back into her purse and snapped it shut. “Story
of my life.”

“For the record, I know he finds you extremely attractive.
Little bird told me. Well, a big bird.”

“But not irresistible? Attractive but
resistible
is
not what I am going for,” LaToya said.

“I know. Maybe you just came on a little too strong.”

“That man is a mighty bull elephant, and I should come on
like a mouse? Well, I’m not giving up on Broadway Lamont. He is too big and
tall and delectable to give up the elephant hunt.”

“Don’t let him know that.”

“I hear you, girlfriend, but sadly, Lacey, subtlety is not my
strong suit. Or maybe you hadn’t noticed.”

Lacey could hardly keep her face straight. “Give him time.”

“I’ll give Broadway all the time he needs. As long as it’s
still while I have my youth and beauty. I see he gave you a big beautiful story
on Courtney Wallace.”

“I gave him the fashion clue. And I’m grateful.”

LaToya paused for a moment of reflection. “That’s a terrible
way to die. I mean, we’ve all worn fashion mistakes, and we’ve all died of
embarrassment. But how many outfits turn on us and kill us? How many of us
really die from wearing the wrong dress?”

“I think you just quoted one of my columns.”

“I’m sure I did, I do it all the time. How do I look?”

“Perfectly awesome. Very pink.”

“Good. I’m off to cover a city council meeting. And I might
have my eye on a certain someone else if Big Bad Broadway doesn’t work out.”

LaToya sailed out the door. Lacey wondered if LaToya came
from a long line of Amazonian women. She was fierce enough to be an Amazon queen.