“For their sakes, let’s hope he doesn’t,” I said. Then I thought of a question for Stewart. “Remember what you said to me about a bumpy night? That sounded familiar.”
He laughed. “Yes, it’s a direct quote from All About Eve.”
“That’s it,” I said. “Bette Davis.”
“My favorite,” Helen Louise said. “That’s exactly who Gerry reminded me of during that scene with Tammy. Gerry’s a tough broad, too.”
Stewart stepped away from his position at the living room door. “I don’t know about you two, but that kind of drama makes me long for more champagne.” He went off in search of more bubbly.
I leaned close to Helen Louise and whispered, “How long do we have to stay to be polite? I’m already feeling too warm with all these people around us.”
Helen Louise responded in a firm tone. “Longer than we’ve been here so far. The champagne probably warmed you up. You finished the first glass already. You usually make one glass last for half an hour, at least.”
Before I could respond, Helen Louise nodded in the direction of the front door and said, “Look who’s here now. I wasn’t sure she would actually grace us with her presence.”
I turned to see who it was. Deirdre Thompson. Doyenne of the neighborhood, second only to my friends the Ducote sisters in what passed for the aristocracy in Athena. Her forebears had settled in Athena at roughly the same time as the Ducote clan and had contributed greatly to the civic life of the town for nearly two hundred years.
Unlike the Ducote sisters, Deirdre had married, and more than once. When the latest husband died, she resumed the surname of her first husband, Cedric Thompson, but she kept everything else from the subsequent marriages.
She arrived alone. She acknowledged Jincy’s greeting but moved on quickly. Chip and Betty Camden approached her and led her toward us. Deirdre nodded and vouchsafed a brief smile as the trio moved past us into the living room.
“Deirdre looks to be in a good mood tonight,” Helen Louise said. “I didn’t realize she was so friendly with Chip and Betty, though. Ever since she parted ways with Chip’s law firm, anyway.”
“Must have been an amicable split, from the look of things,” I said. Deirdre continued to smile pleasantly as we watched her move along the table, the Camdens almost on her heels. “Maybe Chip is trying to woo her back.”
“Good evening.” Gerry Albritton’s cool voice came from behind. Helen Louise and I turned to greet our hostess.
“So glad you could come,” Gerry said in response to our comments on the party. She held a large snifter in one hand, not a champagne glass like everyone else. I found that odd. She had a sip of what looked like brandy. “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves, despite the ridiculous drama that deranged woman caused.” She smiled. “Why on earth she would imagine I have any interest whatsoever in her poor husband, I don’t have the least idea. I do shop in his drugstore, and we may have passed the time of day a few times, but that’s all.”
“Most everyone in town knows Tammy,” Helen Louise said. “She has cried wolf over Milton so many times I doubt anyone here took her seriously. There’s no need for you to even think about it.” She waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.
I nodded. “Helen Louise is right. Most people steer clear of Tammy if they can. Everyone knows what she’s like.”
“If she sets foot on my property again, I’ll sue her for trespassing.” Gerry grimaced. “If you can sue someone for that. I doubt she’ll have the guts to show up here again anytime soon.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen the last of her,” Helen Louise said in a soothing tone. “Don’t give her another thought.”
Gerry smiled. “If I feel like I need protection, I can always yell for help from Charlie, since he’s only across the street from me.” She laid a hand on my arm and let it rest there for a few seconds before pulling it away.
Helen Louise did not find that amusing, and frankly, neither did I. Surely the woman wasn’t flirting with me right under my partner’s nose. I looked sharply at Gerry but couldn’t detect any hint of irony or humor in her manner.
“You’d do better to call the police department,” I said in as polite a tone as I could muster. “I’m not much good at heroics, like chasing burglars or stopping would-be attackers.”
Gerry’s attention appeared to be drawn somewhere else at that moment. She murmured “Excuse me” and walked away from Helen Louise and me.
“What is with her? Rudeness on top of that blatant flirting,” Helen Louise said, an irritated glint in her eye. “I’m not going to put up with any more of that behavior.”
“Don’t get too annoyed. She was probably joking with us,” I said, although I didn’t think my protest sounded even partially convincing.
Helen Louise slipped her arm through mine and pulled me closer. “Maybe, but if she was, it was in extremely poor taste.”
“Granted,” I said, “but you’ve seen that living room and that horrendous display in her front yard. Would you call either of them tasteful?”
“Point taken,” Helen Louise replied. “Let’s find more champagne and see if there are any sweets to be had.”
We found the dining room, along with more champagne and, as Helen Louise had predicted, small cheesecake squares. There were also morsels of chocolate, peppermints, and several types of cookies. No chocolate-covered cherries, however.
Before long, as we encountered various people to converse with, we ended up in different rooms. I found myself back in the living room, having accompanied Stewart and a colleague of his from the college chemistry department on a quest for more mini-quiche. I didn’t know Stewart’s colleague, a jovial man about my age who lived a couple of streets behind me. His name was Gary Fenstermacher, and I discovered that he, like me, was an avid mystery reader. We discussed our favorite writers. He turned out to be a fan of serial killer novels and international intrigue thrillers, neither of which appealed to me all that much. I had read many of the late Helen MacInnes’s novels, however, and he turned out to be a huge fan. We were discussing her, with Stewart listening patiently but not contributing to the conversation, when I became aware of a new arrival.
What was Melba doing here?
She didn’t live in the neighborhood, but she might have wrangled an invitation from Gerry. I thought that unlikely, however, after Melba’s attempt to question Gerry and find out about her past. Melba turned to smile at a man who approached her, and I recognized him. He was Jared Carter, a widower who lived next door to Gerry on the north side. I had heard Melba mention Jared a couple of times recently, but I hadn’t thought much about it. He was a well-known, successful dentist, and she might have been to see him professionally. She chattered about all sorts of people, and—rude though it might have been—I didn’t always pay close attention.
I couldn’t recall the context in which Melba had brought up Jared’s name, whether professionally or personally, but from the playful look she was giving him right then—and the indulgent smile he wore in return—I would have to say it must have been personal. They were obviously interested in each other. I didn’t think Melba would feign interest in a man simply to attend a party, no matter how deep her curiosity about its hostess.
I became aware that Gary was waiting for a reply from me, but I had no idea what he had said or asked. I smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, Gary, I got distracted when I saw a good friend of mine over there.” I tilted my head in Melba’s direction.
Gary and Stewart followed my gaze. Gary laughed. “Melba Gilley, I see. She’s definitely distracting. Who’s that she’s with?”
“A neighbor of mine,” I said. “In fact, he lives next door to this house. Jared Carter. I hope you’ll pardon me, but I must go speak to Melba and Jared.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Gary replied. “Stewart and I can gossip about the chemistry department. Have you heard the latest about the chairman’s oldest son?”