Whoever was on the receiving end of the tirade had my sympathy. Brady shrugged. “I’m sorry. Harriet’s obviously in the middle of...”
Harriet Crowder’s voice rose like a siren. “You tell that bitch Anabel if I find her before she fixes this, I’ll split her down the middle and slow roast her on the barbecue. That’ll get the ratings up.”
She didn’t seem to notice us as she stalked out of the office and back the way she’d arrived. She also didn’t glance up the wide staircase, but if she had, Anabel Huffington-Chabot would have done well to dive out the nearest mullioned window.
Doors continued to bang along the corridor.
Josey said, “Wow.”
The door to the office closed softly.
“Oh, boy,” Brady said. “Poor Chelsea. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Who’s Chelsea?” Josey said.
I gave her a nudge. “Never mind, Josey. Thank you, Brady.”
Brady said, “No problem. Chelsea’s Anabel’s EA. She’s a doll, unlike her boss.”
“What’s an EA?” Josey said.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Executive assistant,” Brady said. “In this case, to the world’s chilliest woman. But still better than Harriet, the red devil on steroids.”
I sighed.
“Executive assistant. Oh, boy.” Josey scribbled something in her little notebook.
I was pretty sure I hadn’t heard the end of that.
Brady said, “Um, I don’t think you should bother Chelsea yet. She just had a rough ride.”
Josey answered for me. “Is anybody else around? Marietta or Rafaël?”
I said, “We don’t really need to see anybody else.”
“Sorry I couldn’t help,” Brady said. “The thing is everyone’s terrified of Harriet. If there’s the slightest thing, she goes off the deep end. You just saw a sample of that.”
“Do you mind if we try to find her? Maybe she’ll calm down.”
“Sorry. We’re setting up for the production. I can’t let anyone have unaccompanied access to Wallingford House. We’re having a problem with light-fingered locals, I mean, visitors.”
“No! People stealing?” Josey said, scandalized.
Brady chuckled. “Yes. In fact, lots of local shops and suppliers and even farmers are dropping off wonderful gifts to show goodwill for the show. And half of these goodies are walking right out the back door. We’ve had to put a padlock on the freezer. You could wait here to see if she comes back.”
Josey drew herself up to her full height, five three on a good day. “Miz Silk would never steal anything.” Not like Uncle Mike for sure.
Brady’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sure of that, but Anabel Huffington-Chabot owns this facility, and she’d freeze me to death on the spot if I let you in.”
Josey echoed, “Facility,” slowly savouring the word. I imagined I’d be hearing more of it.
“Can’t I just leave the wallet with someone?” I said, feeling exasperated. “I’m just trying to do a good deed. And move on with my life.”
“I sympathize, but you picked the wrong person. Harriet doesn’t understand the concept of good deeds.”
“Fine, I’ll just mail it to her.”
Brady bit his lip, then said, “Of course, if anything goes wrong and Harriet needed the wallet tonight, she’d think nothing of suing you over it. She tends to win her lawsuits too. But it’s up to you. Perhaps you have time and money to spare.”
“But that’s hardly fair!” I said.
“Fair,” he twittered. “Another foreign concept to the red devil.”
Josey said, “Maybe we better wait.”
I thought I knew her motivation, and it wasn’t Harriet. “A couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt, I suppose. Don’t want to get sued. Do you have a ladies’ room I could use while I’m waiting?”
“Sure. Use the staff one right across there. All the prima donnas appear to be offstage.” He pointed to a door and scurried off down the hallway in the opposite direction from Harriet Crowder.
In this particular case, I was very happy to avoid the impending catfight between Harriet and Anabel. Conflict is not my best thing. And I really couldn’t imagine myself rooting for either one of them.
“I’ll keep an eye out, Miz Silk,” Josey said, obliquely.
“Before I go in, tell me, Josey. Did Brady have a diamond stud in his nose, or did I imagine that?”
She nodded. “Might have been cubic zirconium, but I’m betting it was a diamond. He’s really cute. He had a cool fauxhawk too.”
“What’s a...oh, never mind. I’m better off not knowing.”
As I pushed open the door, I took a deep breath. Since the previous autumn, I’d found ladies’ rooms alarming, and there were good reasons for that. Of course, there was no need to be skittish in a luxurious spot like this.
A person could get used to the subdued lighting, dark minimalist woodwork, toilet stalls with tumbled marble walls and dark-stained louvred doors. I had to admire the stacks of real towels and the delicate dispensers for soap and lotion. There was a lingering scent of fresh paint and new wood, two of my favourite fragrances. A pair of smartly dressed middle-aged women passed me chatting on the way out. One of them stopped to pick up a briefcase from the counter.
A minute after I entered a stall, I heard the click of stilettos outside my door. I thought nothing of it. Until I tried to open the door. I flipped the lock and turned the handle. Nothing happened.
Stuck? Not possible.
I turned the handle both ways. I tried again. I pushed and pushed again, a bit harder each time. Nothing. I tried pounding. Maybe the wood had swelled in the high humidity. I tapped the top, middle and bottom. No luck.
By this time, my heart was thundering. As long as you maintain your dignity, that’s the main thing, I told myself. I hammered on the door. No response. I banged my fists and kicked. Silence.
To hell with dignity. “Let me out!” I hollered at the top of my lungs.
When that didn’t work, I went back to banging. I added kicking to the mix. Suddenly the door flew open, and I tumbled out and landed on my knees on the marble floor. Let’s just say I prefer softer materials.
“Jeez Louise, Miz Silk! I’m really glad I heard you yelling! You could have been in there forever.”
I picked myself up. “Thank you, Josey. The door was stuck.”
“Miz Silk. It wasn’t stuck. It was—”
“Let me wash my hands and get out of here. I feel like a fool. Not able to open the door, how ridiculous is that?”
“No, it was—”
“Let’s go. I don’t even want to talk about it.”
“Miz Silk! You have to listen to me!” Josey’s freckles stood out in sharp relief against her pale face. Her cornflower blue eyes bulged.
“What?”
“You weren’t stuck in there. Someone barred you in.”
“Oh, Josey, don’t try to make me feel better. I know what happened.”
“No, you don’t, Miz Silk, or you wouldn’t be saying that. Just look at this!” She pointed.
I followed her gesture. “What am I supposed to look at?”
“This chair.”
I blinked. It was an attractive chair, but that’s all I could say about it.
“It was blocking your door.”
“But how...”
“Miz Silk, someone put it there.”
“I don’t see how that could be. It’s not very heavy.”
Josey made a soft expression of exasperation. “It was stuck under the knob like this. See?” She grabbed the chair with its thin metal back and tilted it so it fit under the knob.
I stared.
“Now do you believe me? I don’t know how you didn’t see it.”
“I’m sorry, Josey. I was in a panic. Who expects a chair blocking their door? Who would do such a thing?”
She stared back at me. “Well, it has to be one of the ladies who came out of here, doesn’t it?”
“A couple of women left when I first got here. But they were gone before I even went into the stall.”
“I saw them. One of them is a dog walking client of mine. She’s here to talk about a catering contract. She wouldn’t pull a mean trick like that. A blonde lady went in right after you, just as they were coming out. She left before you did. That makes sense.”
“I don’t know. I can’t understand why anyone would do such a thing in the first place.”
“She was out of there like a bat out of hell. I didn’t get a look at her. I was talking to my client about her catering business. Hey, maybe she’s someone you used to know. She could be really mad about something you did in the past.”
“I can’t imagine what.”
“Or she could be just a bit crazy. Or doing something on a dare. Although I didn’t think adults pulled that kind of stunt. Miz Silk? Are you listening? You have a kind of faraway look in your eyes.”
“Hmm? Oh, right. Did you happen to notice what kind of shoes this woman was wearing?”
“Oh, sure. High-heeled sandals, really high. She was used to them, too. She didn’t even teeter. Do you think that’s a skill a person could learn?”
I shook my head to clear the image of Josey striding around in spike heels. “I never have,” I said. “For what that’s worth.”
“I know that, Miz Silk. But I was just wondering how come some people can do it and look so natural.”
“It’s a mystery. What about the other two women? What kind of shoes were they wearing?”
“One had those clunky sandals, and the other one had leather walking shoes. How come you’re asking?”
“I definitely heard the click of high heels on the marble floor just outside the door of my stall. I didn’t think too much about it. Just figured someone was checking to see if it was vacant. Now it’s obvious she must have been pushing the chair up against the door. For whatever crazy reason.”
“She can’t be that far away, Miz Silk. It’s only been a couple of minutes.”
“Do you think it might have been Anabel Huffington-Chabot?”
“Oh, wow, Miz Silk. I really wasn’t paying attention.” Josey radiated guilt. “I was talking to my client and kind of keeping an eye out in case Marietta or Rafaël showed up.”
Obviously Josey had not been quite as impressed with Anabel as I had been. I said, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Never mind, Miz Silk. Let’s go find Harriet.”
“But Brady said we couldn’t have access without... Josey, come back.”
I had no choice but to chase after her down the long corridor where we’d last seen Harriet. No one spotted us. It wasn’t long before we recognized a shrill voice.
Josey managed to get ahead of me, and before I could stop her, she’d pushed open the swinging doors and barged into the huge kitchen area at the rear of the facility. I’d never seen a kitchen like it. For starters, it was forty feet long, with acres of stainless work surface and a twelve burner stove. Cameras had been set up to face the vast granite-topped island that occupied the centre of the room. Here and there were boxes of groceries and supplies. I could see what Brady meant. A large flowering azalea with a Bonne Chance! Good Luck! card sticking out of it sat next to two large green tins of high-end imported extra-virgin olive oil sporting the logo of CeeCeeCuisine. Next to them, I spotted a jumbo jug of my favourite maple syrup from the local sugar bush. Oh yes, and stubby little Harriet had the hapless Brady backed up against the stainless steel double-door refrigerator.
“Wow,” Josey said.
“Hello,” I said.
Harriet was in mid-shriek. “You can’t pull this kind of stunt! We have contractual agreements. We will pull the plug.”
Brady managed to squeak out a plea, “I’m on your side, remember. You have to talk to Anabel. She’s the one making the decisions about the site.”
“If I catch that little tart, I will. And don’t you walk out on me, you quivering little wretch. I will find out what’s going on.”
Brady fled, letting the exterior door swing behind him. Harriet put out her hand to stop it before it smacked her in the face.
“I have your wallet,” I called out, a bit too late.
Josey and I watched in astonishment as Harriet stomped out the back door, climbed into her Lexus SUV and tore off down the driveway, spraying gravel in her wake.
“I guess it wasn’t the best time for handing over the wallet,” Josey said.
“Right. And I suppose we should get out of here before we get accused of pilfering. I think they’re serious,” I said, pointing to the huge walk-in freezer with the padlock on it.
As we headed toward the foyer, Anabel was descending from upstairs. She glanced around quickly, probably keeping an eye out for Harriet. The blonde highlights swirled as she swept out through the front door and down the long stone steps. The only part missing was the full orchestra.
I decided to try to leave the wallet with her assistant, even if she had been given a rough ride by Harriet. None of this had to be my problem. “What was the assistant’s name again, Josey?” I asked. Josey has an uncanny ability to remember people and details.
“Chelsea. And she’s an executive assistant.”
Naturally, Chelsea did not answer when I crossed the foyer again and knocked at the office door. Probably still cowering under the desk, I decided.
My cell phone rang, and I snatched it up.
“Philip?” I said, continuing to walk back down the hill toward the village.
“Oh là là.” My friend Hélène Lamontagne laughed her silvery laugh. “I have been leaving messages at home for you.”
“Haven’t been home most of the day,” I said.
“You are lucky. It will be like an oven at your place now. Why don’t you and Tolstoy come over for a swim?”
That was a tricky one. How can I loathe Jean-Claude and spurn his offers, then go take a dip in his oversize pool? Where’s the dignity in that?
“The thing is, Hélène, Jean-Claude and I had a little dust-up over my property today. I can hardly...”
“Fiona. I am not my husband. I have nothing to do with his real estate business. Nothing. I am your friend, and I am asking you to come to my home and keep me company. How can that be a problem? By the way, do you know where Josée can be found? She might like to join us.”
Josey was looking particularly innocent at the moment, which made me wonder if she’d set up the call.
“I will see the three of you soon,” Hélène said. “And by the way, Jean-Claude will be out this evening. He has an important meeting.”
“It may take a while,” I said. “I found a wallet belonging to one of the En feu! producers, and I need to return it to her.”
“Ah oui. Who is it? I know a lot of those people.”
“Harriet Crowder.”
“Oh là là là.” I imagined Hélène rolling her eyes.
The level of excitement rose higher every hour. In fact, the whole village seemed to be on the verge of frenzy.
“Wow, no wonder people are excited, Miz Silk. It’s Marietta!” She tugged at my hand, pulling me along the sidewalk toward the waterfront.
Marietta turned to us in surprise. A small puff of smoke escaped from her lips. She dropped a cigarette and ground it out. “You caught me. It’s naughty, I know, but...”
Josey blurted out. “This is Miz Fiona Silk, and I am her executive assistant, Josey Thring. We’re big fans of yours.” She snapped open her little notebook with the blue pages, I suppose to drive home the executive assistant point.
Up close, Marietta was a feast for the eyes. Her luxurious mane of chestnut hair did not frizz in the heat and humidity like mine. Her make-up was perfect, the olive skin glowing and flawless. Her full red lips curved in a wickedly conspiratorial smile. The smile went all the way to her dark brown eyes. Every male who walked past us did a double take. I attributed those reactions to Marietta’s dangerous curves and her startling cleavage
.
Josey said, “We’re looking for Harriet Crowder. She’s your producer, isn’t she?”
Marietta bubbled with laughter. “Oh, my poor Harriet. What’s she done now?”
Josey said. “Nothing, except yell at some people. But that’s none of our business. Miz Silk found her wallet. We tried to talk to her at the Wallingford Estate but...”
“Her tail was on fire?” Marietta laughed.
“Something like that,” I said, cutting into the conversation. “She was pretty fierce.”
“Poor little Harriet. She’s upset about a few things today. She’s really all sound and fury, and one of these days she really should learn to pick her battles. Even so, I don’t know why people are so frightened of her. Sticks and stones, right?”
“Perhaps you could give her the wallet,” I suggested, not wanting to test the sticks and stones theory. “Since you know her.”
Marietta put her soft, warm hand on my arm. “I’m just off to meet someone, or I’d love to. But listen, I’m sure I saw Harriet heading toward the parking lot across the street. We’re having a bit of trouble with the air conditioning up at the estate. When she gets too hot, she gets into her SUV to cool off. She doesn’t usually go anywhere, so you should be able to catch up with her, no problem.” As Marietta sashayed off, a perfectly normal-looking man walked straight into a telephone pole as he followed her progress.
“She was real nice, wasn’t she, Miz Silk? And she’s so beautiful. Just like on television.”
“Right. Let’s just get this over with.”
I looked both ways but didn’t see any combinations of red hair and leopard print. Or any tails on fire. Normally someone like Harriet would have stood out in our community. But today, the population had changed.
Josey raised her binoculars. She never leaves home without them. “Oh, Marietta was right. There’s the SUV!”
I saw the spiky red head disappearing into the Café Belle Rive.
Josey said, “I can’t believe someone would drive down that little hill instead of walking. Come on, Miz Silk.”
Sometimes it’s a curse to be polite. “Excuse me,” I said as we pushed through the crowd on the sidewalk. “Pardon me. Coming through. Excuse me.” Talk about a waste of words. I might as well have been invisible. Josey was quite far ahead of me before I finally broke through a knot of chattering young women, but she waited for me to catch up.
Fiona Silk Mysteries 2-Book Bundle Page 4
