Murder on the First Day of Christmas (Chloe Carstairs Mysteries) (20 page)

    
“Uh-huh. But did he bother to let me in on the joke? No, ma’am. Every time I saw him talking to Gavin, I cringed, wondering if, once again, he knew something about my husband that was going to bite me in the butt.”

    
“I can’t believe you guys were still friends.”

    
“It’s too small a community to hold grudges. Best just to watch your back and keep dancing.”

    
Loud laughter from the bar made it sound like plenty of people shared her philosophy.

    
“What will Robin do now?” Mom asked.

    
“Who knows? Who cares?”

    
“You don’t like her?”

    
I wondered if Bunny resented Robin’s youth and beauty.

    
“I just don’t have much use for her.  She’s a snaky one. Didn’t you see the way she was playing up to Tony Trianos? And to Jack Lassiter? A girl would be wise to watch her man around that one.”

    
Ah… Competition. Bunny wasn’t one to share the spotlight.

    
“You sure finished that one in a hurry,” Bunny laughed. “I’m ready for a refill myself.”

    
I looked down at Mom’s empty glass in astonishment. How the hell had that happened?

    
“No way, Bunny. Uh-uh. I couldn’t.”

    
“Too late. I already signaled our server. Last call, I promise.”

    
“You think there was something going on between Robin and Tony Treenos?” Mom tried again. “Tree-ah-nos.”

    
I was going to have to drag her out of here.

    
Bunny laughed. “I think Robin wanted there to be, but with the dress I had on? She was out of luck.”

    
“Don’t you mean the dress you almost had on?” Mom teased.

    
“It was a knock out, wasn’t it?”

    
“A knock off?”

    
Uh-oh.

    
“You feeling ok, honey?” Bunny asked.

    
Mom nodded. “Course, why you ask?” She licked her lips. “Why. Do. You. Ask.”

    
The waitress put new drinks down. Mom carefully slid hers away, sloshing a little on the table.

    
“It’s too full,” Bunny chided. “Drink it down a little so it doesn’t spill.”

    
Mom did as she was told, despite my signaling like a third base coach, then pushed her glass away again. “You drink it.”

    
“Sure. Just leave it there.”

    
Mom looked around. “I can see why Chloe chose this place. It’s funky.”

    
When she turned back to the table her drink was back in front of her. That bitch was trying to get my mother drunk and succeeding beautifully.

    
“Chose this place for what?” Bunny asked.

    
“What?”

    
“You said Chloe chose this place. For what?”

     I
put my hands to my head, willing my mother to keep her wits about her. But apparently they had been drowned in a sea of sour apple.

    
“Questioning Jack Lassiter.” Mom’s words were graced with a slight ‘sh’ sound to them, particularly those that didn’t contain the letters ‘sh.’

    
“Questioning him. ‘Bout what?”

    
“You know, this and that. Various and a sundry.”

    
Cagey little thing, wasn’t she?

    
“Give me a for instance.”

    
“For instance, ‘where were you on the night of December fourteenth?’”

    
“And why would she be doing that?”

    
“I’ll ask the questions here!” Mom snapped.

    
Good cop, bad cop. Subtle, Mom.

    
Mom seemed to have forgotten I was hiding out. “Look, she’s going home with him.” She turned right toward me, pointing to where Rory was leaving with the woman in the low-cut dress.

     Bunny turned.

     Busted.

    
“Well, well. Guess it’s my turn now to be questioned.”

    
“What? No! Silly thing,” Mom replied. “We know where you were the night of December fourteenth.”

    
I pulled over a chair and sat next to Mom.

    
“Because I thought it was strange that you wanted to go out tonight.” Bunny was talking to Mom, but her eyes were studying me with more shrewdness than I liked.

    
I wondered if she wore contacts. Her eyes really were a most improbable shade of green.

    
“Amanda?”

     “Bunny?”

     “Was that why you wanted to go out tonight?”

    
“C’mon. We never go out. I thought it’d be fun.”

     “It is fun. Another martini?”

     “No!” I pulled Mom’s half-half full glass over to me.

    
“So, did Gavin know Oscar and Saul before he married you?” Mom asked, back down to business.

    
Bunny looked amused. “Why, Amanda Carstairs, I do believe you girls are playing detective.”

    
“Just simple, everyday curiosity,” I took a sip of Mom’s drink. Lethal.

    
Bunny laughed.

    
“So you got an answer or what?” Mom said sharply.

    
“Ok, I’ll play. Yeah, he knew them both. He had been a consultant on a case Oscar prosecuted, and when Saul wrote a book about the case, he was a source.
Baby Brokers
, I think it was called.

    
“So they all got along?” I asked.

    
“One big happy family.”

    
Raised voices and more laughter at the bar attracted our attention. By the looks of all the pretty young things in low-slung jeans, sheer tops and high heels, a bachelorette party was well underway. One of girls wore a cheap bridal veil, and the others were making her complete tasks on a crumpled list pinned to her shirt. The girls’ drink of choice? The apple martini. I was getting too old for this.

    
I turned back to Bunny, ready to complete my questioning and head home. “And how about you? Saul ever try his little emotional blackmail schemes on you?”

    
Bunny laughed again. “I’m surprised at you two. You know I don’t have any secrets. What fun would that be? Now, let’s talk about you, Amanda. Monica Dupree isn’t scared to have you decorating for her? Seems to me, your last couple of clients haven’t fared so well.”

    
“So you mentioned to anyone who would listen.” Mom’s eyes narrowed. “But no, Monica’s just fine with me working on her house. It’s going gangbusters.”

    
“Brave soul. I don’t think I’d risk it.” Bunny leaned in, her tube top slipping precariously so that the deep line of her cleavage looked like an undiapered baby’s bottom. “I mean, if you’re really looking into this, you might consider that someone has it in for you.”

    
“There would be easier ways to get at her,” I scoffed. “In that scenario, Oscar and Saul would be innocent bystanders. Hardly the case.”

    
“Maybe so,” Bunny mused, leaning back. “Still, I bet the police are taking a long hard look at her. As a suspect, I mean. Close ties to both victims. Full run of both murder scenes. Who knows what she was up to.”

    
“You’re losing your mind, dear,” Mom said. “As well as your shirt.” She pushed my chair back “I think it’s time we called it a night. I’m just going to slip back and say good-bye to Chloe.”

    
“I’m right here, Mom.”

    
“So you are, dear. I’m afraid I could use a ride home.”

CHAPTER 23

    
“Did you puke? You might feel better if you puked.”

    
“Chloe, if you say that word one more time, I swear I’ll disown you.”

    
The next morning brought Mom a pounding headache, a queasy stomach and a visit from her younger daughter. I found her on the couch nursing what I gleefully identified as a hangover.

    
“I’m just saying…”

    
“I know what you’re saying, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t say it in that annoyingly shrill voice of yours. Whisper.”

    
“Did Dad see you this morning? Bet he got a kick out of it.” Really, Christmas had come early this year.

    
“He did seem slightly amused.” Mom cringed at the thought. “God. I only had three and a half drinks. Four if you count the wine I had before going out just to make being around Bunny more tolerable. True, I didn’t have much dinner, but this is ridiculous.”

    
“Hey, guys! How’s our little patient?”

    
Mom winced at the sight of Bridget in the doorway and then fixed me with a withering glance. Her revenge would be swift and sure.

    
“She’s hanging low,” I said. “Very low.”

    
“What are her symptoms?” Bridget asked, sitting next to me on the edge of the couch.

    
“Headache and nausea,” I supplied.

    
Bridget put her hand on Mom’s. “Any chance you could be…pregnant?”

    
Mom yanked her hand away and used one foot to kick Bridget off the couch. I could tell the movement sent an aftershock of pain through my mother’s head.

    
“You girls need to leave now. My dying wish is to be left alone.”

    
“Did she puke? You might feel better if you puke,” Bridget said in all seriousness.

    
Mom spoke clearly. “I obviously failed to instill any sense of class or manners into you girls. You are both without the slightest bit of decorum.”

    
Bridget smiled indulgently and dug into her purse, pulling out three bottles of Pedialyte. “Best thing for a hangover. I’ve got cherry and apple.”

    
Mom moaned. “Don’t say apple.”

    
“What were you doing out with Bunny Beaumont in the first place?” Bridget poured juice into the water glass Mom had just drained. “Since when are y’all such big buddies?”

    
I jumped right on that one. “That’s the best part. See, Mom was being her usual nosy self, making sure I was on my best behavior with Jack Lassiter. When really, in a deliciously ironic twist, she was the one who needed a chaperone, because she was the one slamming drinks like a sorority girl at a keg stand.”

    
Mom grabbed my wrist and squeezed a little harder than necessary. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your voice down? Now, get going, the both of you. You…” She pointed to Bridget. “Hand me that juice. And you…” This to me. “Be back here in three hours with chicken salad sandwiches and a large unsweetened iced tea, ready to work. I’ve put up with all I’m going to.”

    
By the time I got back at noon, Mom looked more like herself. The iced tea helped, and the chicken salad soaked up the last of the alcohol. It would be a long time before she would have another cocktail.

    
I could tell she was in no mood to hear any more teasing, so as we ate we got right down to exchanging notes on the previous night.

    
Mom thought my news about the gifts in Oscar’s Santa sack was quite interesting, while I was still intrigued that both Bunny and Gavin Beaumont had a history with Saul.

    
“Handcuffs, huh?” Mom referred to the gift Oscar had intended for Angela.

    
“Could be innocuous. Crime was her life. Or it could mean that she was somehow bound to Saul.”

    
“Or something else entirely, maybe something with the severed hand? We need to think on that one some more. As for Nancy’s gift, I would’ve liked to have seen her face when she opened that one.”

    
Like the handcuffs, the gift certificate for Pilates lessons could have been given with either innocent or malicious intent.

    
“Did you find out about the Beaumonts?” she asked.

    
“I almost forgot about them,” I confessed, “but as soon as I remembered, I asked. Jack said Bunny also got a Pilates gift certificate, which I thought was weird. If Oscar knew about Nancy’s affair, was he also implying that Bunny was fooling around with Lance? Or was he simply handing out gift certificates?”

    
Mom didn’t have a guess on that one either. Bunny and Lance? I’m not saying it was impossible, but Bunny hadn’t even hinted at such a thing.