4 Arch Enemy of Murder (21 page)

Lucinda’s expression cleared into a smile. “That sounds nice. What would you girls like for dessert?”

“Anything you make is great,” Lacy said and meant it.

“Something fat free,” Riley requested.

“I suppose I could whip up an angel food cake,” Lucinda said.

“Don’t listen to her, Grandma. She’s delirious from lack of sleep. No one eats angel food cake as a celebration,” Lacy said.

“Why does a celebration have to be synonymous with a three thousand calorie overload?” Riley snapped. “We can celebrate with fruit once in a while.”

“It’s like your lips are moving, but I don’t understand the words you’re saying,” Lacy said.

Riley growled, shoved away from the table, and stomped from the room.

“I could make both angel and devil’s food cake,” Lucinda said. “That would be sort of fun, don’t you think?”

“Don’t go to so much trouble,” Lacy said. “The angel food cake will be fine. Don’t tell Riley, but she’s probably right; it wouldn’t hurt me to eat a piece of fruit and something light once in a while.”

“It’s no trouble,” Lucinda protested. “I want you both to be happy.”

“We’re happy, Grandma,” Lacy told her. “It’s going to be a good day, and all is right with the world. Don’t knock yourself out cooking today; I want you to have energy for the party.” She stood, gave her grandma a sideways hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“How could I not be happy with both my girls here?” Lucinda said. She reached up to pat Lacy’s cheek. Lacy wondered at what age she would stop being referred to as a “girl.” Never, she hoped, at least when it came to her grandmother.

“Hear, hear,” Mr. Middleton chimed in. He lumbered slowly to his feet. It was only when he moved that Lacy was reminded of his age. Other times he seemed as timeless as Jason had accused him of being. And he had the energy of a man half his age, if his hard work of late was any indication. He had been putting in as many hours as Lacy, and sometimes more. She wanted to do something for him, but what?

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. Together they walked from the house to his car. “I’m getting spoiled by my chauffer,” Lacy said.

“Maybe now that the building is finished you’ll have time to buy a car,” he suggested.

“I suppose,” Lacy said. She still felt no pressing need to own a vehicle. What did it say about her that she was happy not to own anything at all? Propriety demanded that she buy a house and a car to start establishing herself as a real grownup. And yet she was happy to walk everywhere and live in a tiny room in her grandmother’s house. Worse still, she owned two livable spaces and had no idea what to do with either of them. Was something wrong with her? Perhaps, but she put the question away for another day. The upcoming one was too busy for speculation or anything but hard work.

Joe was waiting on the steps like usual, but unlike usual they didn’t go up to her office. Instead they were greeted at the door by contractors with questions and problems, and tenants who were trying frantically to move in and arrange their merchandise. Mr. Middleton was dispatched to help the contractors while Lacy and even Joe began helping the tenants move in.

She worked through lunch again, doing manual labor she hadn’t anticipated. She had expected to be busy answering phones and questions, but it turned out that her part of the day was hands-on. She was glad she had worn jeans and sensible shoes. She had no idea what time it was and probably would have kept working until the party, but Riley sought her out.

“Come on, Lacy, you have to get ready.”

Lacy checked her watch. It was five and the party started at six. “I’m going to run home and change in a few minutes.” She resumed trying to hang a picture on the wall of the ice cream parlor, but Riley was undeterred.

“You’re not going home; you’re going upstairs. C’mon.” She latched onto Lacy’s arm and physically dragged her away. Lacy tossed the hammer to Joe who stared helplessly, not sure if he should intervene or not.

“Make sure and be there tonight, Joe,” she called. “And bring your sister.” She hoped he heard, but she couldn’t be sure because Riley was dragging her at a fast clip, and there was a lot of noise and confusion in the building. “Where are you taking me?”

“To hair and makeup,” Riley said.

“I can do my own hair and makeup.”

“I’ve seen what you can do. My guy is better.”

“Guy? You have a guy?”

“Rule number one: Always hire hair and makeup for parties.”

“What’s rule number two?” Lacy asked.

“Always charge it to the person who is throwing the party.” She dragged Lacy into the bathroom and flung her into a chair in front of the mirror. A man began working on her with all the seriousness and intensity of Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel. He spray painted her face with what she hoped was makeup and spent a long time sculpting her hair on top of her head. She hadn’t worn her hair in such an intricate arrangement since prom.

After hair and makeup, she was squeezed into a corset—one that Riley took a little too much pleasure in lacing—and then an emerald velvet dress. The dress, though not quite of modern design, wasn’t what Lacy would describe as Elizabethan. And when she saw Riley’s very normal brown dress, she was confused.

“I thought this was a costume party,” Lacy said.

“I know you did. That’s why it was funny. If you read the paper carefully instead of flying into a tizzy, then you would have noticed that I also said one of the princes would be making a surprise appearance and you would be headlining karaoke.”

“What?” Lacy said.

“It was a fake flier. I hung it in the door of the Stakely building to mess with you. As if I would throw a costume party with a champagne fountain. What are we, flappers? This isn’t a Fitzgerald novel.”

“If it’s not a costume party, then what kind of party is it?” Lacy asked.

“The best one this town has ever seen, if I do say so myself. I called in a lot of favors for this event.”

“Favors from whom?”

“First of all, it’s obnoxious when you say ‘whom.’ No one talks like that in real life. Second, I called in whatever I needed, and people came through.”

“You didn’t have anyone killed, did you?”

“Not yet, but the night is young,” Riley said. She opened the door with a flourish and shoved Lacy through. Music was playing, but it was as if time froze. All eyes were on her, and she panicked. And then she saw the familiar faces of her grandparents and Tosh and took a breath. All would be well. Just because it seemed like everyone in the world was there didn’t mean they actually were.

Her grandparents hugged her and passed her off to Tosh who did the same. “So proud of you,” he whispered. The feeling that it was prom all over again intensified as Lacy was passed around the room, only this time she felt like the queen of the ball. She tried to deflect attention to her grandfather, to her tenants, even to Riley, but the focus was on her.

The crowd passed her along and she surfed through the room until she landed in front of an angry-looking Jason. “You,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at her midsection.
 

Lacy yelped and ran away, disappearing through the thick, streaming crowd. The next time she saw him was almost an hour later. He was talking to Cindy. He caught sight of Lacy and held up a finger to cut short the conversation. Lacy looked around for salvation, wondering why the crowd dispersed when she needed them most. Finally in desperation, she ducked out of sight behind the makeshift bar. The bartender did a double take. She made a pleading motion with her hands, and he turned away, shaking his head.

“May I help you, sir?” he asked a moment later.

“I’ll have a club soda,” she heard Jason say and hugged the edge of the bar more closely. The bartender poured the drink and slid it across the bar. “Thank you. I’ll also take her off your hands.”

The bartender feigned ignorance. “Excuse me?”

“The red-headed bar rat crouching at your feet. She’s with me.”

Lacy stood and smoothed her skirt. “How can you drink club soda? It’s disgusting.”

“Says the woman who spent the last ten minutes wallowing on the floor beside a trash can,” Jason said. He took a sip of the soda, set it down and held out his hand. “Come with me; we need to talk.”

“I can’t. I’m busy being a hostess.”

He scanned their deserted section of the room. “I think your invisible friends can live without you for a few minutes.”

“I need to check and make sure Joe and his sister got in. I left word with Riley’s bouncer to let them pass, but he didn’t seem like the type to follow orders.”

“Neither are you which is why you have five seconds to take my hand and start walking before I pick you up, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you through this entire room of gawking strangers.”

Lacy stared at his hand, trying to decide if he was serious or not. At last she decided he was, and placed her hand in his. He didn’t wait for her to start walking. Instead he turned and tugged her behind him at a trot. She was nervous about the coming conversation. Her jealousy had gotten the better of her the previous night, and she knew it. She shouldn’t have slammed the door in his face or sent him away so abruptly. She had behaved badly; she would have to make amends.

“Look, I know that things didn’t exactly end well last night,” she babbled. “I maybe handled things wrong. But if I told you how little sleep or food I’ve had this week, you might understand. I mean, I’ve been under duress. Things haven’t been normal. There’s Riley and the renovations, the tenants, this thing with Pearl…” She trailed off as he led her into the stairwell and closed the door. Her panic increased. Why had she brought up Pearl? What if he knew she had been investigating with Tosh? She should have told him. He was going to kill her. He certainly had a murderous look in his eyes.

“Did Riley dress you?”

She blinked at him, confused. “What?”

“Did Riley dress you?”

“Yes,” she drawled. “Why?”

“I’m trying to figure out who I need to thank for this. Geez, you look amazing. And you’ve been running from me for the last hour. It’s like you’ve been genetically preprogrammed to drive me insane. You left me at a
simmer
last night, and then you show up looking like this and run away from me. I swear, Lacy.” He backed her up until she was sandwiched between him and the wall.

“You swear what?” she asked. Her voice had become the dopey, breathless whisper she hated.

“I don’t know, I just swear.” He leaned in to kiss her. Lacy tipped her face up, but he bypassed her lips and went for her neck because the wretch knew her weaknesses. Lacy melted and would have become a puddle on the floor, but Jason caught her and wrapped one arm around her waist, cinching her closer.

“I think I swear, too,” she whispered. He smiled, his lips curving against the arch of her neck.

The door opened and Lacy’s grandmother stepped through. “Oh, dear.” She quickly shut the door and leaned against it. “Your grandfather is looking for you and heading this way.”

Jason backed away like Lacy had suddenly turned into kryptonite. Lucinda let go of the door and straightened his collar and tie. “That’s not much better. Try not to look so happy, dear. Tom has a sense about these things.” Jason assumed a more dismal expression and smoothed a hand over his hair just as Mr. Middleton opened the door and stepped through. He scanned the small gathering, his eyes landing appraisingly on Jason.

“Lacy disappeared and has been gone for quite some time,” he said. All eyes turned to Lacy. She opened her mouth to try and reply, but her brain was still mush, her legs still jelly. She had to say
something
to save Jason, so she forced words past her dry throat.

“Applesauce muffins,” she blurted.

The babbling idiocy worked to distract her grandfather. “What?” he said.

“Applesauce muffins,” she repeated. “Riley likes those, and they don’t have much fat.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Lucinda jumped in. “I forgot about those. I’ll make them for Riley sometime.”

“Okay,” Mr. Middleton drawled. “I’m glad we cleared that up. We should probably get back to the party now because people are beginning to wonder where the guest of honor went.” He gave Jason one more narrow-eyed, suspicion-packed look before turning away.