Hallowed Bones (27 page)

Beneath the swaddling of the towel, I recognized Cece's voice. "I brought the Epilady," she said. "If we yank those hairs out by the roots, they won't grow back for the next three weeks."

I sighed. Resistance was useless. I was in the hands of the beauticians from hell. There would be no salvation, only results. I could only hope that
Hamilton
's first glimpse of me would be worth it.

"Now hold still," Cece said. "This is going to hurt a little."

She wasn't lying. I wouldn't have to shave my legs again. Probably ever. I probably wouldn't be able to use them due to nerve damage.

"I found out something interesting today," Cece said.

I pushed the hot towel off my face. "What?"

"That auto-track I ran on Ellisea?"

"Yeah?"

"I checked out a couple of the addresses I picked up." She grinned. "I canceled her order for shoes at Le Menage. I hope those were the ones she was planning on wearing to the ball tonight. They were special order. Supposed to be flown in from
Dallas
today. Too bad, huh?"

"Cece," I said, impressed. She really knew how to hurt a woman.

"But the other discovery was the interesting one. I went to what I thought was another boutique. But it wasn't a boutique at all. It was a tattoo parlor."

"Maybe she had her eyes lined or her lips permanently colored," Tinkie said. "I'd like to do that. Save a lot of time in the morning."

"I don't think so," Cece said.

"What kind was it?"

"Oh, the kind that specializes in things other than tattoos."

"Such as?" I was curious.

"Body piercing. You know, nipple rings, cock studs, that kind of thing."

"Wow," Tinkie and I said in unison.

"I said I was a friend of Ellisea's and mentioned that I'd like to buy her a special.. .adornment." She crossed one leg over the other. "Dahlings, one would think that the mere mention of Ellisea's name could cause flying monkeys to descend from the sky. They hustled me out the door, closed it, locked it, and pulled the shade."

23

When I'd lived in
New York
, I'd seen plenty of imposing ar
chitecture and sophisticated decor. Still, the home of Alexandra and Christoph Bogata was stunning. The Black and Orange Ball was a spectacle designed to please all the senses. Tiger lilies were the only flowers allowed, but they burst from vases and swags and climbed the legs of tables and staircase railings. In a final touch, two dozen magnificent blossoms were sewn into the flowing black taffeta train of the hostess's gown. Her hair, a cascading glory, had been dyed to match the lilies. A gossamer net of black jet sparkles held every hair in place.

"Ms. Delaney," she said as she took my hand. "A pleasure to meet you. I've heard so many interesting things about you."

I couldn't tell if she was being pleasant, catty, or merely gracious. Tinkie and Cece had pulled my hair up into a bun, with spectacular effect. But their initial, overly zealous efforts had resulted in a sort of temporary paralysis to my facial nerves. I shook Alexandra's hand as I smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It's an honor to attend."

"Cece has told me that you'll participate in the charity auction tomorrow. I can't thank you enough. It's our biggest fund-raiser, and I've heard that because of Ellisea Clay's participation, we can expect a good bit of attention from the fashion world." She leaned closer. "
Vogue
is sending a reporter!"

I didn't reply. I wanted to wring Cece's neck. I'd told her I didn't want to participate. She was welcome to the gown, though I have to say it was going to be hard to part with Mollie's creation. My entrance had created a small ripple of excited whispers--until it became clear I was a nobody in a somebody's dress. But Mollie would have been proud. My dress was an attention-getter. Even Tinkie had been suitably impressed. In fact, she'd conceded our bet, saying that I'd won hands down.

"Excuse me, Alexandra. I require the attention of your guest."

Hamilton
's warm baritone was in my ear and his hand on my elbow. I turned to him with a radiant smile.

"I've been waiting a long time for a moment with Ms. Delaney,"
Hamilton
said.

"Of course," Alexandra replied, though her lips didn't move.

She turned to welcome the next guest. I walked on air beside
Hamilton
as we made for a quiet corner of the ballroom, where at least five hundred people chatted, talked, drank, ate, and even danced.

Hamilton
wore a domino, as did everyone. His was plain black silk. It didn't matter. I could have picked him out of a crowd of fifty thousand.

"I've missed you," he said.

"Likewise."

"Sorry about lunch." He frowned. "Bad situation.
Nepal
."

"I'm sorry,
Hamilton
." I could see that he was troubled. "I enjoyed my lunch and took a nap. Then I fell into the hands of the evil stepsisters of fashion."

"Yes, I had clear orders not to call or interfere while you were being prepared."

"Marinated, plucked, pummeled, dressed, and roasted. I'm surprised I can still walk and talk."

He laughed. "You look stunning, Sarah Booth. But then, you always do. No extra preparation was necessary, but I suppose a little pampering is always good for a woman's soul."

If he'd seen the things that had been done to me, he'd never call them pampering. Hair had been ripped from various tender places that were still smarting. Massage, normally a good word, had resulted in my confession to several atrocities I'd never committed.

"You're lucky to have such friends," he said as he waved to Tinkie and Oscar.

Tinkie was beautiful in her black spandex with an overlay of orange net that made her look both ancient and very futuristic. Tinkie could pull off a look.

Cece, her blonde hair coiffed to perfection, wore a slinky black number that was cut so low in the back that no one could help looking for a peek of cheeks. To emphasize the focus, one elegant orange rose was embroidered on her right butt cheek. I had to hand it to her. She had some intriguing butt muscles. She picked up a glass of an orange concoction that a waiter was serving and lifted the glass in our direction.

Hamilton and I waved. That's when I saw Ellisea. She strode across the floor toward Cece, her glare icy and her gaze unwavering.

"You are going to pay big-time," Ellisea said in a voice that halted all conversation in the immediate area. I remembered the last ball I'd seen Cece at. A similar scene had taken place. Was it that Cece loved the limelight or did she just rub arrogant bitches the wrong way?

"Dahling, you look overwrought," Cece said. If she was concerned, she didn't show it. "Try a glass of something. Anything. Before you show your ass completely."

"You canceled my shoes. I know it was you. The saleslady identified a picture of you."

Cece's frown was patently pretend. "Canceled your shoes? Why, dahling, I did you a favor. I knew you were waiting for a house to fall on your sister so you could get your slippers."

Uh-oh. The shit was going to hit the fan. I started forward, but
Hamilton
's light grasp on my arm held me in check. "If it gets bad, I'll stop it. Look at Cece. She set this up."

He was right. Cece had choreographed this moment in revenge for Ellisea's attempt to blacklist her as emcee of the charity auction. I truly hadn't realized how much that emcee post meant to Cece.

"Tell me, Ms. Cece Dee Falcon, how's the climate in
Sweden
?"

It was a remark that took my breath away. In fact, those of us who knew Cece's history actually gasped.

When Cece had first come back to Zinnia, we'd shared a bottle of superb port, and Cece had told me of her decision never to hide her sex-change operation. She'd said that trying to hide such a secret would be like trying to bury a dinosaur. Whenever the wind changed, some part of it would be revealed. She said her family hated her for her openness, but that she would never be owned by a secret. I saw how wise her decision had been.

"Ah,
Sweden
, a land of spectacular views," Cece said, unperturbed. "The midnight sun is something everyone should see."

"How nice can the view be from a hospital window?"

"Depends on the hospital, Ellisea. Of course, there are hospitals and there are clinics. I didn't think Botox required hospitalization. Perhaps your treatment went a little deeper than a few injections. Of course, you didn't leave home, did you? The Cosgrave Clinic?"

"You've been spying on me," Ellisea said.

"Not spying, dahling, digging up dirt. It's what I do for a living. And I'm very, very good."

"The only thing you're good at is pretending to be a woman."

"Dahling, at least my persona attracts men. From the gossip around town, a man would rather donate an organ than spend an hour in your company." Cece's eyebrows arched. "Even the old hippies in the tattoo parlor are terrified of you. What do you do? Tie them up and beat them?"

Ellisea's face changed. It went from anger to a calculated, hardened fury. "What are you talking about?"

"
Two-three-two-three Chalmette Boulevard
," Cece drawled. "Ring a bell?"

I glanced at
Hamilton
. His focus was completely on Cece. If he saw the first sign of distress on her face, he'd stop it. But he was right. Cece had been itching for this confrontation. It was obviously a public forum by design.

The host and hostess, sensing trouble, began sweeping toward the two women. I glanced around, wondering where Senator Clay might be. He was nowhere in sight.

"I'm going to snatch you bald-headed." Ellisea put action into word. She rushed Cece, slapped her hard on her right cheek, and grabbed a handful of hair with such force that Cece's head snapped almost to her shoulder.

Cece had only sipped her drink. With one fluid motion, she hurled the contents into Ellisea's face. "Oops."

Ellisea stumbled backwards. The orange liquid clung for a moment and then slithered down Ellisea's nose and cheeks and onto the bodice of her black gown.

Ellisea's mouth opened and shut, opened and shut.

"Dahling, when you threaten someone, you'd better be able to carry it out on the spot. I don't mean calling in some of your daddy's hoodlums, either."

"Aaarrrrggggghhh!" Ellisea launched herself at Cece. It was almost as if she flew the five feet between them. In a split second she had Cece by the front of her gown. She was wrenching and tearing with harsh, grunting noises.

Cece tossed her empty glass to a passing waiter and then grabbed two handfuls of Ellisea's hair. With a hefty twist of her wrist, she pulled with enough force to make Ellisea howl.

"Christoph, stop it!" Alexandra commanded. "Those two are ruining my ball. If Ellisea is injured, she won't come to the auction. The press coverage will be ruined!"

"On the contrary," Tinkie said, stepping in to block any intervention from either of the hosts. "I think the floor show is fabulous, and once the media hears about this, they'll be at the auction in droves, hoping for a repeat performance."

By this time Cece had swung her leg behind Ellisea and thrown her to the floor. A tuft of dark hair drifted to the floor beside her.

In the most unladylike gesture I'd ever seen Cece perform, she straddled Ellisea and pinned her wrists to the floor. "Apologize," Cece demanded.

To my utter amazement, Ellisea bucked with such strength that Cece was thrown off balance and flung over Ellisea's head. Ellisea rolled, sprang to her feet, and delivered a whopping kick to Cece's ribs.

She drew back her leg for another vicious kick but
Hamilton
stepped forward and caught the ex-model with one arm around her waist and another at her throat.

"It's gone far enough," he said.

"Not until she's dead," Ellisea panted.

Tinkie and I scrambled to help Cece to her feet. It took her a moment to regain her breath, but she turned to Ellisea. Her eyes sparked with fury. "This isn't over," she said.

"Not by a long shot," Ellisea snarled.

The crowd that had gathered around the two women parted as if Charlton Heston had commanded the
Red Sea
to move aside. Senator Thaddeus Clay stepped into the breach. He took one look at his struggling wife in
Hamilton
's arms and let his gaze rove over Cece.

"If you'd escort my wife to the car," he said to
Hamilton
, "I'd be in your debt."

"If he turns me loose, I'll tear your head off," Ellisea said to her husband. "You craven bastard. You could at least stand up for me."