Untitled (21 page)

   In the mirror, I checked out Eve's shrimp-pink, thighhigh dress with its plunging neckline and compared it to the little black dress I had bought for that same, long-ago prom. At the time, I'd thought my dress with its spaghetti straps, nipped-in waist, and handkerchief hem was the ultimate in sexy. The way I remembered, Peter agreed.

   I shook off the memory and looked over Eve again. Next to her, my sexy faded straight into stodgy.

   The bandage on my nose didn't help.

   "Oh, forget it!" I plucked it off and peered in the mirror. Aside from the fact that the skin on my nose was rosy and raw, it didn't look half bad. At least it didn't look as bad as it did with a bandage on.

   "I'm ready," I said, spinning away from the mirror. "Let's get out of here before I change my mind."

   Eve chuckled. "You're not going to change your mind. You never do. Not about anything. You're more dependable than . . ." Her forehead creased. "Well, I don't know what you're more dependable than, but I know you are. If there's one thing you're not, Annie, it's full of surprises."

   "Oh yeah?" I guess the fact that it was less than twentyfour hours since someone tried to pump us full of lead accounted for my adrenaline still running high. I had been feeling feisty all day. "Then what would you say if I told you I called and told Jim I wouldn't be coming in to work tonight?"

   Her mouth fell open.

   "Well . . ." I was honest to a fault. I squirmed. "I didn't exactly tell him. I called and left a message. But I would have told him. If he picked up the phone."

   "He picked up my call when I phoned it to tell him I'd be a little late." Eve gave me a penetrating look. "You're not going to quit, are you?"

   "The restaurant?" I didn't tell Eve, but I had considered it. All of the night before as I replayed the fight with Jim. All that day at work. But just as I didn't jump into things quickly, I didn't jump out of them on a whim, either. "I'm still mad at him," I said. "I know it's childish, but that's why I'm not going in tonight. I hate being treated like a kid. I hate it that Jim doesn't believe we can conduct an investigation and not be so obvious about it that someone wants to kill us."

   "But isn't that exactly what happened?"

   "I guess so, and I hate that, too." I grabbed my coat and stepped aside so Eve could walk out of the apartment first, and I could lock the door behind us. "I hate that we don't have the answers. I hate that more than anything, Eve. If the shooting wasn't random, it means that somebody sees us as a threat. And I hate it that we don't know who or what we've done. Then, on top of it all, to have Jim throw it in our faces . . . He practically came right out and called us amateurs. You heard him."

   "He was upset. Because he cares about you, Annie."

   We were out in the hallway, and even though I knew it was locked, I checked the door one more time, just to be sure. "I know he does," I told Eve. "At least I used to know that he liked me. These days . . . well, I haven't exactly been kind to him. After all, I'm the one who freaked and put the kibosh on our dating. If he changed his mind and decided to find someone else, I'd understand."

   Just as I hoped, Eve didn't jump in and tell me she knew for a fact that Jim had finally thrown in the towel.

   The realization should have made me feel better instead of just making me feel more guilty for the way I'd treated him. "Then there are times like last night . . ." I sighed again. "Honestly, Eve, sometimes I just don't know what the man is thinking."

   Eve laughed and looped her arm through mine. "Isn't that the whole idea! They don't know what we're thinking. We don't know what they're thinking. Come on, Annie, it's what makes the whole thing so much fun."

describe the fund-raiser for Senator Douglas Mercy.

   A tiny plate of appetizers I was too nervous to eat in one hand, a glass of sparkling water in the other, I stood beside a showy display of chrysanthemums in a sweep of fall colors that had been arranged under a bigger-than-life picture of the senator. When it came to mingling, I really was an amateur. While I waited for Eve to come back from the ladies' room where she had gone for one last makeup check with the promise that she'd be back in a twinkling, I tried my best to look inconspicuous. It wasn't hard. All around me, seriousfaced men in suits and women in dresses that put mine to shame talked in hushed tones about things like the trade deficit and global warming and how Senator Mercy, should he be chosen to run for vice president, was sure to make the world a better place.

   I saw Renee and Jennifer, two of the women who had worked with Sarah and had come to the funeral luncheon, walking toward me. I tensed, but of course, I had no need to worry. They weren't expecting to run into any of the help from Bellywasher's mixing with the movers and the shakers. They walked by, looked at me and through me, and kept right on going.

   Which, as far as I was concerned, was all well and good.

   If one of them stopped and asked what I was doing there, what would I have said?

   
Oh, I just dropped in to talk to your boss. I was wonder
ing, see, if he might have been having an affair with Sarah
and if he was going on a cruise with her and if he might have
killed her, too.

   Just thinking the words caused heat to shoot through my cheeks. When a man standing close by happened to turn and look my way, I took a drink, hiding behind my glass of water.

   "Any luck yet?" Eve had sneaked up behind me. "Any sign of our perp?"

   "We don't know he's our perp."

   "No, but he might be. Any sign of him?"

   "He's over there." I looked across the room to where Senator Mercy was talking to a TV reporter. "He's kind of busy."

   "He going to be busy all night. That's how these things work. People are going to hound him until he walks out."

   "So maybe we should leave. Maybe this was a bad idea after all."

   "Annie!" Eve plucked the plate of food out of my hand, deposited it on a nearby table, and snatched the water glass away, too. So that Eve wouldn't be too late getting to work, we had arrived at the fund-raiser just as it started, and there was a crush of people between us and the senator. She slipped behind me and poked her hand into the small of my back, propelling me forward. "You said this was our best opportunity," she reminded me.

   "It is our best opportunity." It was slow going, but with each step, we got closer to Douglas Mercy. I saw him wrap up his conversation with the reporter. No sooner was he done than a group of well-wishers surrounded him.

   I held back. "I just can't believe I'm going to walk up to a senator and ask him if he was going on a cruise with Sarah."

   "Then you don't have to." Eve gave me another poke. "I'll do all the talking."

   Like that was supposed to make me feel better?

   Another shove from Eve. It was perfectly timed—I ended up smack-dab in front of Senator Mercy just as the group of people he'd been talking to wished him their best and walked away. Unfortunately, at the same moment, a group of the senator's supporters squeezed between me and Eve.

   I was on my own.

   "Good evening." The senator gave me his campaign smile and automatically stuck out his hand. "Good of you to come."

   I had no choice but to shake his hand. That, and wonder how I was going to ease into the conversation. I knew there wasn't much time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another group forming. They'd give me a minute or two, tops, before they moved in for their audience with the senator.

   "You probably don't remember me, Senator," I said. "We've met before."

   Douglas Mercy was, after all, a politician. Though I could see the wheels turning, he never missed a beat. "Of course," he said, but I knew that, try as he might, there was no way he could place me.

   I sensed a movement behind me, and Eve stepped up to my side.

   "Of course!" The senator beamed a smile in Eve's direction. He extended his hand. "Miss DeCateur. From the luncheon in Sarah's honor. It's lovely to see you again. And you, too," he said, almost as an afterthought, shifting his gaze back to me. "I'm surprised to see you here."

   "Well you surely shouldn't be." Eve's smile was bright enough for the campaign trail. "We know a good cause when we see one."

   The senator was still holding on to Eve's hand. "And I know beauty when I see it," he said.

   "And there is something we need to tell you." I jumped in, because behind me, I could already hear the anxious shuffle of feet as the next group waited to take our place. I couldn't take the chance of leaving things up to Eve. I had the floor, and I wasn't going to get another chance.

   "Actually, we just wanted you to let you know that we were able to get a refund," I said. "For that cruise Sarah was scheduled to go on."

   Mercy gave me a blank stare.

   "So it's all taken care of, and you don't have to worry about it." I tried for a smile. "But I'm sorry that you'll be traveling alone."

   His gaze never wavered. I never hoped more that the floor would open and swallow me whole.

   Because one look at the senator's blank and slightly confused expression, and I knew that we had the wrong man. It wasn't Senator Douglas Mercy who was headed out on that cruise with Sarah.

   And I had just made myself look like a complete idiot in front of the next vice president of the United States.

   Mortified, I excused myself and hurried to the other side of the room. I didn't even realize Eve hadn't followed me until I'd pushed through the crowd and into the ladies' room. There, I leaned against the wall. The cold tile felt good on my nose.

   My stomach roiled, and it had nothing to do with the appetizers. The only way to keep from being sick was to keep my mind off how goofy I must have looked as I practically came out and accused the senator of having an affair with one of his aides, and the only way to do that was to remind myself of everything we'd learned about the cruise.

   Sarah was traveling double occupancy.

The other occupant was named Douglas Mercy.

   Both Douglas Mercy the senator and Douglas Mercy, his son, were scheduled to be on vacation that week.

   And the senator didn't look like he had any idea what I was talking about.

   The conclusion was obvious: Sarah was traveling with Dougy. But proving it . . . That was another thing altogether.

   There was still no sign of Eve, so when an idea finally occurred to me, I couldn't run it by her. Instead, I reached into my bag for my phone and dialed information to ask for the number of the sleep clinic run by Lorraine Mercy, Dougy's wife.

          By the time I stepped out of the ladies' room, Eve was waiting for me. She was all smiles. "Where'd you go? What did you find out?"

   I was smiling, too. But then, I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself, not to mention pretty smart.

   "I called the sleep clinic in Orange County," I explained. "You know, the one Dougy's wife runs."

Eve moved in closer. "And?"

   "And I've got an appointment to see her. At the beginning of February."

   Eve's blue eyes clouded. "I didn't know you have trouble sleeping."

   I sighed. "I don't. But don't you see what this means? That's the week of the cruise, and Dougy is scheduled for vacation."

   "But his wife isn't!" Eve's eyes went wide. "Which means—"

   "Along with the fact that Senator Mercy didn't seem to have a clue what we were talking about, I'd say it means Dougy is our man. He's the one who was going on the cruise with Sarah. And that might mean he knows something about her death."

   "Oh, I'm so glad." Eve grabbed my arm with both her hands. "I was so worried. I mean, I wouldn't want to date a killer."

   It was my turn to be confused, but Eve cleared that up fast enough. She laughed, so excited she just about jumped up and down.

   "It's the senator," she said. "We're having dinner together next week."

       of Sunday diners snaked out the door, onto the sidewalk, and down King Street.

   Logic dictated that word of Michael O'Keefe's review was spreading, but I knew better. The drive-by shooting had added a weird sort of notoriety to the place, especially since last I heard, the police had yet to find out a thing about who the culprits were and why. Questions abounded, and questions left people to find their own answers. I'd already heard a rumor that Bellywasher's was mobbed up, and another that said (believe it or not) that there was pirate treasure buried in the basement and factions warring to find it. In my mind, this sort of reputation would naturally be bad for business. Apparently, I didn't think like other people.

   If I needed proof, it came as I walked toward the alley that would take me to the back door. As one group of customers left and before another group walked inside, each and every person checked out the bullet holes in our front door.

   Still thinking about how odd this was, I stepped into the kitchen, took off my coat, and stopped cold.

I'd just naturally assumed that Jim would be out at the bar.

Wrong.

   He was at the counter near the stove chopping parsley, and when he heard me walk in, he glanced over his shoulder.

   He didn't smile, but then, what did I expect? It was the first we'd seen each other since our spat outside after the shooting. If Jim didn't know then that I was miffed, he'd probably figured it out since. I'd called out both Friday and Saturday. "Good afternoon," he said.