by Laura Durham
“We’ve taken up enough of your time, Dr. Harriman.” I stood up and Kate followed, handing the handkerchief back unused. “Please give our condolences to Elizabeth.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her you stopped by when she wakes up.” He led us to the foyer—the scent of lilies still thick in the air—and shook our hands, then closed the door behind us.
“Don’t say anything until we get in the car.” I spoke with a grin fixed on my face in case anyone watching us could read lips.
“I don’t think he can hear us.” Kate crossed the street and unlocked the car. I waited until we got inside and closed the doors.
“Okay, now we can talk.” I fastened my seat belt snugly as Kate rolled the car off the curb. We tapped the bumper of the SUV in front of us. “What do you think of our suspect being the examining doctor?”
“I think you almost blew it. We’re not supposed to know that she may have been poisoned, remember?”
“I know. But why do you think he didn’t mention the rash or the possibility that the fall wasn’t what killed her?”
“Because he’s not supposed to discuss it with anyone, I’d imagine.”
“I guess you’re right.” I put my sunglasses on top of my head to hold back my hair. “Unless he wanted to play down the poisoning angle because he’s the one who poisoned her.”
Kate weaved her way through traffic as we headed toward Chevy Chase, the sound of car horns honking behind us. “I’ll play along. Let’s say he poisoned her. How did he do it?”
I threw out a guess. “Maybe he injected her at the crime scene and pretended to be trying to save her life.”
“Why poison her when, at least as far as we could tell, she was already dead? Anyway, how could he have pulled out a needle with all those cops around, not to mention the other doctors?”
“Okay, so he injected her earlier in the night.” I pressed my foot instinctively against the floor of the car as we approached a yellow light.
“So he just goes up to his ex-wife, jabs her with a needle, and they both go along their merry little ways?” Kate sped up and we burned the red light. “That doesn’t sound like the Clara Pierce I knew and loathed.”
“So the theory has a few holes.” I looked out my window as we passed the National Cathedral. Tour buses were lined up three deep in front, and Kate honked as one tried to merge in front of us. Kate hated when cars tried to get in front of her.
“Listen, Annabelle, I can tell you that Dr. Harriman wasn’t as upset as his son-in-law.”
“What do you mean? The cleavage test?”
Kate nodded. “He peeked.”
“Well for God’s sake, Kate, you have to make an effort not to look. I don’t even know if I passed your cleavage test.”
“I’m guessing that he didn’t like his ex-wife, but Dr. Harriman doesn’t seem like a sinister murderer to me.”
I recognized that tone of voice. “You think he’s attractive, don’t you?” My mouth fell open as I watched Kate begin to blush. “I can’t believe it. You’ve got a crush on one of our suspects.”
“I do not.” Kate’s voice cracked. “I just think he’s polite and distinguished.”
“God help me. I’ve got Mata Hari as a sidekick.” My cell phone began singing, and I retrieved it from the side pocket of my purse. Richard’s number popped up on the display and I answered.
“Tell me you’re having better luck than we are, Richard.”
“Didn’t you get my message?” He sounded exasperated. “I spent half the morning at the Phillips Collection and didn’t get anywhere with that dreadful woman in charge of events. I’m almost grateful she took me off her list of approved caterers.”
“So you couldn’t find any connection to Mrs. Pierce?”
“Not a thing,” Richard said over a lot of background noise. He must have been at the police station. “How’s your detective work going?”
“Not bad if Kate would stop eliminating suspects because they’re too attractive to be murderers.”
“Too bad we don’t have any solid female leads,” Richard responded. “At least that would cut down on the chances of her dating the killer.”
“What’s he saying about me?” Kate grabbed for the phone.
“Just that he finds it highly unlikely you’d base a decision on physical attributes alone,” I said with a straight face.
“Of course she wouldn’t use just physical qualities, Annabelle. Don’t forget money. That’s at least number two on her list.”
I tried not to break into a grin. “You’re right, Richard.”
“What’s he saying now?” Kate sounded suspicious.
“That I was off-base when I implied you judge people by only one criterion.”
“Good.” Kate threw her chin out. “Tell Richard I’m sorry I assumed he was teasing me.”
I tried to keep a straight face. “Did you hear that, Richard?”
“Each delicious word of it.”
“Yes, I know you’re sorry about all the times you teased Kate.”
“Hey, that’s not what I said,” Richard protested.
“It’s about time he apologized for all the cracks he makes about my social life,” Kate insisted.
“He feels awful.” I mouthed the words to Kate while I listened to Richard’s complaints getting louder in my ear.
“That’s fine, Annabelle.” Richard sighed deeply. “Mock me. Make light of your dear friend who’s stuck in this godforsaken police department with nothing to drink but vending-machine coffee.”
“I’m not mocking you.” Fabulous. He’d become a martyr in the span of two hours.
“I think the police are looking at me funny, too.”
“Why?” I asked. “What are you wearing?”
“Nothing flashy. Just my silver paisley jacket with matching flat-front pants.”
Just what I would have chosen for a visit to the police station.
“I’m sure when they finally give me back my equipment and let me reopen my business there’ll be a few jobs for me.” Richard sucked in his breath. “Perhaps I can specialize in catering for pet funerals.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I grabbed the dashboard as Kate made a sharp left into a residential neighborhood.
“You think I’m overreacting to being a prime suspect in a murder case? I feel light-headed, Annabelle. My whole career is flashing before my eyes.”
“Put your head between your knees.”
“I can’t. These pants are too tight.”
“Can you lie down?”
“Have you ever seen the floor at a police station?” Richard’s voice rose an octave.
“Why don’t you go to the bathroom and splash your face with water?” I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see Kate roll through one stop sign after another.
“The bathroom is even worse than the floor. I’m not setting foot in there without a can of scrubbing bubbles and a pair of rubber gloves.”
“I’ve got to go, Richard.” I opened my eyes as the car slowed down, then jerked to a stop. “We’re at Mrs. Pierce’s house.”
“Okay, I’m going to go see if I have some handi-wipes in my car.” With the prospect of something to fuss over, Richard already sounded better. “Call me later.”
I dropped the phone in my purse and let out a long breath.
“I take it things with the police aren’t going well.” Kate parked the car across from the Pierce home with the passenger side halfway in a ditch. The massive stone house already had cars lined up bumper-to-bumper in its circular driveway.
“You know Richard. When is he ever not on his deathbed?” I opened my car door and almost rolled out onto the grass.
“I hope this doesn’t take too long.” Kate extended a leg out of the car and paused. “Do you hear music?”
“It sounds like a party.” I nodded toward the house. “I think it’s coming from inside.”
We watched a woman in a short Pucci dress and stiletto heels step out of a convert
ible she’d parked in the middle of the street. A valet in a blue jacket appeared as if by magic and took her car keys from her. We followed from a distance as she walked to the marble-columned entrance of the house. The front door flew open and high-pitched laughter spilled outside as the woman exchanged air kisses with someone and disappeared inside the house. My eyes widened. “They’ve got valet?”
“Now this is more like it.” Kate adjusted the neckline of her dress to display ample cleavage. “I knew I picked out the perfect dress this morning.”
Chapter 12
I stood inside the expansive marble foyer of the Pierce home and tried to stop myself from gaping. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Kate. For once, you’re dressed appropriately.”
A woman wearing a tight suede pantsuit edged by us, followed by a tall redhead in a black halter dress cut down to her navel. Could anyone ever pass the cleavage test in that dress?
“Wakes sure have changed a lot.” Kate stepped out of the way of one of the many waiters bustling around the house.
“Welcome, ladies.” A statuesque blonde in a pink silk-shantung suit approached us, beaming from ear to ear. From her accent, I placed her firmly below the Mason-Dixon line. “I’m Bev Tripton. Clara’s best friend in the whole wide world.”
So this was the best friend.
“Annabelle and Kate.” I extended my hand and she gave me the tips of her fingers to shake. “We worked with Mrs. Pierce on Elizabeth’s wedding.”
Bev grabbed me by the shoulders. “Wedding Belles, right? Precious name.”
“We don’t mean to interrupt anything.” I noticed a string quartet playing in the corner. “We just stopped by to pay our condolences to Dr. Pierce.”
“Well, that’s just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” Bev pulled me forward by the elbow. “You must join us, girls. We’re celebrating Clara’s life. No sense in getting bogged down in sadness, right?”
“I guess not.” I motioned for Kate to follow as Bev led me into the sunken living room. The house looked totally different from what I remembered. The pale-peach couches had been removed, and people sat at cocktail tables covered in red crushed velvet. A bar stood in the corner, and most of the men were gathered there. I spotted Dr. Pierce with a drink in one hand. He didn’t seem distraught for a man whose wife had just died. The oversized green martini didn’t help his case.
“Clara loved a good party, so I said to myself, ‘Bev, what better way to honor her memory than to have a huge blowout?’”
“I won’t forget it anytime soon,” Kate said quietly enough so only I heard.
“Help yourself to the food stations.” Bev stepped away, still smiling. “But don’t spoil your appetite. The cherries jubilee display gets wheeled out in twenty minutes.”
Kate linked her arm through mine. “So, what’s our strategy? Should we hit the raw bar first or the risotto station?”
“We’re not here to eat, Kate. We’re supposed to be getting information.”
“We just got some valuable information. Her friends hated her even more than we did.”
“This is some party, isn’t it?” I blinked twice as I spotted an ice sculpture of a mermaid rising like Venus out of the center of the raw bar. “Maybe Bev was being sincere and this really is a tribute to . . . Is that a contortionist?”
We craned our necks to see a leotard-clad performer hop through the room with one leg hooked around his neck.
“Did Bev rent the cast of Cirque du Soleil?” Kate took two glasses of champagne from a waiter and handed one to me. “She only sounds sincere because she’s Southern. Believe me, this is no tribute.”
“After overhearing those people at Richard’s party, I knew a lot of people didn’t like her,” I said in shock. “But you’d think that at least her best friend and her husband would be a little more discreet with their feelings.”
“Speaking of being more discreet,” Kate nudged me hard and sloshed a bit of champagne on my sleeve, “look over there.”
I followed Kate’s gaze and watched Bev nuzzle up to Dr. Pierce, then whisper something in his ear. He laughed and slipped an arm low around her waist.
“The husband and the best friend.” I put my glass down on an end table. “So those women at the party were right.”
Kate narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t a new thing. They’re way too comfortable with each other.”
“Are you sure?”
Kate crossed her arms and stared at me.
“Okay, I forgot.” I threw up my hands. “You’re the expert.”
“I wonder how long they’ve been having an affair under Clara’s nose.”
“This must be what the Pierces were fighting about. I find it hard to believe that Mrs. Pierce didn’t put a stop to this.”
“Unless she died before she got the chance.” A look of panic crossed Kate’s face. “Hurry, there’s a mime heading our way.”
“I can’t move.” I pointed to the wall of people blocking the path to the foyer. An opening began to appear. Too late. The mime materialized in front of us and began furtive attempts to free himself from an imaginary box. I hated mimes. Kate elbowed her way through the crowd, and I followed close behind, escaping the silent performer still trapped in his box.
“Dr. Pierce had a pretty strong motive to kill his wife,” Kate said as we made our way to the door.
“It could’ve been Bev. A rich doctor is a good catch for her.”
“If Bev is twisted enough to throw a party like this when her best friend dies, she’s twisted enough to commit murder,” Kate said.
“If we can find out more about the affair between Bev and Dr. Pierce, we’ll be one step closer to figuring out who had motive enough to kill our client.” I ducked as a stilt walker stepped over me. “And I know exactly who can give us the dirt.”
“Who?” Kate paused with one hand on the doorknob.
“Who’s been doing the hair of every rich society lady for the past ten years, including Mrs. Pierce?”
“Why didn’t I think of him first?” Kate exclaimed as she pulled open the front door. “I guess this means we aren’t staying for the cherries jubilee?”
I rolled my eyes and gave Kate a push out the door. “Let’s go talk to Fern.”
Chapter 13
Fern stopped in mid snip as Kate and I walked into his Georgetown salon. “I don’t believe my eyes.”
He must have been finishing up the last client of the day, because the salon was otherwise empty. The narrow shop always reminded me of a palace rather than a beauty parlor. Instead of the usual wall of mirrors, each of the three stylists had an ornate, gold mirror in front of his chair with a towering, carved wooden credenza to hold their supplies. This is what the Cut and Curl at Versailles must have looked like.
“Girls! I wondered how long you would go between appointments.” He rushed over and embraced me, taking a handful of my hair and examining the split ends. He turned to hug Kate and pulled the top of her head to within an inch of his face. “I hope you don’t tell people that I do your hair.”
I smiled at the client, who tapped her watch. “Fern, we’re not here about our hair. We just wanted to talk.”
“Wait just a second.” He returned to his client, analyzed her haircut from all angles, then pulled off her smock with a flourish and tipped her out of his chair. I watched in amazement. Fern’s ability to stay pristine while cutting and coloring has always baffled me. I’ve never seen him with a single hair on him. As usual, he wore his own dark hair smoothed back with not a strand out of place. The only flash of color in his all-black ensemble came from an enormous topaz ring on his right hand.
After the customer had left, Fern patted the seats of two shampoo chairs. “Okay, let’s fix these disasters.”
I brushed away a hair that had landed on my jacket. “Like I said, we’re just here to catch up on our gossip.”
“Besides, we don’t have appointments,” Kate said.
“We’ll make a deal.” Fern p
ulled two fluffy beige towels down from a shelf. “You let me fix your hair and save my reputation, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. After all the brides you’ve sent me, a little trim is nothing.”
I looked at the clock on the wall. Five o’clock. Well, I didn’t have any plans for the evening.
“Fine with me.” I shrugged, taking the black smock he handed me and surrendering my suit jacket. “How about you, Kate?”
She lowered herself into a chair and winked at Fern. “As long as I can be out by seven. Hot date.”
“When I’m done with you, your date won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” Fern gave Kate a knowing look and motioned for me to sit in the chair next to her.
Kate rubbed her hands together. “Work your magic.”
“If you’re good, I’ll tell you a secret to drive your date wild.” Fern winked. Getting some rather questionable advice on men came with all of Fern’s haircuts.
“It’s like gasoline to a flame.” I groaned as I sat down and let Fern push my head back into a black basin. He stood between Kate and me and turned on the water for both of us.
“Too hot?”
I shook my head as he wrapped a towel around my neck and began massaging my scalp with his fingers. “Did you hear what happened to Mrs. Pierce, Fern?”
“Don’t remind me.” He stopped massaging my head and shuddered.
“I’m not sure why you’re upset,” Kate said. “I’m the one who fell on top of her dead body.”
“Who do you think has to do her hair for the funeral?” He turned away from me and started rubbing Kate’s head vigorously.
“You’re kidding.” I sat up halfway in my chair. Fern pushed me back down with one hand.
“Well, I did the woman’s hair for almost ten years. They want to make sure she looks good for the viewing.”
I wiped some water out of my eye. “Is this something you normally do?”
“The older my clients get, the more time I spend at the funeral home working on dead heads.” Fern wasn’t known for sugarcoating his words. “I should open a second salon there.”
