Would she accept her defeat graciously? I wondered. If she didn’t, she risked huge public embarrassment. She would become a laughingstock if she made a scene, and somehow I couldn’t see Vera exposing herself to open public ridicule.
Vera’s hoop skirt snagged on the spurs worn by one man in cowboy garb. As she jerked the fabric loose with a vicious tug, she nearly pulled the man off his feet. He managed to stay upright, but Vera never paused to apologize. She made it the last three feet to where the mayor and Miss An’gel waited and turned to face the room.
Miss An’gel preempted her. “Vera, my dear, I’m so delighted you were chosen for this award, and my sister and I are thrilled to support it. You have done so much for the community, and we wanted to be sure you got the kind of award you so richly deserve. We regret that you have decided to retire from your charitable work, but we understand that sometimes private life must come before public duty. We will surely miss your work with the Friends of Athena Public Library.” She bestowed a beaming smile upon her adversary.
Vera’s shoulders slumped as she accepted the plaque from Lucinda Long. She struggled for a smile but never quite managed it. When she spoke her voice was unsteady. “I can’t tell you all how surprised I am to receive this. I never expected anything like it.” Her mouth closed, and she stood there awkwardly, clasping the award to her bosom.
I almost felt sorry for her. The Ducote sisters had managed to spike her guns but good.
I was also relieved that she appeared to accept the inevitable. There had been enough unpleasant scenes tonight.
Morty Cassity joined his wife, and Miss An’gel stepped aside. “Thank you all. I know Vera is touched and honored by this gesture.” He frowned, no doubt puzzled by all this, since I was sure it was as much a surprise to him as it was to his wife. “I think this calls for some more of that fine champagne.” He led Vera away, and conversation slowly resumed as the waiters spread through the room dispensing more of the bubbly.
Helen Louise and I looked at each other. “Can you beat that?” I said.
She grinned. “Remind me never to get on Miss An’gel’s bad side. That was absolutely brilliant.”
“You have to hand it to her. She said she and Miss Dickce were going to neutralize Vera, and they did it.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced up to see my daughter, suddenly blond, smiling down at me. “Hi, Dad, Helen Louise. Frank and I ran late, I’m afraid. What did we miss?”
Frank, a husky, bearded young man a few years older than Laura, greeted us. “My fault. Had a student having a postexam meltdown that I had to take care of.” Frank taught lighting and set design at the college.
“We only caught the tail end of it.” Laura sipped her champagne. “Mrs. Cassity looked like a thundercloud when she passed us on the way out of the room.”
I quickly explained, and Frank and Laura shared a glance of amusement.
“Think that will really shut her up?” Frank shook his head. “In my experience nothing except the grave will stop that harpy from meddling in things.”
“After what Miss An’gel just pulled off,” Helen Louise said, “Vera will look like a fool if she doesn’t go quietly.”
“Enough of that,” I said. “Let’s forget about Vera and try to enjoy the party.” I examined my daughter. The fake hair, along with a demure wool dress, gloves, sensible shoes, and cloche hat, reminded me of illustrations from one of my favorite series of children’s books. She also clutched a magnifying glass in one hand. When I matched that with Frank’s getup—gray flannel trousers, white shirt with bow tie, and letterman’s sweater emblazoned with a large E—I figured I knew who they were supposed to be.
Helen Louise spoke first, however. “Well, Miss Nancy Drew, how nice to see you with your favorite escort, Ned Nickerson. How are things at Emerson College, Ned?”
Frank laughed. “Peachy keen, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t shave tonight.”
“I think Ned looks rather fetching with a beard, don’t you?” Laura’s eyes sparkled with humor as she regarded her boyfriend.
“Definitely,” Helen Louise said.
“Have you seen Sean and Alexandra?” I asked. “I’m curious to see how they’re dressed.”
“They’re here somewhere,” Frank said as he glanced about. He waved. “Here they come now.”
Sean and Alexandra Pendergrast loomed into view, and they made a particularly striking couple. Sean was six-three, and in her heels Alexandra was only a couple of inches shorter. Sean had his hair slicked back in a severe style, and he sported a monocle in his left eye. His Edwardian-style evening wear flattered his muscular figure, and Alexandra’s frock, a straight flapper dress with sheer beaded overdress, complimented his attire nicely.
“Good evening, all. What an absolutely frightful crush.” Sean’s attempt at an aristocratic English accent was excellent. His sister must have coached him.
“I think there’s another actor in the Harris family,” Alexandra said with a fond glance at my son.
Laura grinned. “I know. I’ve been telling Dad that Diesel would be a natural for cat food commercials.”
“So frightfully unamusing, sister dear.” Sean’s tone was frosty, but his eyes twinkled.
“My dear Lord Peter,” I said, addressing my son, “it doesn’t do to insult one’s sister in public.” I turned to Alexandra, who was as big a fan of Dorothy L. Sayers as my son was. “Miss Vane, you are looking particularly lovely tonight.”
“Merci beaucoup, M’sieur Poirot.” Alexandra’s French accent was flawless, as were the teeth she flashed in a broad smile.
We continued to chat for a while, and I enjoyed myself. Nothing pleased me more than having those I loved so close by. If only Diesel and Justin were here with us, I thought.
The party wore on, but by nine thirty people began to leave. Tomorrow was a workday for many of those in attendance, including Helen Louise and me, and I was ready to go home. As a board member, however, I needed to hang on for a while yet. Laura, Frank, Sean, and Alexandra had departed about twenty minutes prior, and only five other people were still in the parlor. Even the waiters had left the room.
Neither of the Ducote sisters was present, nor did I see Sissy, Hank, or Stewart. I thankfully hadn’t seen Vera since she had received her award. Perhaps she and Morty had left already.
“Let’s go find Miss An’gel,” I said to Helen Louise, “and let them know we’re going.”
“Good idea.” Helen Louise covered her mouth as she yawned. “I have to be up at four.”
“Poor baby. You’ll be exhausted at work all day.” I tucked her hand in my left arm as we headed for the parlor door.
In the hallway we encountered Kanesha and Robert Sharp. Kanesha appeared worried. “Charlie, have you seen my mother recently? We can’t find her anywhere. She’s not in the kitchen, and Miss Clementine hasn’t seen her in half an hour, at least.”
“I’m sure she’s fine, honey,” Sharp said, a protective arm sliding around Kanesha’s shoulders.
“Who’re you looking for?” Morty Cassity walked up to us. “I can’t find Vera, neither. Any of you seen her lately?”
THIRTEEN
Azalea and Vera both unaccounted for—that earlier ugly scene between them reran in my head. What if they had confronted each other again?
“We need to find them,” I said. “Quickly.”
Kanesha’s eyes narrowed as they bored into me. I knew that look of suspicion all too well. “Right. Robert and I will take the third floor. We’ve already been through this floor. Helen Louise, you and Mr. Cassity take the second. Charlie, would you find Miss An’gel or Miss Dickce? They’re probably down here somewhere.”