Hot Money (6 page)

“If you’re going to ruin a reasonably pleasant conversation by bringing up my ex, I think I’ll take another walk around the grounds until the police want me.”

To her chagrin no one tried to stop her when she strolled off in the direction of the catering tent. It was too bad, too, because she was just in time to see society caterer Neville Foster launch into a shouting match with one of the hapless servers who’d been in charge of shaving off wafer-thin slices of rare roast beef earlier in the evening.

“What do you mean it is missing?” he screamed, hands on narrow hips. “How could you be so careless, so inept?”

“It was there earlier,” the man insisted stubbornly, refusing to be intimidated by Neville’s outrage. “I recall lighting the candles myself.”

“So you are saying that one of the guests just happened to walk off with an antique silver candlestick tucked in her purse?” the caterer inquired so sarcastically that Molly winced. “What would anyone at this affair need with such a candlestick? No doubt they own pieces three times as valuable.”

Molly glanced at the other end of the buffet table where a heavy, ornate candlestick still held a softly glowing candle. She could think of one distinct reason someone might need such an object. It would make a dandy murder weapon.

The expression on Michael’s face was not particularly welcoming when Molly came tearing back around to the terrace where she’d left him and Liza comparing notes on the murder.

“Where did you run off to this time?” he inquired testily.

“You won’t be quite so cranky when I tell you what I discovered,” Molly retorted.

“Try me.”

“I’ve found the murder weapon. Well, I haven’t found it exactly, but I know what it was.”

He refused to look impressed. “Considering that no one has established that Tessa Lafferty was murdered, that’s quite a feat,” he said.

She decided to ignore his stubborn denial of something everyone else on the grounds accepted as true. The police were certainly treating the death as if it were a homicide, even if the word hadn’t been used yet. That was enough for Molly.

“A silver candlestick is missing from the buffet table,” she said, deciding no embellishment was needed. Michael would get the implication. She noted the reluctant spark of interest in his eyes with satisfaction.

“Are you trying to suggest that Tessa Lafferty went for a stroll with someone toting along a heavy candlestick?” he inquired doubtfully. “Wouldn’t she have noticed?”

It was a reasonable question. Molly had already thought of it. She had an answer. “If the murderer was a woman, it could have been in her purse.”

Michael cast a significant look at the tiny evening bag in her hand, then glanced at Liza. She carried no purse at all.

“Okay, yes, mine’s too small,” Molly conceded. “But we won’t know about the others until we look.”

“You’re wasting your time. There’s not a woman in the place carrying a purse large enough to conceal more than a tube of lipstick and maybe a solid gold compact,” Liza chimed in.

“Have the two of you spent the evening checking out every woman’s purse?” Molly shot back irritably. If she couldn’t find a logical means for the killer to have gotten that candlestick from the buffet table to the murder site she saw her discovery’s importance diminishing.

“No. I have a thing for observing likely places to conceal a murder weapon,” Michael countered. “It’s just one of those things cops do instinctively.”

Molly caught the slip and beamed. “Then you do agree, albeit somewhat belatedly, that it was murder?”

“I agree that’s one possibility,” he conceded with obvious reluctance.

“That’s a start,” Molly said, gleefully determined to pursue what was clearly the best lead they had. “If the candlestick was the murder weapon, then maybe somebody arranged a rendezvous with Tessa, sneaked up behind her, and knocked her out. Anyone could have slipped through the shadows with that candlestick without anyone noticing. I’ll bet it’s at the bottom of the bay even as we speak.”

“I’ll mention the possibility to the investigating officer,” Michael said dutifully. “Then I suggest we get out of here.”

“Now? But what about the investigation?”

“It’s under control without your help.”

“I just meant it seems early to be releasing suspects.”

“You consider yourself a suspect? I’ll admit I found your reluctance to dip your toes in the water a bit suspicious, but I never really considered the possibility that you might know Tessa Lafferty’s body was in there.”

Molly scowled at his good-natured sarcasm. “There are times, Michael O’Hara, when I find you incredibly irritating.”

“I know the feeling. Liza, do you want to ride home with us?”

“Shouldn’t I stay?”

“If the police are through questioning you, I don’t see why. They’ll want a formal statement tomorrow, but tonight I think, for all intents and purposes, the party’s over.”

“I suppose,” Liza said dismally. “Can you imagine what the coverage will be like in tomorrow’s paper once the reporters get wind of this? I’m surprised the place isn’t overrun already.”

“It is,” Michael told them. “The police are keeping them at bay. I’ll see if we can’t slip out to the parking lot via the south access road, rather than going through the front door. We should be able to evade the bulk of them that way.”

While he went off to have one last conversation with Detective Abrams and the other investigating officers, Molly regarded Liza with concern. “I’m sorry I gave you such a rough time earlier, but I’m worried about you. Are you really okay?”

“Okay?” Liza said, a hysterical note in her voice that Molly had never heard before from a woman who climbed mountains and trekked through rain forests without a qualm. “Of course I’m not okay. I might have hated Tessa but I didn’t want to see her murdered and I especially didn’t want her to die in the middle of a party that meant a lot to all these environmental projects she championed. Do you know what it’ll be like to get someone to chair the next event after this?”

“That reminds me,” Molly said, hoping to put things into perspective for Liza. The evening might have turned bleak, but the future held brighter potential. “You obviously made quite an impression on Jason Jeffries. He said he would underwrite the next fund-raiser, if you’ll chair it. He suggested next winter, when Miami is packed with wealthy snowbirds. He doesn’t seem worried that you’ll have any problem surpassing the success of this event.”

“What success?” Liza moaned. “Our profits are probably nil. The guests are all being detained as murder suspects. My best friend thinks I could be a killer. And the caterer will probably sue because his antique silver candlestick is missing. Neville charges for every damned napkin. God knows what price tag he’ll put on that candlestick.”

“Liza, I do not think you’re a killer,” Molly said indignantly, though she had to admit she could see where Liza might have gotten that idea.

“You may not
want
to think that, but you’ve definitely considered the possibility. You’ve gone into that same mother-hen mode you adopt when your son has done something wrong, but you’re determined to present the best possible side of things to anyone who might attack him for it.”

“I know you did not kill Tessa Lafferty,” Molly said with more conviction. “But I do think that you’re high on the list of suspects, especially if you refuse to explain where you disappeared to in the middle of the party. Let me help.”

“I’m not worried for myself, dammit. I’m worried about what will happen to the environmental coalition I worked so damned hard to form. Now everyone will want to go back to their own narrow interests and that’s no way to impact legislation.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. Not really,” Molly insisted. Michael’s earlier assessment had come to the same conclusion. At the time she had vehemently disagreed, but now she could see how all the attention could be turned into a public relations coup if it were managed properly. “This party will be the talk of the town tomorrow,” she promised.

Liza regarded her with a wry expression. “You’re certainly right about that, but it won’t be the sort of talk likely to advance our cause. If the killer’s goal was to divide us all, he couldn’t have picked a better way to do it. No one will want to be affiliated with a coalition when its board members are being killed off.”

“Not necessarily. Why don’t we find Caroline Viera and get some advice on how to handle this with the press? We’ll need a plan if we run into any stray reporters on the way out.”

They found a stoic, somber Caroline Viera at her husband’s side. Normally charming and outgoing, Hernando looked wan and troubled, either because he feared his affair with Tessa was about to become public knowledge or because he’d been the one who’d clobbered her. Molly gazed into his bleak eyes and reassessed the possibilities. Perhaps it wasn’t remorse or guilt that had turned his olive complexion pasty, but sorrow. It was entirely possible that he had truly cared for Tessa more deeply than his usual quick conquests.

Since it was hardly fitting to console the bereaved married lover of the also married dead woman, especially with his wife present, Molly was at a loss. She gratefully turned her full attention to Caroline. “Could we speak to you a minute? We need your advice on something.”

“Now?” Caroline asked, casting a worried look at her husband.

“Yes,” Liza said, linking her arm through the woman’s and drawing her away. “You’re the public relations expert. How should we handle the media? Can we salvage anything from tonight’s disaster?”

There was a spark of interest in Caroline’s eyes as she considered the challenge. “Here’s what I’d do,” she said after several thoughtful moments. “I’d tell the media that Tessa’s death has put the fate of all of these environmental causes in jeopardy. As tragic as her death is, we cannot allow it to signal the end to her commitment.”

Molly could practically hear the closing quotation marks at the end of the statement. Caroline paused.

“One other thing,” she said finally. “Try to get to Roger. See if you can convince him that in lieu of flowers a memorial fund be established for these causes in Tessa’s honor. I suspect donations will pour in, out of guilt if not out of respect.”

Liza looked a bit more hopeful. “Caroline, you’re a genius.”

“I’ll bill you accordingly,” she said with a faint smile that warmed her cool, classic elegance. “Liza, you’re the one who ought to take over the reins of this now. I know you prefer to work behind the scenes, but you’re good with people and you genuinely care. You wouldn’t be in it for the glory.”

“I’ve been trying to convince her of the same thing. She has Jason Jeffries’s backing, too,” Molly said.

“Good for you. He might be an old curmudgeon, but he’s well connected. If you have his blessing, you can set this town on its ear. I’ll do anything I can to help,” Caroline said with obvious sincerity. “I don’t say that lightly either. When I commit to a project, I follow through.”

Liza’s worried expression had slowly begun to brighten. “Thank you. I’ll think about it. And thanks for the advice about the media,” she said just as Michael joined them.

He pulled Molly aside. “We can get out of here. Are you two ready?”

She glanced at Liza, who was looking more exhausted and frazzled than she ever had in all the time Molly had known her. Crusades usually charged her batteries. Until the last few minutes the prospect of this one had seemed merely to drain her. Right now she was beginning to look wilted and forlorn again.

“Liza, are you ready to go?” Molly asked gently.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.

“Just remember Caroline’s advice and we’ll have it made.”

The three of them slipped through the doors onto the south lawn, then set out along the access road that was currently occupied by the caterer’s truck and several police cars. The narrow road wound through the dense cover of banyan trees and other tropical foliage before emerging in the parking lot.

Molly was just about to celebrate their clean escape when she spotted Ted Ryan, the earnest, wily reporter from the morning paper, perched atop the hood of her convertible. Despite the formal nature of tonight’s party, he was dressed as usual in faded jeans, a rumpled short-sleeved shirt, and boat shoes. No socks. Either it was his usual attire or Molly had only run into him when he’d been dragged out of bed late at night to cover a breaking story.

“I knew you’d be along sooner or later,” he said cheerfully. “Hi, Molly. Hey, O’Hara. What’s happening inside? My butt was getting damp from sitting alongside that fountain at the end of the walkway. They wouldn’t even bring us any hors d’oeuvres out there, much less any information. I’ve got an hour until deadline. I’m a desperate man.”

“So what else is new?” Molly said dryly.

“If you want a statement, you’ll have to talk to the police, Ryan,” Michael said.

“No, wait,” Liza interrupted. “I’ll make a statement on behalf of the committee.” She proceeded to deliver Caroline’s suggested comments verbatim, earning Molly’s admiration and a startled look from Michael.

Ted Ryan didn’t look nearly as impressed. “So what?” he said bluntly. “I need suspects. I need details. What did the body look like when it was discovered? My photographer’s out there in a boat right now, trying to get close enough to the scene of the crime to get pictures. They’ve already carted the Lafferty broad away by now, haven’t they?”

His evident disappointment grated on Molly’s nerves. “Your interest in the gory details shouldn’t surprise me,” Molly said. “That is what you get off on, isn’t it?”

“Hey, come on,” he said, clearly hurt by her assessment. “I’m just trying to do a job here. You’re the best sources I’ve got.”

“In that case, you are in serious trouble, my friend,” Michael informed him. “We’re not feeling very talkative.”

“Molly?” Ted pleaded.

“Sorry. I can’t tell you any more than I have already,” she said, grateful that he wasn’t aware that she had actually discovered the body. If he knew that, he’d never let her alone and she was in no mood to recall the sensation of brushing up against Tessa’s submerged form.