A Date With Death: Cozy Private Investigator Series (Flora Lively Mysteries Book 2)

by Joanne Phillips

  Transfixed, Flora barely noticed when the director threw up his arms in a final gesture of disgust. By the time she realised the pair were marching towards her, it was too late to get out of the way.

  ‘Ah, amiga de Celeste! Flora, no?’ Alberto drew to a halt when he noticed Flora, but his companion let out a stream of incomprehensible Spanish, then fairly screamed when Alberto reached for Flora’s hand. He was clearly going in for another kiss. Flora snatched her hand away, but not before the woman in the tiara had turned on her.

  ‘Déjalo en paz,’ she cried. Or rather, snarled.

  Flora held out her hands, palms up, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m sorry, I was just walking past. This is nothing to do with me.’

  The woman swatted at Alberto, all the time letting off a stream of what Flora could only assume were Spanish swear words. But when she turned to Flora and said, ‘Whore!’, even with the word split into two – ‘Who-rah’ – Flora figured she got the meaning pretty clear.

  Alberto jumped to her defence, throwing one arm around Flora’s shoulders while gesturing at the woman with the other. Flora, now close enough to smell his breath – garlic and whisky, not the nicest combination – and close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his upper lip, pushed him away.

  ‘That’s not helping,’ she told him.

  ‘Is my wife,’ he said, pulling an apologetic face. ‘She crazy. Loco.’ He made a sort of finger-twirling sign around his ears – the international symbol for off-your-rocker.

  ‘No estoy loca – tu estás loco!’ his wife shouted, and then she thrust herself towards Flora, pushing past her to re-enter the house. Flora, knocked off balance in more ways than one, staggered backwards and fell into the flower bed.

  ‘Dulce corazón, espera.’

  Flora watched in amazement as Alberto followed his wife back into the manor house, his voice conciliatory and pleading.

  ‘Fantastic,’ she said, lifting up her hands to inspect them. She’d tried to break her fall, but now not only was her dress covered in dusty soil, so were her fingernails. Celeste would certainly not approve of this.

  ‘Need a hand?’

  Flora looked up, startled. Standing over her, extending a long-fingered, manicured hand, was Jack Harding.

  Chapter 3

  While Jack helped her to her feet, Flora took in his changed appearance. When she’d last seen him, about two years after they’d graduated from university, he’d been the same skinny, geeky guy she and Celeste had hung around with from time to time – sweet, perhaps even good-looking, but also a little annoying in his eagerness to please. Now, the only thing that remained was the good-looking part. He’d filled out some, and gone were the geeky glasses and the pale skin that spoke of too many hours playing computer games. This Jack seemed assured and confident, and he was looking at Flora with more than just a touch of amusement.

  ‘Well, Flora Lively – it really is you. Getting yourself into more scrapes, I see.’ Jack was clearly making his own appraisal of her, and Flora wondered what he saw, how much he thought she’d changed. The hair was different, but not much else. Except she’d aged, of course. Everybody aged.

  ‘I wish you’d come along a few minutes sooner,’ she said, laughing to hide her embarrassment. ‘Before I fell over, I mean.’ She brushed her hands across the back of her dress, then twisted round to try and see if the fabric was torn.

  ‘Pushed over, more like,’ Jack said, gently turning her around in a circle. ‘But it doesn’t look like there’s any damage. Do you want to go in and change?’

  ‘Do I need to?’

  ‘Not in my opinion. You look stunning.’

  Flora smiled. Still the same old charmer.

  ‘Wait until you see Celeste,’ she told him. ‘Now, that’s what most people call stunning.’ But after they’d walked a few feet, Flora stopped. ‘Actually, I think I might sneak in the back way now. I’m not sure I’m ready to made a grand entrance yet.’ Or ever, she thought, looking down at her grubby sandals.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Jack said. ‘You never know, you might come across another jealous actress, get yourself shoved into the bushes. Or worse.’

  Flora smiled as they headed back across the lawn. ‘So,’ she said, ‘you’re here to help Celeste with her Spanish?’

  Jack laughed. ‘Is that what she told you? Typical – everything always ends up being about Celeste in the end, doesn’t it?’

  ‘That’s not why you’re here?’

  ‘I’m here for the Infanta Tiara. At least, that’s the official line. There were a few other factors that made this an attractive proposition.’

  Flora had stopped again at the mention of a tiara. ‘Is that what that woman was wearing? That great big diamond thing?’

  ‘Did Celeste not tell you what I do now?’ When Flora shook her head, Jack sighed. ‘I’m guessing she did tell you I’d be around, though. You don’t seem too surprised to see me.’

  ‘She only mentioned it today. I was … I was quite surprised, actually.’

  ‘Well.’ Jack took Flora’s arm and they carried on walking. ‘These days I work for West Mercia CID. I’m here at the request of our mutual friend to advise Alberto on the security of the Infanta Tiara, one of Spain’s national treasures. It’s on loan from a renowned museum, but it’s quite a high profile piece. You saw it just now, sported by the lovely Raquel?’

  But Flora was still processing his earlier information. ‘You’re a policeman?’

  ‘Of course. Don’t you remember? I fast-tracked into CID, I’ve been there five years.’

  ‘Five years?’ She took a surreptitious look at him – the handsome profile, the tidy blond hair, the dinner jacket that fitted so well it was possible to assume it hadn’t been hired for one night only, but was in fact his own. She said, ‘You don’t look like a policeman.’

  He laughed. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment. And you don’t look like a removals man.’

  ‘So Celeste has filled you in on my movements, while keeping yours all to herself,’ Flora said.

  ‘Actually, I’ve been following your movements pretty closely.’

  ‘That sounds ominous.’

  ‘You’ve been in the papers, and in my line of work I notice that kind of stuff.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And I keep in touch with a few of our old friends, like Mark and Sharon. Not Celeste, though. I only heard from her a couple of weeks ago. She mentioned you’d be here for the filming – that was the little carrot she dangled to convince me to help out with security.’

  Flora shrugged off his compliment. ‘Tell me more about this tiara. On loan from a museum, you say?’

  ‘Celeste will no doubt fill you in, but obviously it’s worth a lot of money. It was a condition of the loan that they got some proper advice on keeping it safe.’

  ‘And that’s where you come in,’ Flora said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  They had reached the boot room entrance, and Flora slipped inside while Jack held open the door. Suddenly plunged into darkness, she groped around for a light switch, coming into contact with something fabric-covered and solid instead. A hand brushed hers.

  ‘It is good to see you, Flora. Really good.’

  His voice, oddly dislocated, sounded closer than she’d expected.

  ‘Ha, you can’t see me at all in here,’ she joked, a high-pitched laugh escaping from her throat. She found the wall above the wooden benches and felt for the switch. The boot room sprang to life, with its stone floor and empty racks and coat hooks. Jack was sitting on one of the benches, his legs casually crossed, his hands lightly clasped. If there was any tension in the room, it was clearly only Flora who felt it.

  ‘Teach me some Spanish,’ she said as they made their way towards the babble of noise at the other side of the house. ‘You’re the language expert, and I can’t understand a word of it. For example, what on earth were Alberto and his wife arguing about out there?’

 
‘From what I heard, he didn’t want her to wear the tiara to the gala dinner, and he’s angry at her for flirting with Vincenzo.’

  ‘She called me a whore,’ Flora said. They’d reached the wood-panelled main hall. She smoothed down her dress again, suddenly nervous.

  ‘She’s a hypocrite,’ Jack said. ‘But then, she’s not the only one.’

  Before Flora could decipher this comment, the door to the ballroom swung open and they were propelled inwards by a trio of giggling women.

  ‘I hear he’s a top celebrity in Spain,’ one of them said.

  ‘Just dreamy,’ said another. ‘I’m definitely going to get a selfie with him.’

  Flora looked up at Jack, her eyebrows raised. The din from the room was deafening.

  ‘Groupies,’ he said with a roll of his eyes. ‘This film is the talk of the town.’

  ***

  ‘Flora, come and meet the crew.’

  By the time Celeste bothered to find her, Flora had been propping up the bar for over an hour. Jack had been commandeered by Alberto, and Marshall was enjoying a heated debate with a group of local am-dram aficionados.

  ‘I don’t usually drink,’ Flora told the uninterested barman. She was trying to explain why she’d just slipped off her stool. ‘I’m not drunk, though,’ she said to Celeste. ‘Just a little blurry.’

  Celeste laughed her ‘whatever’ laugh, and grabbed Flora’s hand. They began to push their way through the crowds. ‘Come on. I’ve finally got them all together, but it won’t last long. Oh, for goodness sake – what the hell happened to your nails?’

  ‘She did it,’ Flora said, pointing a grubby finger at the woman in the dazzling tiara.

  ‘Raquel? Why?’

  ‘She called me a whore.’ Flora tapped the side of her nose. ‘Jealous.’

  ‘Of you?’ Celeste laughed again. ‘Oh, Flora. You are so funny. Hey, guys. Hands up who hasn’t met my friend Flora yet?’

  They arrived at a large round table at the edge of the room. It was covered, like all the other tables, in a white cloth and silver cutlery and crystal glassware. The chairs were also clothed in white, but Flora happened to know they were just plain old metal stacking chairs underneath. She’d sneaked a peek earlier.

  Two hands hit the air in answer to Celeste’s question – Raquel’s wasn’t one of them. The older woman appeared subdued, but she also seemed in no hurry to meet Flora’s eye. Flora smiled at Alberto, Jack and Eduardo, then turned her attention to Celeste’s introductions.

  ‘Okay, so this is Vincenzo. We call him Vinny, because Vincenzo is a real mouthful.’

  ‘Así que mi esposa me dice,’ Alberto put in, patting Raquel on the hand and laughing. She snatched her hand away, her mouth set in a hard line.

  ‘What did he say?’ Flora whispered to Celeste.

  Celeste sighed. ‘He said so his wife tells him. Take no notice. So, Vinny is playing an Italian spy in our little film, but he’s also doubling up as bodyguard extraordinaire, keeping his eye on the Infanta.’

  Flora nodded. ‘Jack told me about the tiara. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Yes, he said he’d spoilt my surprise and already had a chat with you.’ Celeste’s eyes travelled from one to the other, then her gaze slipped past Flora’s shoulder. ‘Ah, Marshall. Just the man I’ve been looking for. You’re right on time for the rest of the introductions. It’s about time team Rojo got to know each other.’ She beamed at Marshall, who blinked and looked at Flora.

  ‘Hey,’ he said.

  ‘Having fun?’

  ‘Never better.’

  ‘Okay, listen up.’ Celeste was back in charge. ‘So, you’ve met Vinny. This is Nick Gibson, our talented producer.’ The stocky man on Flora’s left stood and shook her hand, then Marshall’s. He was powerfully built, with almost no neck at all, and had eschewed the usual gala attire of dinner jacket in favour of a grey suit that strained at the shoulders. Celeste waited until he was seated again, then carried on. ‘Okay, so you’ve both met Alberto already. This is Eduardo, our Napoleonic war hero, and Senora Raquel Caro, the grande dame of our little production.’

  Raquel managed a smile for Marshall, who surprised Flora by bending to kiss the older woman’s hand. Flora raised her eyebrows at him, but he didn’t look her way.

  Celeste was introducing Marshall to Jack now, but Flora pulled on the back of her dress. ‘Who is she?’ she said, gesturing with a tilt of her head. The young woman Flora had seen sneaking around earlier had just approached Nick Gibson. She was leaning down, listening to something he said, but there was no mistaking that wild hair.

  ‘Oh, that’s our new wardrobe girl, Gabriella.’ Celeste turned back to Marshall and Jack. She was telling Marshall how they’d all been friends at university. In Flora’s opinion, she was over-egging the best pals thing quite a bit.

  ‘And this,’ Celeste said, slipping between Flora and Marshall and snaking one thin arm around Marshall’s waist, ‘is Flora’s bit of rough. Sorry, I mean right-hand man.’ She clapped her palm to her lips, eyes wide but mischievous. ‘I always get those two phrases mixed up.’

  Marshall smiled and tipped his head. He stepped carefully out of her grip and said, ‘No worries,’ but you could see he was furious. As Flora placed a placatory hand on his tensed arm, she caught sight of Jack’s face. It was no less thunderous than Marshall’s.

  ‘Shall we go and dance?’ Flora said to Marshall, at the exact same moment that Celeste turned to her and said, ‘Flora, I really need to talk to you.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ Marshall said, fixing Celeste with a cold smile. ‘After all, you are her nemesis. Sorry, I meant best friend. I always get those two phrases mixed up.’

  ‘Jeez, he’s highly strung, isn’t he?’ Celeste hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘But you’re a dark horse, Flora Lively. Two men, both hot on you. It’s just like old times, isn’t it?’

  They’d skirted the ballroom to find a quiet spot, and Flora’s head was banging from too much wine and too much loud music. The room was rammed with people: couples swirling past with delighted faces, while those on the periphery laughed too loudly and clapped their hands together and cheered. There were Spanish dancers in costume – kids from the local performing arts college, Celeste said – and a magician who moved from table to table, and a compere with a microphone calling out instructions from the makeshift stage by the bar. It was exhausting.

  ‘Could we go outside?’ Flora said. ‘I can barely breathe in here.’

  ‘Good idea. The fireworks will be starting soon – we can get ourselves a good spot near the front.’

  The fresh air hit Flora like a wave of sickness, and she leaned against the brick wall with her head tipped back.

  ‘God, that man is an ass,’ Celeste said.

  Flora sighed. ‘He’s a bit touchy, that’s all. And you did call him a bit of rough.’

  ‘What? No, not your bloody manager. I’m talking about Alberto. He’s making my life a misery, Flora. And I’m worried about Eduardo, too. If he finds out …’

  Flora refocused on her friend. ‘Finds out what?’

  ‘Nothing. Okay, so Jack tells me you overhead Alberto and Raquel arguing. Such a shame you don’t speak Spanish. You could have told me what they were saying.’

  ‘Jack heard some of it. He said Alberto was annoyed with her for wearing the tiara, and for flirting with Vincenzo.’

  ‘Hmm. But I wonder if that’s all it was.’

  Flora saw Sidney come out into the gardens, carrying a basket covered with a checked cloth. She watched him until he disappeared behind some trees, then she ran a hand over her face.

  ‘I may give up alcohol, you know. I don’t think I have the composition for it.’

  ‘You mean constitution,’ Celeste said automatically. ‘You know, Raquel and Vinny have been doing more than flirting. I saw her on the back of his motorbike yesterday. Trust me, they weren’t going shopping.’

  ‘Really?’ Flora grimaced. It wasn’t just that Raquel was marr
ied; Vincenzo had come across as kind of sleazy. She said this to Celeste, who laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh.

  ‘Any port in a storm. So, what do you think about Jack. He’s changed, hasn’t he?’

  But Flora was thinking about Gabriella. ‘You know, I saw your wardrobe girl earlier. She’s got the room next to you, right? But she was acting a bit weird. She legged it as soon as she saw me.’

  Celeste was staring at Flora. Her face had turned white, or maybe it was just the floodlights that suddenly illuminated the gardens.

  ‘But that’s Alberto’s room. What was she doing in there?’

  ‘She was acting oddly downstairs at lunchtime, too,’ Flora said, watching Celeste closely. ‘It looked like she was hiding from someone.’

  ‘Was she now? Well, isn’t that interesting.’

  Celeste’s attention seemed far away. Flora touched her arm. ‘Celeste, what’s going on? You’re not yourself, it’s like there’s something –’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Celeste shook herself, like a ripple or a tremor going through her thin body. ‘Hey, look – it’s nearly firework time. Come on, Flora. Let’s get a drink before they start.’

  ***

  The fireworks lit up the sky, hanging like green and pink and yellow dandelions before they fizzled away into nothing. Flora let out a delighted sigh at each new explosion and clapped her hands like a child. When the Catherine wheel was lit and everybody cheered, Flora swirled around and grinned at Marshall.

  ‘Isn’t it amazing?’

  ‘Who’d have known you’d be such a cheap date,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be a sour puss. This is fun. This is how the other half live.’

  ‘Honestly, Flora, I don’t think I can stick five days with this lot.’