No Turning Back (28 page)

"Can I get dressed first?" I asked and she just laughed. I noticed she was still in her nightgown as well though she'd thrown on a matching robe over it.

"Simone won't mind," she said, beckoning to me. The name rang a bell but I couldn't quite place it. I walked forward, plastering a smile on my face as I turned to the woman sitting with Gracie.

She was older, perhaps in her forties, but beautifully made up. I knew immediately that she had money. Her makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly coiffed in a stylish French twist, and she wore smart black trousers with a pin-striped blouse. Heavy silver earrings hung from her ears while a matching necklace adorned her throat. Smiling, she held her hand out to me.

"Good morning, Kathleen," she said, and I realized she had an accent. French, maybe. "I've heard a lot about you." I turned questioningly to Gracie who just smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Simone," I said politely, grasping her hand.

"Sit down, Kathleen," Gracie said as she jumped up. "I'll get you some coffee." I thanked her and pulled out a chair, noticing as I did so that Simone was looking me over with a critical eye. Nervously I sat, clasping my hands in my lap. Gracie sat a cup of coffee in front of me and I took a small sip as she sat back down.

"I work for Simone," Gracie explained, and then it clicked. The escort service. Simone was the madam. I eyed her curiously. She didn't fit my mental image of what a madam would look like. Something more along the lines of Dolly Parton in
The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
came to mind.

"Gracie mentioned that you might be interested in coming to work for me," Simone said. "Are you?" I bit my lip in indecision. I'd had no time to prepare for this and part of me wanted to give Gracie a good wallop for springing Simone on me.

On the other hand, this might be my only chance to get a lead on who had killed Sheila. I wasn't naïve enough to think that I wouldn't be expected to have sex with someone, no matter what Gracie had said. I knew I couldn't do that. I couldn't imagine doing what Blane and I had done last night with just some random guy. If I went, maybe I could get a line on Sheila's killer and somehow I would just have to find a way to avoid the sex part of the job.

I nodded my assent. "Yes, I would."

Simone laughed quietly. "That's wonderful, my dear," she said. "We provide sophisticated, discreet, and beautiful companions to very wealthy, very powerful men. I'm delighted to add you to our ranks."

"I don't know about the sophisticated and beautiful part," I said ruefully.

"My dear, you will do quite nicely," she said, exchanging a knowing smile with Gracie. "Gracie will take you today to get you outfitted for my party this evening. You will come, won't you? And I promise you will be a lovely addition to our little family."

I swallowed and forced a smile, unsure what I was getting myself into. Getting up to leave, Simone kissed both of my cheeks, European style, and did the same to Gracie who returned the gesture. After she'd left, Gracie came back and sat at the table again, beaming at me.

"I'm so excited!" she said enthusiastically. "You are going to love it! I promise. And today, we get to fix you up!" She rubbed her hands together gleefully.

"What do you mean by fix me up?" I asked, my trepidation growing.

"Fun stuff," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We'll get your hair styled and your makeup done. And I know just the place to go for your gown. You're going to look amazing!"

Gracie was like a persistent mother hen. She made me eat some breakfast though I could barely choke it down, my stomach still in knots whenever I thought of Blane, which happened more frequently than I wished. I'd warned myself against getting involved with him because I knew what would happen, and I'd been right. The feelings I had for him had only strengthened and solidified after we'd made love, making his betrayal even more difficult to swallow.

I showered and changed into some clothes she gave me - a pair of Capri pants that fit me nearly like regular pants and a button-down shirt. Gracie said it had to be buttoned because we wouldn't want to pull anything over my hair once it had been fixed.

She drove us to a tiny boutique called Helen of Troy, greeting the woman inside with a warm hug and the kiss-kiss gesture Simone had done.

"Helena, it's so good to see you!" Gracie said. "This is Kathleen. She's going to Simone's party tonight and needs a dress."

Helena was a tiny woman with long red hair that had been haphazardly braided and hung down her back. If I had to guess, she must have been in her fifties and going by the way she was dressed, I was dubious as to whether or not she was a good judge of clothing.

Looking me over with an appraising eye, she pushed me towards a changing room.

"Strip!" She commanded, and I was surprised at her forcefulness as she shoved me into a room and yanked the curtain shut behind me. Gracie poked her head in.

"I know she's odd," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "but she knows what she's doing. Promise." With a last grin at me, she disappeared. I shrugged off my clothes and stood there in my borrowed underwear until Helena reappeared, carefully carrying a dress.

"Take your bra off and try this on," she said and helped me into the dress. When it was zipped, a wide smile broke out on her face. "Ah, perfect." She spun me around to face the mirror and my jaw dropped.

The dress was a deep iridescent aqua, the fabric seeming to flow and change color as the light hit it when I moved, almost like water. It was a strapless corset gown with a sweetheart neckline. Fitted to mid-thigh, it then flared out into a small train behind me, the front skirt cutaway to reveal white lace. An empire waist was adorned with crystals, beads and sequins. The color of the dress brought out the blue in my eyes and was a perfect contrast to my strawberry blond hair. The neckline made my cleavage look voluptuous, the tightly fitted waist and skirt turning my figure into the perfect hourglass.

"Wow," breathed Gracie, and I noticed she'd poked her head in again, "that looks amazing on you!"

I couldn't stop looking in the mirror. I could hardly believe it was me staring back.

"What will she be?" asked Gracie, speaking to Helena and I glanced around, frowning.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh, it's something Simone does," Gracie explained. "It's kind of like a costume ball. Everyone wears masks, doesn't use their real names, that sort of thing."

"She will be a mermaid, of course," answered Helena, as if it were obvious.

A little while later, she'd outfitted me with shoes, matching clutch purse, and a beautiful mask, the real elaborate kind I've seen for Mardi Gras. It completely covered my face except for my mouth and chin. I couldn't help getting a little excited about tonight, if only because of the clothes I'd be wearing.

Next we went to a salon and I gulped when we entered. It was one of those really nice ones that offered you something to drink while you waited. As we sat waiting our turn, I leaned over to her.

"I can't afford this, Gracie," I whispered urgently in her ear. She just waved me away.

"Simone has an account here," she said as she flipped through a magazine. "All of us come here. Don't worry about it."

They called my name and I was primped, poked, waxed and made up to within an inch of my life. I wanted to draw the line at the bikini wax but Gracie insisted. I did, however, put my foot down when they wanted to cut my hair. And no, I wasn't putting up a fit because I knew Blane liked my long hair. At least, that's what I told myself.

"It's not a problem," the stylist George, who was as gay as the day is long, said. "We will arrange it in beautiful waves and curls so it hangs down your back and tantalizes. Just so." He did something with his hands to approximate the style and it did look nice.

When I was done, I'd had a manicure and pedicure as well. My makeup was done in a natural way but somehow managed to emphasize the blue of my eyes while still making them look smoky and mysterious. My hair was pulled back with two elegant combs and then cascaded in waves down my back. I had to admit, George had done a nice job.

"You look fantastic!" Gracie exclaimed in delight as we left.

"So what will you go as tonight?" I asked.

"I'm going as a tigress," she said, winking at me, and I laughed. I could easily imagine Gracie as a tiger.

When she stepped out of her bedroom later, dressed in a gold gown with a slit in the side up to her thigh, it was enough to take my breath away in awe. Her black hair hung absolutely straight and the gold made a beautiful contrast to her cocoa skin. I almost felt dowdy again standing next to her, even in my blue dress.

"Let's go!" she said, and we made our way downstairs to find a long limousine waiting for us.

"To welcome you properly as one of us," Gracie explained with a smile.

I smiled back uncomfortably. I wondered what Simone would do when I didn't fulfill my side of the deal tonight.

We settled into the plush leather interior and Gracie poured us each a drink from the crystal decanter inside filled with an amber fluid.

"To settle your nerves," she said, handing me a glass. The scotch was a good vintage and I swallowed it gratefully, my stomach doing butterflies.

I wondered if I'd be able to figure out who the man was that had been with Sheila. Her death lingered on my conscience and I felt slightly depressed that nothing had been done to bring her and Mark's killer to justice. Though how far the firm and Blane were involved, I didn't know. Hopefully tonight would bring answers.

"How will I know if it's him or not?" I asked Gracie. She didn't ask what I meant. She knew.

"I heard he goes by 'Enigma,'" she said. "I've never met him so I don't know what he looks like."

Enigma. Okay. That didn't send a chill up my spine or anything.

"Codenames?" I questioned. Gracie nodded.

"I told you that no one uses their real names at these things," she reminded me, "the men included."

I took another gulp of my liquid courage. It flashed through my mind if Blane would like how I looked tonight, then I banished the thought as quickly as it had come. I couldn't afford to get emotional, though a part of me did wish for his solid, reassuring presence, even if he was a liar.

"We're here," Gracie said as we stopped, and I downed the rest of my drink. The door opened and we got out. I was momentarily taken aback. I don't know what I had been expecting but it hadn't been this. We were in front of a very large stone Victorian mansion, for lack of a better word. I felt like I'd stepped into a gothic novel.

"Follow me," Gracie said in an undertone. She raised her chin and walked to the gate as if the sidewalk were a runway. I followed, mustering as much courage and confidence as I could. Gracie muttered something to the man at the gate who scrutinized her and me before allowing us to pass.

"What was that about?" I breathed to her.

"Password," she whispered back.

No one greeted us at the door as we walked inside. It was very dim, only a few scattered candelabras giving off any light. All lamps and overhead lights were turned off. Uneasily, I followed Gracie as she walked down the hallway, the only sound our heels on the marble floor.

We finally came to a set of double doors at least twelve feet tall where two men dressed in tuxedos with black masks stood as sentinels. Gracie didn't acknowledge them so I tried not to stare. Opening the door, she drifted inside, and taking a deep breath, I followed her.

The room I stepped into must have been a ballroom at one time with its easily twenty foot ceiling. Now, however, it was very different. It had been decorated and redone so it seemed a very luxurious outdoor lounge. Groups of chairs, sofas, settees and chaises were scattered around, all in jewel tone colors and soft, plush fabrics. Small tables held more candelabras and heavy curtains and tapestries hung from the walls. The carpet under my feet was thick, muffling my footsteps. Private alcoves had been created using folding wooden screens, though I didn't have a view into any of them to see what they contained. But most surprising of all were the trees that had been brought indoors. Huge urns housed their roots as the trees created even more privacy and shadows.

People were scattered around the room, their conversation muted and muffled by the furniture and tapestries. Music played softly in the background - jazz, I thought. I caught sight of several other women dressed as splendidly as Gracie and me. Everyone was wearing a mask. There were easily twice as many men as women and they were all in white tie tuxedos with the same simple black masks that had covered the guards' faces. Looking around anxiously, I tried to see Gracie, but she'd melted into the crowd.

"So good to see you, my dear," a voice said, and I turned to see a woman, I supposed she was Simone, gliding toward me. She was dressed in long silver gown with a matching mask. "Tell me, Helena dubbed you the Mermaid, did she not?" I swallowed.

"She did," I replied, my voice barely audible. The weirdness of the situation was starting to freak me out and I wondered, a bit anxiously, what I'd gotten myself into.

"Well," she said, "we'll call you Lorelei. Please, don't be nervous," Simone said, grasping my arm and tugging. "Come, let me introduce you to some gentlemen who I think would find you most intriguing."

I allowed her to lead me to a group a ways from the door. Two men and a woman sat talking, one man in a chair and the other on a couch while the woman was artfully arranged on a chaise. Her hair was a platinum blond and she wore a red velvet gown with a slit up the side that had been draped to reveal a long, smooth leg.

"Gentlemen," Simone said, "I'd like you to meet Lorelei, the Mermaid. Lorelei, this is the Scarlet Ibis." She gestured to the woman on the couch who inclined her head slightly to me.