A Season for Killing Blondes (22 page)

Grace surprised me the most. She did spend most of dinner talking with Scott, the Australian nephew, but afterward she weaved in and out of all the groups. I recognized and appreciated a master networker in action. I thought of all the books and articles I had read on the topic. I had even conducted several of those workshops. And here was a young woman, not yet thirty, who could give me lessons in that department.

I found myself on the periphery of the room and stood alone contentedly watching everyone else in action.

“Mingle!” Sofia said. “You can’t just stand around and not talk to anyone.”

“Not that you’ve noticed, but I have mingled. You’ve been busy with Roberto.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“The two of you are attached at the hip. I don’t think he will stray too far from you.”

Her face brightened. “You think there is hope for us as a couple?”

“Yes, I honestly do.” I waved my hand up and down. “After all, you’re the complete package: the best of mama’s cooking, a great social hostess, and beautiful to boot.” Sofia’s black cocktail dress fit snugly over her toned and slender body, and her eyes shone with excitement. The old Sofia had returned. All those years she had been married to Andrew, she had been on guard and with good reason. Andrew was a critical, demanding husband, and his obnoxious behavior was exacerbated by his excessive drinking.

“Thank you, Gilda. That’s one of the nicest compliments you have ever paid me.”

“You look so relaxed. Like a large burden has been lifted from your shoulders and your life.”

“Andrew is out of my life forever.” Sofia flashed a radiant smile, one I couldn’t recall ever seeing before.

“I had my doubts about Roberto, but he is behaving very well this evening.”

“He likes to party, but he knows his limits. He doesn’t get drunk, and he has never, ever criticized me in any way.” Sofia was about to add something and then changed her mind.

“But—”

“What do you mean?” Sofia gave me her full attention.

“There is a but. I feel one coming.”

She narrowed her eyes in doubt. “He has started to talk about one of the women he is representing.”

“Maybe he’s just sharing with you.”

“That’s what I thought at first. But this lady is different. She is younger than his usual clientele, blonde and beautiful.”

“So that explains the lighter hair.”

“I had to go back again to get the color right.” Sofia laughed as she touched her hair.

“I didn’t care for it the other day, but it looks great now.” I added, “You shouldn’t worry so much. After all, you have a Plan B, and I am certain that Ray would be more than interested.”

“If I didn’t know you any better, Gilda Greco, I would say you were interested in Ray yourself.” She squeezed my hand. “Or maybe you’re trying to make a certain detective jealous.”

“Not to worry. I have no designs on Ray. But I agree with both you and Jenny Marie. He has changed and for the better. Did you know that he is considering getting into local politics?”

Sofia leaned closer. “Local politics…interesting.”

“You’d make a great mayor’s wife.”

“Listen to us. We sound like teenagers at our first dance.” She nudged me with her elbow. “What about Carlo? Did he say anything to you tonight.”

“Other than hello and how are you, nothing.”

Sofia frowned. “I even put him next to you at dinner.”

“He spent most of the night talking to your father about the good old days and Italy. I’m glad that Ray was sitting next to me.”

Sofia surveyed the room with a critical air. “An eclectic group, but it did work.”

“Our mothers had a good time as well.”

Sofia’s eyes flickered with annoyance. “They spent most of the evening in the kitchen, attending to details that had already been attended to.”

“They did sit and socialize with Elsa and Martino.” I would never have invited an ex-sister-in-law to a party celebrating a new relationship. But it seemed the relationship between Sofia and Elsa had survived Andrew’s defection.

“She’s been a good friend,” Sofia said. “She doesn’t begrudge me my relationship with Roberto.”

“Whatever makes you happy is fine with all of us. That’s all we want for you. You’ve done so much for everyone, and now it’s your turn to be happy.”

“Yes, it’s my turn to be happy.”

“And you make me very happy, pretty lady.” Roberto’s arm circled around Sofia, and he spun her around expertly.

I slipped away and headed toward the opposite end of the room. Carlo and I approached the dessert bar at the same time. I felt awkward but knew I had to say something. “Isn’t this a beautiful spread?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had such an elaborate meal. Your cousin sets a fine table.” He sounded relaxed.

“She’s our Martha Stewart.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to chat with you this evening.” He lowered his voice. “There’s so much I would like to tell you, but it’s not the right time or place.”

“About the murders?” My heart skipped a beat.

“That and a few personal issues,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten about our date. It’s just that I’m swamped with work right now, and I’m under a lot of pressure to bring some kind of closure to the murder cases.”

“Are you close to that stage?”

“Getting there. We have narrowed down the field of suspects.”

“Do you have the one?”

“Almost there.”

“Looks like you two are plotting a coup. Lighten up and enjoy the party.” Roberto approached without Sofia in tow. “It’s so nice to see everyone in a normal setting.” He gestured toward the room. “Sofia knows how to put on a good show. If I ever decide to run for political office, she’ll be at my side all the way.”

Another wannabe politician in the group, I thought.

“And what office would that be?” Carlo asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. With the right woman at my side, I would consider running provincially or federally. What do you think, Gilda? Would Sofia be up for it?”

“Up for what?” Sofia joined him and linked her arm through his.

“Helping Roberto become premier or prime minister.” I was surprised to hear myself give Roberto such lofty ambitions. Must be the wine talking.

“Hey, slow down. I just said I would consider running as MPP or MP. I don’t know about going for the whole enchilada. But thanks for the vote of confidence, Gilda. I’ll be sure to call on you as campaign manager.” Roberto winked at me and then pulled Carlo aside. “Excuse us, ladies. I have a few matters to discuss with my favorite detective.”

Sofia frowned. “I wonder what that’s all about.”

I imagine Roberto had his own theories about the murders and wanted to share them with Carlo. I squeezed Sofia’s arm. “Don’t worry about the blonde bimbette. After tonight, I don’t think he’ll be talking about her too much longer.”

Before Sofia could respond, her parents approached and announced they were leaving. My mother and several other couples were also starting to make motions to leave. Sofia left me to say goodbye to her guests.

“Blonde bimbette! I hope you weren’t talking about me?” I turned and saw Grace standing behind me.

“Someone else who has nothing at all to do with us,” I said as I hugged her close. “And never will.”

“Another blonde on the chopping block?”

I shivered. “How can you even suggest such a thing? If you must know, we were talking about one of Roberto’s clients. She is young, blonde and vulnerable.”

“He’s probably hit on her,” Grace said matter-of-factly. “He doesn’t waste too much time.”

“Grace, what are you saying? Did he…?” I couldn’t believe Roberto would even consider approaching another woman right under Sofia’s nose.

“Yes, in a very subtle way, but I put him off.”

It sounded like Roberto had not changed his stripes. I couldn’t believe how disappointed I felt. I had been prepared to give Roberto the benefit of the doubt, but now I wondered if I should be warning Sofia instead. Not that she would even listen. “I thought he and Sofia might have a chance together.”

“That’s a possibility, but it doesn’t preclude him cheating on her. He likes harems.”

My eyes traveled around the room. “I hope he hasn’t hit on anyone else in the room. Most of these ladies are friends of Sofia. It would be so awkward if anything happened.”

“Not to worry,” Grace said. “He likes them young and blonde. As for these women being friends, I don’t think they’re all that close to your cousin.”

I put thoughts of Sofia out of my mind and focused on the lovely, young woman standing next to me. “You seem to have circulated very well. Where did you learn to work a room?”

“I spent a few months with Melly Grace after I graduated, and I learned a lot from that woman. I used to joke that I received a ninety-day MBA from her.”

“She was so good at making herself comfortable and flourishing in all situations. I see you have that gift as well.”

“I had an ulterior motive tonight,” Grace whispered. “I wanted to learn as much as possible about the murders.”

“You discussed the murders with these people?” If Sofia learned about Grace’s networking, she would be furious.

“Not directly. I’m much more subtle than that. But I was able to uncover some interesting tidbits about Anna May.”

“Such as…?”

“With the exception of your mother and Scott, everyone else has had some kind of negative experience with Anna May in the last six months.” Grace leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “I can feel the presence of the murderer in this room.”

I gasped, and my hand flew to my mouth.

“I’ll drop by your office tomorrow morning. In the meantime, smile and try to look as if nothing had happened. If you must, think of everyone in this room in their underwear or naked.” She winked at me and then headed toward the dessert bar.

I was still trying to collect myself when the Taylors approached. Michael’s face was flushed, his jaw clenched.

Jean spoke, her voice warm with sympathy and concern. “What’s wrong, Gilda?”

“Did Grace say something to upset you?” Michael asked. “That young woman has a habit of stirring up trouble. Someone needs to sit her down and have a long chat about appropriate behavior.” He muttered, “I can’t believe she’s still talking about those murders.”

So much for Grace’s subtlety. I hoped that no one else had caught on to her real motives. Michael looked like he wanted to throttle Grace.

Jean put her hand on his arm. “Relax, hon. You know how intense Grace can be. I imagine she’s still mourning her two aunts and cousin. I know she was really close to Carrie Ann and Melly Grace. And Anna May—”

“Anna May tried everyone’s patience, even her mother’s,” Michael said. “I have always wondered how someone as kind and considerate as Elizabeth could produce such a selfish, egotistical child. While I hated to see her die, it’s a blessing she did not live to see her eldest daughter involved in three murders.”

Jean’s eyes welled with tears. Elizabeth Godfrey was the only mother figure she had ever known. It must be very hard for Jean to recall her death.

Michael continued, oblivious to his wife’s discomfort. “Elizabeth bailed her out so many times. Full of beans, she used to say. After her divorce and breakdown, she blamed poor Ray.” He nodded in my direction. “You’re a counselor, Gilda. Would you diagnose her as…as what…a narcissist?”

Takes one to know one, I thought. My eyes traveled to the half-full glass of wine in his hand. I wondered how many glasses he had consumed. I didn’t want to dwell on Anna May’s pathology, so I decided to deflect the situation. “I don’t like to think about that whole unpleasant episode. It’s behind me now, and I hope to move forward.”

I was rewarded with a grateful smile from Jean. “I’m so glad to hear that, Gilda. You must come back to Wednesday night yoga. It’s not the same without you. There’s an empty space between Adele and Laura that needs to be filled.” She repeated, “You must come back.”

I found myself nodding in agreement. “I’ll try to make it this week.” In spite of everything that had happened, I still missed that feeling of calm after her sessions.

Chapter 26

Saturday, November 12, 2011

I arrived at the ReCareering office bright and early the following morning. I had planned to get a lot of paperwork out of the way, but I couldn’t concentrate. Grace had calmly and matter-of-factly stated that she felt the murderer’s presence at the party, and I had believed her. After a lifetime of ignoring my own mother’s premonitions and dreams, I had accepted the younger woman’s intuitive feelings as fact. While tossing and turning all night, I had gone through Sofia’s entire guest list. A few days ago, I would have accused one of the bad boys, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. I believed that Michael Taylor was capable of murder, and he might have held a grudge toward Carrie Ann and Melly Grace, but what would motivate him to help Anna May kill Natalia?

As for Aunt Amelia and Uncle Paolo, it was ludicrous to consider the two of them as suspects. But I was curious about their encounter with Anna May. Strange that Sofia never mentioned it.

Loud knocking on the picture window interrupted my thoughts. I looked up and smiled at Grace. Dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and a baseball cap, she was still drop-dead gorgeous. The combination of porcelain skin framed by a cascade of ash blonde curls needed no further embellishment. I let her in, and Grace followed me into the smaller counseling office. She then turned and walked back toward the front window and looked out into the parking lot. Satisfied, she returned to the office and closed the door behind her.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“I think someone might be following me.”

“Does Carlo know?” I reached for the telephone.

“I have no real proof, so there’s no point alarming the police. I can feel someone watching and waiting for me to make some kind of move.” She shivered. “The murderer is still out there.”

“And you think we were graced with his presence last night?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I have strong visceral reactions to both extreme positive and negative events and people. I’ve only felt this way twice in the last few weeks: at the memorial service and at Sofia’s party.” She added, “The diary supports my feelings.”