Chapter 31
Teri slammed the door to Jennifer's apartment behind her and collapsed against it, Muffy dancing about her knees. "Don't you ever send me off on a covert assignment with that woman again!"
Jennifer stared at Teri, whose dark complexion was flushed. If she recalled correctly, Leigh Ann had volunteered to go to Atlanta to check out Richmond's literary agency and had asked Teri to go with her.
"Where's Leigh Ann?" Jennifer asked suspiciously.
"Parking the car. She'll be up in a minute."
At least she was still alive. But then, of course, Leigh Ann would be. She was small, wily, and remarkably resourceful.
"How'd it go at the agency?" Jennifer asked.
Teri stripped off her jacket and dumped it on a chair, walked out of her shoes, and collapsed on the sofa. Muffy followed her and took up residence at her side, Teri's hand dangling down to absently stroke the dog's ears.
"What's the strongest thing you've got to drink?" Teri asked.
"Wine."
"I'll take it."
Jennifer retrieved the bottle from the refrigerator, filled a juice glass, and brought it back to Teri just as two dainty raps sounded. Muffy let out a bark and scampered, tail wagging, to the door.
"Don't let her in. You'll be sorry if you do," Teri warned.
Jennifer swung open the door. Leigh Ann looked as if she'd stepped out of a wind tunnel, her brunette bangs board straight and hanging in her grim, green eyes. "Don't you ever ask me to go anywhere with that woman again," she choked, pointing an accusing finger in Teri's direction.
Teri flinched. "Me? Me?"
At that moment, Jennifer didn't want to know what happened at Richmond's agency. She wanted to lock the two of them in a closet while she went out, preferably for an ice cream sundae. If one were still alive when she got back, she'd be glad to listen to her version. But then, Jennifer seldom did what she wanted to do.
She pulled Leigh Ann inside and bolted the door. Muffy jumped up and gave Leigh Ann a welcoming hand bath. Dogs. The lucky creatures couldn't understand more than a handful of words, one of which was good.
Leigh Ann petted Muffy's head and then brushed her away. She added her jacket to Teri's and took a deep breath. "I—"
"You," Jennifer interrupted, "over there." She pointed to the upholstered chair at the end of the couch. Leigh Ann obediently sat down.
"This woman—" Teri started.
Jennifer pointed her finger. "Not one word." She spoke with such strength even she herself would have shut up.
Jennifer brought a straight-back chair from the dining area, drew it up close to the coffee table, and sat down. "Obviously things did not go well. Calm down and tell me what happened—and leave out the accusations." She nodded toward Teri.
"After our experience at Channel 14 the other day, I thought Leigh Ann and I should have a plan. I mean, you can't just waltz into an office for no reason. So I decided we'd present ourselves as co-authors who had an appointment with Penney Richmond."
"Co-authors, neither of whom read in the paper, heard on the radio, or watched on TV that Richmond had been murdered," Leigh Ann threw in sarcastically.
"I would bet most people in Georgia don't know who Penney Richmond was, let alone that she's dead," Teri said.
"True, but did you have to tell the receptionist our National Guard unit had been called up, and we were in some made-up island country for the past two weeks? Trapped in a cave-in while spelunking—now that would have been more believable."
"She bought it, didn't she?"
Leigh Ann gave Teri one of those you-idiot looks. "No, she just didn't call us on it. There's a difference. If she'd been a bank teller, she would have been pushing that little red button under the counter as she smiled up at us sweetly."
"Okay, okay," Jennifer intervened. "So you tell the woman you didn't know Penney was dead and that you came to keep your appointment. Then what?"
"Of course no record of any appointment existed because, as you know, we never had one," Leigh Ann said.
"So then I asked to see one of Richmond's associates," Teri explained.
"Only she doesn't have any," Leigh Ann said. "Apparently she ran the last one off over a year ago."
"And then Leigh Ann starts demanding that the agency return our manuscript."
"The one that doesn't exist," Jennifer stated.
"Right," Teri agreed. "She's throwing a real fit—actually, that was quite well done." Teri threw a begrudging look of admiration in Leigh Ann's direction. "She was so demanding, the poor woman never questioned the manuscript's existence. She just pulled up the computer log-in file and started frantically scanning through it, looking for a book by Austin and Bronte."
"You didn't," Jennifer sighed in disbelief.
"I was thinking on my feet," Teri insisted. "The woman didn't blink an eye, did she, Leigh Ann?"
"Not once," Leigh Ann agreed. "We told her we'd submitted it almost a year ago, but we didn't get our self-addressed, stamped postcard back until four months ago."
"Clever. So she was searching the period when Kyle Browning might have submitted something."
"Right," Teri said.
"Sounds great," Jennifer said.
Lee Ann nodded. "Everything was going relatively well up until the fire."
"The fire?" Jennifer asked, almost sorry she'd let the words escape her mouth.
"Teri gives me some screwy hand signal behind the receptionist's back—"
"It was the American Sign Language symbol for print. Thumb and second finger of the right hand drawn together and placed on the open palm of the left hand."
"I've never had a deaf character like some people I know. You might have checked with me to see if I knew sign language."
"Wasn't time. Besides, all those symbols are based on common sense."
"Let's talk about common—"
"No, let's not," Jennifer interrupted. "Teri gives you this indecipherable sign—"
"Don't take sides, Jennifer," Teri cautioned.
Jennifer acknowledged Teri's point with a nod. Mediating this conversation was a suicide mission at best. "Teri gives you this sign and then what?"
"She clutches her stomach, says she's going to be sick, and runs out of the room, leaving me with this poor woman madly looking through screens of entries for something that isn't there. A few seconds later, the fire alarm goes off."
"Teri had gone into the hall and pulled the alarm?" Jennifer asked.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Leigh Ann growled. "She'd gone in the bathroom and started a fire in the trash can. It didn't occur to her just to pull the alarm."
Teri was right. She didn't improvise well.
"People started running up and down the halls, and the receptionist lost it," Leigh Ann said. "I mean the woman was in a state of panic. I found her purse and sent her out the door. I told her not to worry. I'd turn off the computer and follow her out. Of course, instead I printed out the entries, about twenty pages in all, single-spaced."
"Just like I signaled for you to do."
Leigh Ann glared at Teri. "And then the sprinkler system went off."
"Where were you while all this was going on?" Jennifer asked Teri.
"I was getting a little concerned about the fire. Man, those paper towels really go up! So I went back to the bathroom, but like Leigh Ann said, the sprinkler system went off and it drenched me and the trash can—"
Leigh Ann blew her ruined bangs away from her forehead. "Not to mention me and Richmond's office and the sheets coming out of the printer.
"Here," Leigh Ann offered, pulling a crumpled mess of paper from her pants' pocket. "For what it's worth. Here's a list of all the complete manuscripts logged in at Richmond's agency during that eight-month period."
Jennifer took the water-stained sheets from Leigh Ann. "Thanks. You guys are pros. Maxie Malone couldn't have done better herself."
"Now, that's a compliment, wouldn't you say, partner?" Teri threw Leigh Ann
a sheepish look.
"I didn't really mean it when I said you were lucky you didn't drown like a turkey in the rain in the restroom," Leigh Ann confessed.
"And I'm sorry about that crack I made about you throwing yourself in front of that fireman on the way out of the building."
"I slipped, really I did, just like I told you."
"I know you did, even if he was the most gorgeous hunk of a man I've seen in a long time. I saw your foot hit that puddle of water in the lobby."
If there was anything more irritating than hearing two friends fight, it was listening to them trying to make up. Fortunately, the phone rang.
"Hello," Jennifer sang into the receiver, grateful someone, anyone, had taken her away from Teri and Leigh Ann.
Mrs. Walker's voice came over the wire. "I thought you and that nice friend of yours might enjoy a little game, say tomorrow morning, about eleven? We'll meet you at that quaint little café where we first met."
"Game?" Jennifer asked, her mouth going dry. "What kind of game?"
"Bingo, dear. Bingo."
Dying to Get Published Page 31
