B004183M70 EBOK (24 page)

Mr. Arturo broke in. "Scott, you might
be able to use her as a foot model. She's got great legs."

I smiled at Mr. Arturo, feeling like a
horse at auction, then said to Scott, "Mr. Roberts, all I want is fifteen minutes of your time. As I'm sure you know, all of
America loves Luci Baines Johnson, and she's a brunette."

"Miss Bennett's right, Scott," Mr.
Arturo said with a laugh. He stepped outside the ballroom and lit a cigarette.

My words didn't sway Scott, but I thought
Mr. Arturo's did.

Scott pulled a card from his inside suit
pocket and jabbed it in my hand. "This is my address. It'll have to be next
week."

"That's fine," I said eagerly.

"I have a shoot on Monday at five. You
can come a few minutes before then, and we'll talk while I'm setting up."

"Thank you," I said, but he
joined Mr. Arturo, and the two walked away, resuming their conversation.

About a hundred people remained in the
ballroom. The Wexfords, with Jeff by their side like a son, were still
accepting condolences.

Debbie Ann was talking to Maria and
pointing at the remaining food on the buffet line. I caught Maria's eye and
shook my head. She smiled.

I wished everyone would leave. I glanced at
my watch and saw it was two thirty. Another half hour to go.

Darlene and Cole were over by that awful
steak tartare. Darlene wore her sleeveless black silk sheath. She had her arms
folded over her chest. Cole's attention was on the steak tartare.

As I walked up to them, I heard Cole say,
"I can't believe you won't eat any of this, lambkin. All Texans like a
good piece of beef, doesn't have to be cooked. And why aren't you
drinking?"

"Because as a stewardess I'm not
allowed to drink for twenty-four hours before a flight," Darlene answered
crisply.

Cole laughed. "You're not going to
follow that silly rule."

"Bebe!" Darlene exclaimed.

I gave her a hug, whispering in her ear, "We've got to
talk. Now."

Cole saw me. "Hello, Bebe. I guess you know our good
news," he said, putting a possessive arm around Darlene.

"I heard some news, yes," I replied, feeling the
gloves were off between Cole and me.

Darlene broke away from Cole's embrace. "Excuse me,
Cole, I have to speak with Bebe."

He narrowed his eyes at me, creating at least twenty more
lines around his eyes. With his almost-bald head and that peering look, he
could have been an American bald eagle.

Darlene and I walked about twenty feet away from him.

She said, "What have you found out? I've seen you
buzzing around here like a bee going from flower to flower."

"Too much to tell right now. It'll have to wait for when
we're in the Virgin Islands."

"Like Cole is gonna leave my side," Darlene said.

"He'll probably fall asleep on the plane. Maybe we can
talk then—"

I froze.

"Bebe, what's wrong? Oh, no!" Darlene exclaimed,
turning in the direction of my gaze.

Detective Finelli and three uniformed NYPD officers had
walked into the ballroom.

My heart raced.

Without looking my way, Detective Finelli marched up to
Bradley, who had never moved from his place by the far wall.

Everyone in the room fell silent, all eyes on the police.

I broke away from Darlene and dashed over to Bradley's side.

Detective Finelli said, "Bradley Williams?"

He remained cool. "You know who I am. Somehow I think it
didn't go my way at the grand jury hearing this morning."

Detective Finelli was all business. "Bradley Williams, you are under arrest for the murder of Susan Ann
Wexford."

"No!" I cried. "He didn't do it!"

"Miss Bennett, please," Bradley said.

Without looking at me, Detective Finelli said, "Do you
wish to confess to the crime, Miss Bennett?"

For a split second I actually considered it. Finally I said,
"What about Mr. Pickering? Why is he allowing this to happen?"

"That's enough, Miss Bennett," Bradley said.

"You know what I think?" I asked Finelli, then
didn't wait for a reply. "I think Pickering's a bastard who hasn't
investigated this case properly. And neither have you, Detective Finelli. The
two of you looked pretty chummy that day at the jail."

"Miss Bennett!" Bradley said through gritted teeth.

Detective Finelli ignored me and brought out a pair of
handcuffs. He turned Bradley around and snapped the cuffs on him.

The sound of that click made tears run down my face.

"You son of a bitch! You killed my daughter! I hope they
fry you!" screamed Mr. Wexford. Mrs. Wexford held her head high, staring
at Bradley with a frigid expression.

Security guards rushed to Mr. Wexford, making sure he stayed
in his place.

Without warning, Jeff Granford charged toward Bradley,
emitting a horrible, animalistic howl. Three police officers restrained him,
putting Jeff in handcuffs too. Still, with three men holding him down on the
floor, Jeff yelled, "I'll kill you, Williams! I swear I will!" Two
other security guards ran over to assist the police.

Detective Finelli said, "Let's go, Williams."

Bradley said, "Give me three minutes with Miss
Bennett."

I drew in several breaths, wiped my face with a tissue pulled
from my purse, and glared at Detective Finelli.

"Three minutes, and I'm not moving," the detective
grunted.

Bradley said, "Could you turn around?"

Finelli held Bradley by the handcuffs and shifted position,
so that Bradley faced me. I moved closer.

"Stop crying and listen to me, kid," he said in his
husky voice.

"Yes," I said, but my tears had a will of their
own.

His gaze locked with mine. "I'm sorry for what I said
earlier about you and me going up to a room. I was way out of line—"

"You don't have to apologize."

"Will you be quiet and let me say what I have to say?
Because my hands aren't free to throttle you."

I let out a half laugh, half sob.

"I know very well that you aren't that kind of
girl." He looked away. "I, ah, live my life the way I do because . .
. well, dammit, because although I believe in marriage, I've become jaded over
the past ten years. I don't know if I'll ever change. This thing with Suzie
didn't help."

"You need to pick the right woman," I said, then
wished the words back, afraid I'd said too much.

But Bradley only nodded. "Someday. Maybe."

He looked at me again. "I know you're ready to take over
the shoot in the Virgin Islands."

More tears. He did believe in me.

"Make me proud, kid."

"I will," I managed.

"And don't let the words bastard and damn come out of
your pretty mouth again. You're not the kind of girl who swears."

I could only nod, drowning in his eyes.

"No more of that perfume you've got on again today
despite what I—"

"Let's go, Williams," Detective Finelli demanded.

"Hang on a second," Bradley told Finelli. Then to
me, "No more crying. Pickering will get me out on bail."

"He'd better!" I said fiercely.

Bradley smiled. "That's my girl."
Detective Finelli led him away. The officers took Jeff with them. I watched
until Finelli escorted Bradley out of the ballroom.

Debbie Ann, standing a short distance away,
said, "I did try to tell you, Bebe." I collapsed into Darlene's
waiting arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Darlene had a tight grip on me. A good thing because, as she
led me through the ballroom, the gold-colored carpet kept rising up and down.

From behind us, Cole said, "What's the matter with Bebe?
Why is she so upset about a killer being arrested?"

Darlene said, "He's her boss, Cole."

"Not anymore."

Darlene halted our progress long enough to turn her head and
say, "Cole, shut up."

Then I heard Maria's voice. "Bebe, the truth will come
out. Keep that knowledge close to your heart."

I nodded and accepted my black pillbox hat from her.
"Maria, would you tell the management that Ryan will settle the bill on
Monday?"

"You know I will."

Outside on the sidewalk, the street noises of honking horns
and crowds of people talking jolted me. A cool wind brushed my face. I raised
my head and took a deep breath. Thank goodness there were no photographers
around. Still, I felt sick, overwhelmed, and frightened. And dark clouds
remained over the city.

Darlene said, "Cole, Bebe and I are taking a cab
home."

"But I thought the two of us were going to Bonwit Teller
to buy those shoes you liked, then get your suitcase and go to the
airport."

Darlene tapped her stiletto on the
sidewalk. "Those plans have changed. I'm going home with Bebe—"

"Please, you don't have to," I
said softly.

"See there," Cole said. "No
reason to ruin our—"

Darlene went on as if no one had spoken.
"And Bebe and I are going to change our clothes. My suitcases and Bebe's
are at the apartment, so we'll get a cab to the airport together. You can meet
us at the Skyway gate."

"What?" Cole said, his voice
tinged with anger. "Bebe's coming with us on what's supposed to be the
first part of our honeymoon?"

"Bebe is running the photo shoot for
Ryan now that her boss is temporarily inconvenienced," Darlene said
impatiently.

Cole laughed. "You have to be
joking."

Before I could gather the strength to sock
Cole a good one, Darlene said, "No, I'm not joking, Cole. Bebe was the
only reason I did another stew a favor by working this flight. You're the one
who turned it into part of our honeymoon. I'll see you on the plane."

With that, her arm still linked with mine,
Darlene walked us to the street and whistled for a taxi. We got in, and I
stared sightlessly out the window the whole way home. Bless her, she left me in
peace.

Arriving at East Sixty-fifth, we got out of
the cab.

Harry lounged on our front stoop. "Who
died? The two of ya look like old crones . . . uh, crows."

Boozed again. "A woman we knew,
Harry," I said.

"Let's go, Bebe," Darlene commanded.

I opened my purse, and a tissue flew out.
Digging into my wallet, I said, "Harry, I'm going away for a couple of
days." I reached out to hand him a dollar. "Please get some food and
coffee."

Darlene tried to block my hand that held
the money. A struggle ensued. I almost fell to the stoop, but I was determined
that Harry not beg on the street. In a fast move, I ducked my arm under
Darlene's, and Harry got the money.

"Thank you, Miss Sweet Face," he
said. A bleary eye gleamed at Darlene. "Redheads. Nothing but
trouble."

"You take advantage of her
kindness," Darlene shot back.

Now I was the one leading Darlene as we
passed Harry, entered the building, and walked up the steps to our apartment.

"I don't know why you give that bum
money," Darlene complained, closing the door behind her.

"He needs help," I replied.
"One day I'm going to find out why he lives on the streets."

"Because he's a wino, that's
why," she said. Then, "Oh, honey, let's not argue. I know it was
horrible watching Bradley being taken away by that stubborn mule Detective
Finelli. But you have to be strong for Bradley now. We'll find the
killer."

"I think Lola killed Suzie. She had
the most to gain, that I know of. At the reception, Lola was almost giddy with
happiness."

Darlene raised a brow. "Really? Then
it's just peachy that she'll be along for the trip. We need to talk about
this."

"We will. You're my best friend,
Darlene, you know that. Thanks for taking me home. But once we get on that
plane, I'm going to be Lola's best friend."

Darlene smiled. "I like it when you
think deviously." Then, "Honey, no offense, but your face is a mess.
We need to change clothes and freshen up fast. Being a stewardess, I have to be
at the airport no later than five to sign in and get the plane ready."

"Hey, check it out! I wanna fly with
you, sweetheart!"

"Baby, tell me where you're going so I
can buy a ticket."

"Red! Over here! Coming home to the
city? I can show you a good time. I've got lots of money to spend on a gal like
you."

And so it went, all through the airport.
Darlene smiled at the guys, but kept walking, me by her side.

I had on my prettiest pink suit, but I couldn't compare to
the striking picture Darlene made in her Skyway uniform of a bright, sky-blue
suit, dyed-to-match high heels, white gloves, and a tall sky-blue pillbox hat,
which she had placed on her red curls at a jaunty angle.