Designer Knockoff (13 page)
“But I had the impression that Gloria—”
“I don’t want to say anything negative about her.” He shifted around in his chair, tapping his stick on the floor and stroking the smooth wood handle. “But she had fantasies, fantasies about me that were unrealistic, to say the least. Today they would probably call her a stalker.”
Gloria? A stalker?
But then, Hugh had been incredibly handsome in his youth, still dashing at eighty-something. And Gloria? She had the bloom of youth, the freshness that was always alluring. But she was no beauty. Certainly not in comparison with Marilyn Hutton, who had been graced with classic good looks, and a healthy income to make the most of those looks. Yet Gloria had written,
When Hugh and I go out.
Lacey thought it was ironic that today someone like frizzy-haired Gloria could come pretty close to being a knockout, with her figure and all the cosmetic and hairstyling options available. That and a good eyebrow waxing. She could imagine Stella saying, “Let me at her, I’ll turn her into a silk purse, no prob.” Lacey was about to stand up to go when Hugh took her hand.
But then, Hugh had been incredibly handsome in his youth, still dashing at eighty-something. And Gloria? She had the bloom of youth, the freshness that was always alluring. But she was no beauty. Certainly not in comparison with Marilyn Hutton, who had been graced with classic good looks, and a healthy income to make the most of those looks. Yet Gloria had written,
When Hugh and I go out.
Lacey thought it was ironic that today someone like frizzy-haired Gloria could come pretty close to being a knockout, with her figure and all the cosmetic and hairstyling options available. That and a good eyebrow waxing. She could imagine Stella saying, “Let me at her, I’ll turn her into a silk purse, no prob.” Lacey was about to stand up to go when Hugh took her hand.
“I have a question for you now, Lacey Smithsonian. Would you consider donating your Bentley suit to this collection? The one you wore to the Senate. It’s quite smashing. Particularly with the button covers. I was always very fond of those button covers.”
“My suit?”
Give away Mimi’s suit? That bastard!
It was as if Lacey could hear Aunt Mimi shouting clear through her thoughts. She didn’t know whether the thought of Mimi’s indignation or Hugh’s question startled her more.
Give away Mimi’s suit? That bastard!
It was as if Lacey could hear Aunt Mimi shouting clear through her thoughts. She didn’t know whether the thought of Mimi’s indignation or Hugh’s question startled her more.
“It would be your legacy, or your aunt’s, if you wish. It would be one of our premier ensembles from the Forties. I could even commission a special mannequin to wear it, one that would look just like you.” He took her stunned silence for a serious consideration of his question. “Just think about it.”
That suit was one of Lacey’s treasures. Even though Mimi had refused to wear it, the old woman had kept it forever. It must have had some strong sentimental pull. The last thing she would want was for “That Bastard” to get his hands on it.
Mimi would return from the grave just to haunt me.
Mimi would return from the grave just to haunt me.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bentley. A plaque with my name on it is no equal for the suit. For you the suit is just a great example of its kind. For me it’s truly one of a kind. And I plan to wear it, not visit it.” She stood up to leave.
“Don’t be so hasty.” He leaned on the cane to stand up and moved close to her. “You say you don’t shop at Bentley’s, but what would you say to a trade?” Her head was spinning. He was crafty; she gave him that. “Any Bentley couture gown that you desire, for the suit,” Hugh went on. “No, no, make it any
two
gowns. That suit of yours really is more than just a great example of its kind to me. It brings back an entire era for me. A lifetime.”
two
gowns. That suit of yours really is more than just a great example of its kind to me. It brings back an entire era for me. A lifetime.”
She smiled broadly, hoping to outcharm him. “That’s very kind of you, Hugh. But really, I’m keeping the suit.”
He patted her hand. “Think about it, Lacey Smithsonian. The offer remains open. Call me anytime, or leave word with Chevalier. I trust I’ll see you at the gala?”
“You can count on it.”
chapter 8
“What I’m saying is that Esme was seeing Aaron Bentley, as in
seeing him,
not just, you know, seeing him around.”
seeing him,
not just, you know, seeing him around.”
Miss Marcia Robinson herself, a glossier version of the famous former frump who had been Washington’s favorite scandal pinup girl in the spring, was sitting across from Lacey at Starbucks, slumped down in a plush olive-green velvet armchair. Between bursts of conversation, she was ogling all the male latte sippers, and Lacey was taking notes.
Lacey had barely gotten back to the office when she received a frantic call from Marcia, who claimed to have hot information on Esme that just might help Lacey—and might even, quote, “get me killed!” With the promise of a near-tabloid-sized news story, Lacey was off like a shot to have coffee with a very self-possessed Ms. Robinson, who hardly seemed in fear for her life. Marcia claimed she had just learned to look calmer than she felt after being in the media spotlight so long.
“Wait a minute, Marcia; you’re saying that Esme Fairchild was seeing Aaron?” Lacey asked. “Exactly up until when?”
“Exactly up until she disappeared.” Marcia swirled a straw around and around her latte.
“Well, he seemed pretty cozy with Cordelia Westgate when I saw him last. About half an hour ago.”
“Oh, yeah, they’re having a thing, too. Common knowledge. Esme was just, you know.”
“No, I don’t just ‘you know.’ What? She was sleeping with him?”
“Duh! Yes, she was sleeping with him.”
No wonder Cordelia flinches every time her name is mentioned.
“Why? Other than animal attraction.”
“Why? Other than animal attraction.”
“It just happened, I guess. He’s gorgeous, he’s rich and powerful, and she’s a lowly intern on the Hill. It’s a Hill thing. I’ve been there.” Marcia sipped her coffee with a straw to avoid mussing her lipstick. “And she wanted a job.” Lacey reflected that Marcia had embraced her glamorous new look with a vengeance. She wasn’t about to go back to being the chubby congressional staffer whose dumpy driver’s-license photo had been splattered across the covers of a dozen tabloids. “But I really am scared, Lacey. I could be next!”
Why Marcia would be eager to talk to her after all the stories that she’d written on the notorious former Small Business Committee staffer was a mystery in itself. Lacey suspected Marcia was now addicted to that spotlight.
“Here’s the inside scoop, Lacey: Esme was kind of a silent partner in my Web site.”
“You’re kidding. Your pornography empire?”
“As if. It was so not porno. It was never that bad. You ever heard of
Girls Gone Wild?
Well, this was sort of
Wonks Gone Mild.
Only with, like, naked wonks.”
Girls Gone Wild?
Well, this was sort of
Wonks Gone Mild.
Only with, like, naked wonks.”
“What did Esme do? Was she one of your, um, naked wonks?”
“No way. She did the marketing plan. And she helped set up the whole tape and DVD ordering, billing, and shipping deal. Fulfillment, she called it. I love that word. But when the scandal broke, she stopped talking to me for a while. Of course, she started calling me again to dish on Aaron Bentley. She went to New York on the weekends a couple of times to see him, and do you know what else?” Marcia leaned in close to Lacey and lowered her voice. “She said that Cordelia Westgate would soon be history.” Sighing, she leaned back. “Anyway, when I saw that you wrote the story on her, I had to call. If Esme’s dead ... I mean, who knows who’s next? I thought this whole scandal thing of mine was pretty much over, but it’s never really over, is it?”
Lacey put her coffee down. “Marcia, if Esme was killed, it was probably because she was in her own kind of trouble, or she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe she had a secret. You, on the other hand, exposed everything. I think.”
“The Web site wasn’t that bad,” Marcia protested.
“I mean you spilled your guts to the special prosecutor and to me. You’re safe because you don’t have any more secrets. Now, do you know anything else about Esme that might be a secret?”
“Well, she was screwing this senator.”
Lacey narrowly avoided wearing her double latte decaf on her Black Watch plaid vintage suit. Apparently there were no pheromone jammers strong enough to stop Esme Fairchild. “Oh, no! You don’t really mean at the same time?” Lacey wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this.
Of course you do.
Of course you do.
“And that was a real affair, not just a fling. He was going to buy her something very nice—expensive—for their six-month anniversary, I heard. Her choice.”
“You said Aaron Bentley was a real affair. So who is this senator, anyone I should know?”
“I don’t know. Ever hear of Demetrius Van Drizzen?”
“Van Drizzen? He’s a member of the Appropriations Subcommittee.” Oh, yes, Lacey had heard of him. “Wow, she liked them old. I mean, old for her.”
“Yeah, but he’s cute too, in kind of a distinguished senatorial kind of way. He’s not exactly awesome like Aaron Bentley.”
“She was a busy girl.”
“You’re only young once. You can sleep when you’re dead, you know? Oops—wrong thing to say. Sorry.”
“Wait a minute, Marcia. You don’t have proof, do you? Like a videotape or something?”
“No, no, no, I swore off videotaping forever, Lacey. Swear to God. But she told me because we were friends, and she wouldn’t have just made this stuff up, would she?”
“So it’s hearsay. You don’t have proof.”
“Isn’t that your job, Ms.
Eye Street
reporter? Besides, I feel better just telling somebody. I don’t know if those guys have anything to do with Esme disappearing, but you’ll look into it?”
Eye Street
reporter? Besides, I feel better just telling somebody. I don’t know if those guys have anything to do with Esme disappearing, but you’ll look into it?”
One more question, Senator. Were you having an affair with a missing intern half your age?
“I’ll look into it.”
“I’ll look into it.”
After she left Marcia, Lacey realized she was starving, and, decaffeinated or not, she was on a high buzz. She picked up a quick sandwich to bring back to the office.
No going home early for this girl,
she thought.
But where to start? It’s not often that I’m handed the ammunition to torment so many people in one day.
No going home early for this girl,
she thought.
But where to start? It’s not often that I’m handed the ammunition to torment so many people in one day.
She strolled past Mac’s office. Through the glass she could see Esme’s parents being interviewed on CNN. Mac waved her in. Trujillo was leaning against the wall, watching the show.
“Please, whoever you are, bring Esme back home,” her mother pleaded, looking haggard and desperate.
“We just want to know she’s safe,” her father urged, trying to maintain his composure, but his eyes were red and watering. The head shot of Esme filled the screen with the words,
Missing from her D.C. home.
Missing from her D.C. home.
Mac clicked the mute button on his remote control. “This story is hotter than D.C. in August, and just as humid.”
“It’s a weeper,” Tony agreed. He arched an eyebrow at Lacey. “Who is it today, Lois Lane?” He was the only man at
The Eye
who ever noticed her clothes.
The Eye
who ever noticed her clothes.
“Smile when you say that, Clark Kent. And I see you’re taking the armadillos out for a stroll.” He clicked his boots together and smiled. “So what’s the latest?”
“Group of senators on the committee made a press statement, expressed their sympathy for the family, and announced a reward of thirty thousand smackers for information leading to her return. The Bentley family just pledged another twenty grand; makes it an even fifty.”
“Van Drizzen wouldn’t be one of those senators, would he?” When Tony nodded in the affirmative, Lacey grimaced.
How nice; both her lovers contributed. Gives a girl a warm glow.
How nice; both her lovers contributed. Gives a girl a warm glow.
“What’s that look supposed to mean?” Mac demanded. “Spill it, Smithsonian.”
“It’s just hearsay from a slightly unreliable source. No confirmation, no witness, no second source. I really shouldn’t even repeat it....”
Mac’s eyebrows rose. Tony’s arched. She wished she could capture them on film.
“Why don’t you let your editor be the judge of that?” Mac growled.
“Esme was supposedly having an affair with Senator Van Drizzen.”
Tony whistled. “How come I haven’t been hearing that?”
“Girl talk.” Lacey shrugged. “And here’s more hearsay: At the same time she’s been having a fling with Aaron Bentley.”
“Interesting. Does she have a twin sister?” Trujillo again. She ignored him.
“Does anyone else have this?” Mac wanted to know.
“I don’t think so, and my unreliable source can be overly dramatic.”
“In that case, be delicate, Lacey, when you get statements from both those guys.” It was an order. “Work with Tony—he’s the lead—but stay on this thing.”
“I plan to.” Nevertheless, she cringed inside at the icky tabloid feel of the whole thing. Mac’s phone rang, busting up their little tea party. Mac knit his brows and rumbled into the phone while Lacey and Tony exited quietly. “What do you suppose he means by ‘delicate’?” she asked.
“He means don’t get us involved with any special meetings with our publisher and her lawyers and the FBI, but get the story anyway.” Tony socked her in the arm. “Go make those calls. Don’t stab anybody unless I get to watch.”
“That is so not fair. It was only one time.” She jabbed him in the ribs, then eyed him meaningfully. “But you never know when I could snap.”
Tony had walked to her desk instead of back to his own, so he could sniff around Felicity’s desk. Oddly, the food maven was not around. He picked up some of the chopped veggies left there. “Oh, man, what is this? Sliced green peppers! No cinnamon rolls? What’s happened to the Felicity we know and love?” He looked so bereft it made Lacey laugh.
“She’s on a diet.”
“Man, I hate it when women diet. They get so mean and skinny. It’s not natural.”
“Why worry? She’s already mean and she’ll never be skinny.”
“Felicity’s a doll. She’s always bringing little treats in for everybody. I don’t know why you don’t like her.” Tony picked up some papers, hoping to find a more delectable snack.
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