Murder Unmentionable (10 page)

“Neither.” Angel wrapped a strand of the blonde’s hair around the curling iron and clamped it shut. “Least not yet. She’s still in labor last we heard. Going on eighteen hours by my count.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” the woman said, and went back to her reading.

Emma pawed through the basket of magazines by the front counter. She pushed aside the gardening tomes and fashion titles until she found a slightly worn copy of
Star
magazine. The cover promised lots of juicy gossip, and she settled happily into one of the empty seats.

Two tanned, expensively highlighted blondes sat next to Emma. They were both impeccably dressed in white linen slacks, silk blouses, strands of sizeable pearls and armfuls of gold bangles. One peered over the top of her reading glasses at someone passing the front window of Angel Cuts.
Her nose rose a fraction of an inch in the air, and she elbowed her companion gently.

Emma glanced out the window to see a woman striding past in a red Polo shirt, well-fitting jodhpurs and dark brown riding boots. She carried a helmet in one hand and a riding crop in the other. Her posture indicated she was someone to be reckoned with.

“Looks like Deirdre’s been riding again,” the one woman said to the other with a snicker.

“Yes, but the question is, what’s she been riding.” The other woman shot back, and they both laughed.

The first woman noticed Emma looking at them and leaned closer to her, gesturing toward the window with a shrug of her shoulder. “Deirdre Porter. She’s the mayor’s new daughter-in-law. Rumor has it that her new riding instructor is a bit,” she cleared her throat purposefully, “more than just a riding instructor.”

“Oh.” Emma squirmed uncomfortably. It was one thing to read the stories in magazines like
People
and
Star
, which were about celebrities you didn’t actually know. It was quite another thing to be confronted with such a juicy tidbit at the hairdresser’s. She had to remind herself that if she was going to solve Guy’s murder, she would have to give in and listen to the wagging tongues.

“I think Luanne’s ready for you,” Angel called above the roar of the blow-dryers and the din of chattering female voices. She gestured toward a woman with jet-black hair in a pink smock decorated with Barbie dolls.

As Emma walked past Angel’s station, Angel tapped her on the shoulder. “Check these out.” She pointed to a vase overflowing with two dozen red roses.

“They’re gorgeous.” Emma touched one of the silky petals and inhaled the rich perfume.

“Tom.” Angel said succinctly. She winked at Emma. “Kind of makes the whole fight worth it, don’t you think?”

“A fight?” Emma lingered by Angel’s chair despite the encouraging gestures of Luanne.

“He is just so jealous! Honestly.” Angel sounded more proud than irritated. “Can you believe he got his boxers all in a knot over me taking Guy sightseeing that day?”

“Really?”

Angel nodded vigorously, and the knot of flame-red hair on top of her head bobbed precariously. She moved her face closer to Emma’s until Emma could smell the fruity scent of her gum. “Just between you and me, I was kind of nervous. You know that night Guy was killed? Tom didn’t come home till late, and he refused to tell me where he’d been. Mama always said not to jump to conclusions, but I was worried. Turns out he’d been playing poker with the guys again. After promising me he wouldn’t.” She grabbed a chunk of the blonde’s hair and pulled so vigorously the girl winced. “Sorry about that.” Angel tapped her on the shoulder then turned back to Emma. “I think they’re taking advantage of him. Last time he dropped a C-note, and he can’t hardly afford to lose that kind of money.”

By now Luanne’s welcoming gestures had taken on a desperate edge. Emma reluctantly moved away from Angel’s station toward the manicure carts in the back.

By the time Luanne was done, Emma had perfectly painted pink toes and fingernails.

But she was leaving Angel Cuts with oh so much more.

CLOUDS rolled in on Saturday morning, and the skies were dark when Emma looked out her apartment window onto Washington Street. She hoped the weather wouldn’t delay Kate’s flight. She was really looking forward to seeing a familiar face.

Excited yelps greeted Emma as she pushed open the front door to Sweet Nothings. Pierre danced around her legs, tail wagging furiously. Emma dodged his leaps as she made her way into the shop. Brian was nailing up the last stretch of molding around the new cabinets. He’d happily agreed to work on Saturdays so that Sweet Nothings wouldn’t have to be closed any longer than necessary.

“Coffee?” He proffered his thermos. “Homemade with freshly ground beans.”

“Thanks.” Emma shook her head. “I’m having my usual.” She held up a travel mug. “Green tea.”

Brian made a comical face. “Okay, suit yourself.”

Pierre continued to circle Emma, giving little yips of excitement.

“Pierre!” Arabella pointed to his dog bed. He obediently trotted over, but instead of lying down, he sat upright, ears straight and alert, head scanning the room for anything interesting.

“Guess what—” Arabella and Emma said at the same time.

Emma laughed. “You go first.”

Arabella’s cheeks flushed with excitement. “Wait till you see what I’ve got!” She pulled a tissue-wrapped bundle from under the counter. “Sally Dixon went to a sale at the old Kilpatrick Estate out near Green Acres Lake. Mrs. Kilpatrick finally departed this life at the age of 105. She outlived some of her own children and grandchildren.” Arabella shook her head, and her white bun quivered. “I don’t think I would like that.”

“What is it?” Emma moved over to the counter and leaned her elbows on it.

Arabella fumbled with the bit of tape that held the edges of the tissue together. “You won’t believe this. As soon as Sally spotted it, she called me, bless her heart.” She wrestled the package open with shaking hands and pulled out a pink chiffon gown. “Heavenly by Fischer lingerie,” Arabella exclaimed. “Mint condition. Never, ever worn. Look,” she pointed to a small department store tag affixed to the bodice. “Here’s the label,” she pointed to a blue and white tag stitched to the seam. “See? There’s the mermaid. That’s their trademark.” She put her hands on her hips. “This is museum quality Fischer.”

Emma peered at the tag.

“Heavenly by Fischer is one of the most coveted vintage lingerie labels. A gown like this sells for over four hundred dollars!”

“Now we really need to get that web site up and running.”
Emma turned toward Brian. “Do you think Liz would be willing to help?” Liz had given up a very lucrative web design business to stay home with the children.

“I’m sure she’d be delighted.” Brian grinned. “I’ve gotten the impression lately that she would love to have something a little more challenging to sink her teeth into.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Arabella said, beaming at the two of them, “why don’t you tell us your news.” She turned toward Emma.

Emma’s mind had raced ahead to web site designs and colors and fonts and it took her a moment to remember what she’d been about to tell everyone.

“I had a very interesting visit at Angel Cuts yesterday.” Emma wiggled her fingers in the air.

“I can see that. Love that color on you.” Arabella glanced approvingly at Emma’s manicure.

“But I picked up a lot more than just a new nail polish shade.”

Arabella settled onto the stool behind the counter, and even Brian paused in his hammering.

“Do tell.” Arabella prompted.

“Well…” Emma paused for dramatic effect. “Angel admitted that she and Tom had a big fight the night Guy was murdered.” The word “murdered” stuck in her throat slightly. “And she also admitted that the fight was about Guy. Tom was jealous that Angel had been showing him around Paris.”

“Lovers quarrel all the time, how do we—” Arabella began.

Emma held up a hand. “This was a fight. A big one. Two-dozen-long-stemmed-roses big.”

Brian whistled. “Bet those set Tom back a few bucks.”

“That’s what I mean.” Emma said. “I don’t think he’d have gone to that expense if they’d just had a slight tiff. Besides, Sylvia said she heard them arguing straight through the wall.”

“Which reminds me,” Arabella said. “Sylvia offered your friend Kate a room at her place if she’s interested. Said she wouldn’t dream of charging her. She’d be glad of the company.”

“Thanks. I’ll let Kate know and see what she wants to do.” Emma had a sudden idea. “Maybe she could listen in for any more fights between Angel and Tom.”

“What makes you think Tom had anything to do with Guy’s murder? Other than that he was jealous.” Brian wiped his hands on a rag and took a sip of his coffee.

“According to Angel, he went out that night and refused to tell her where. Later he claimed he’d been at a poker game with some friends even though he’d promised her he was going to quit. If we could just find out whether or not he actually went…”

Brian furrowed his brow. “I know a couple of guys who usually play in that game.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Bobby Fuller for one. He works in our stockroom. I can run over later and ask him.”

“That’s wonderful, but you’d better be somewhat discreet about it.” Arabella began smoothing out the pink chiffon negligee. She folded it carefully and placed it back in the tissue paper. “If Tom does turn out to be the murderer, we can’t have you putting yourself in danger.”

Emma felt her heart give a peculiar jolt at the thought of Brian in danger.

“Hey, give me some credit.” Brian grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way to work it into the conversation naturally.”

“It looks like you got your money’s worth at Angel Cuts.” Arabella finished wrapping the negligee and placed it in a drawer.

Emma looked at Brian’s nearly completed cabinets. “I wish the armoires would come. I’m going to line them with black-and-white toile wallpaper. Then we can prop the doors
open and add a hook for displaying our best merchandise.” She pointed toward the drawer next to Arabella. “Like the Fischer negligee.”

Arabella clapped her hands. “It’ll match Pierre’s dog bed! How perfect. But what about the carpet?” Arabella pointed at the pea-green shag carpeting that had been part of her 1970s renovation.

“I really do think it needs replacing.”

“I was very fond of this carpet.” Arabella ran her foot through the plush shag. “It was all the rage when I had it installed. But you’re right. Its time is past.” Her face darkened. “Besides, I doubt we’d ever get that stain out.” Arabella’s glance strayed toward the spot where Guy had lain. “What do you suggest?”

Emma frowned. “Something very simple and elegant…but practical. I’m going to go down to the rug store and look at some samples.”

“As soon as I’ve finished the painting, we can rip out the old stuff,” Brian said.

“Sounds like unskilled labor.” Emma smiled. “That’s just the kind I can help with.”

“It’s a date, then.” There was an awkward silence. “I mean…” Brian blushed.

“I just remembered something,” Emma blurted out to fill the void. She carefully avoided looking at Brian. “When I was at Angel Cuts, two women were talking about this girl in riding clothes who walked past the window.” She turned toward Arabella. “You mentioned her the other day. Deirdre Porter?”

“Looks like she really is becoming the talk of the town.” Arabella sniffed. “Shame. The Porters are a nice family even if Peyton isn’t the sharpest blade in the drawer. It’s a lot of sour grapes, I suspect. Deirdre set people’s teeth on edge the minute she arrived in town. It’s not completely her fault. Everyone assumed Peyton and Marcie would be
married as soon as they finished college. And then he turns up with someone new, and she’s not even a local gal. People around here hoped the Porter money would stay with someone in Paris.”

“I thought she was attractive, though.” Emma frowned. “Perhaps she’d be willing to model in our opening fashion show? She sounds like she’s not afraid of a little scandal so parading around in a negligee should be right up her alley.”

“Brilliant!” Arabella declared. “Hopefully she’ll bring some of her moneyed friends.”

Brian cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. “I could do with a break. Perfect time for me to do some detecting.” He put down his drill and grinned. “I should be able to catch Bobby Fuller on his coffee break. Hopefully he’ll know whether or not Tom Mulligan was at that card game the night Guy was killed.”

Emma wanted to add her warning to Arabella’s earlier one, but she settled for giving Brian a worried look. Hopefully he would be able to read her message loud and clear.

“LOOK at this,” Emma called to Arabella and pointed at her computer screen.

Arabella put down the gown she was mending and went over to where Emma perched on a stool, her laptop open on the counter.

“Aren’t they gorgeous? They’ll go perfectly with the vintage pieces we already have.”

Arabella peered over Emma’s shoulder at the screen. “They’re absolutely delicious.”

“It’s Monique Berthole’s new line.” Emma scrolled down the page. “The collection isn’t nearly as expensive as it looks, but I’ve heard the quality is excellent.” She clicked the N
EXT
button, and a whole new page of exquisite lace and satin creations filled the screen. “I’m going to order—”