Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 1)

by Camilla Chafer

Chapter Twelve

  We drove straight to Serena's house from Tanya's apartment, throwing theories into the air and hoping one of them would stick as the scenery turned from faded hope to expensive cars parked in driveways of upscale houses. It wasn't quite Bedford Hills, but it was still very nice.

  "I just don't get the attraction," Lily said, still musing on Dean and Tanya Henderson, as we parked behind Serena's Mercedes and walked up the driveway.

  I couldn’t see the attraction with a number of guys Lily dated, so I figured who was I to understand what allured other people?

  "Who knows?" I said. "Maybe it's one of life's mysteries. Did you bring a gift?"

  "I had it delivered."

  "Good thinking.”

  “You?"

  "Gift vouchers."

  "Smart."

  We arrived a half hour early, in time to watch Serena direct the caterers. They brought a table with them, and set it up across one wall of the living room. They were now setting out platters under her scrutiny.

  My mother had arrived earlier to put up decorations. Pleated paper bells were strung across the room, paper men in blue, pink and cream held hands, along with colorful paper cranes and vases stuffed with creamy roses.

  "Great job, Mom," I said, kissing my mother on the cheek.

  "The paper cranes were your father's idea. Apparently, they’re supposed to be lucky.”

  "I like them."

  "Did you find out about the belly-dancing outfit?"

  "Anne at work says there is a dance shop near the train station that sells them. They have a website too." I still didn’t ask her why. I just hoped to heaven my mother didn’t find out about burlesque.

  A therapist from a day spa that Lily and I liked had set up a small station by a leather armchair. Next to her sat a pile of towels and an open kit of nail polishes. She smiled at us and waved, her enthusiasm probably aided by the fat, short-notice fee we agreed upon that would have made me wince if Serena weren't paying.

  The doorbell rang and Serena waved the caterers out, pointing them towards the kitchen, as she eagerly greeted her guests.

  Two hours later, I was standing in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of me. I had to admit, I'd done a great job pulling off Serena's last minute demands for her baby shower. Her house looked great and the guests had made appropriate noises. Serena even gave me the thumbs-up, which was rare for her. I guess she was looking forward to a baby shower almost as long as to having her own baby.

  I navigated past the cluster of chattering women to the long table, plucking a plate from the crisp white tablecloth and helping myself to pasta salad, smoked salmon blinis and my favorite dough balls. I poured a glass of something fruity from one of the pitchers of virgin cocktails; Serena had gotten her way with the mocktinis. Despite repeated pleas, Serena refused to allow any alcohol being served on the grounds. If she couldn’t have any, neither would anyone else. Even though the table had been picked through, plates still groaned with finger foods and Alessandro's left extra platters in the kitchen.

  The pocket doors to the dining room were opened and the dining table held a pile of onesies and craft materials. Around it, a gaggle of women sat, giggling and painting with non-toxic fabric paints while the remaining women got mini pedicures, manicures and facials. Serena sat in the middle of them all, like a fashionable Buddha; tranquil, resplendent and fully in her element as center of attention. I was happy for her.

  Lily waved me over to the crafts table. While I picked at my plate, I looked over her shoulder at her creation. She had painted, in green letters, “What goes up must come down.”

  "She'll love it," I said, stifling a giggle.

  Lily snorted. She knew there was no way on earth Serena was going to let her darling baby wear anything that these women painted.

  "Why do all the women around Serena look so terrified?" I asked in a low voice.

  "She's telling them her birth plan."

  "Oh God. Not the breech story again?"

  "I dunno. I left right after she said 'natural'. There's nothing natural about a human being coming out of your doodah."

  "They all have kids, right?" I said, catching the word “episiotomy” floating towards me. I didn't want to know what that was. It sounded painful.

  "Yeah, which is why they're looking at her like she's crazy."

  "I'm gonna loiter at the gift table."

  "Good luck," said Lily. "Just remember you're hosting this thing."

  "Only because I heard God is giving out karma points on this one." The gift table held a pile of glossy, ribboned parcels. Lily had sent a basket of tiny, little sleepsuits, so miniature they made my ovaries twang when she pointed them out.

  Serena broke away from the crowd, her exit offset by an audible gasp of relief. She linked her arm through mine in an uncharacteristic gesture of sisterhood. "This is fantastic," she said. "I've had a mineral facial and my toes are pink. At least, I think they are. I can't see them."

  I peeked down. "They are," I confirmed.

  "The girls love the spa theme."

  "Told you so. Everyone loves pampering."

  "And the food's great."

  "And when it's all over, I'll send in the cleaning crew and your house will look perfect again." Well, until the baby is born, but I didn't add that. It was better to let Serena find out the babies just didn't fit into schedules and routines. Like renegades, they did their own thing, as my sisters-in-law were fond of saying. I was fairly sure Serena didn't believe them. I guessed she already had the baby’s schedule plotted in six-minute increments.

  "And Ted is happy with the boys," I reminded her. Daniel texted me a picture of them at the golf club bar. Ted was beet red, a baseball cap reading “Daddy” on backwards. I figured they would be there quite some time and Ted might have to pull a sick day tomorrow.

  "I’m amazed you pulled this off so quickly.” Serena beamed and moved on before I could ask her if that was a compliment. “Did you finish the puzzle you told me about at Alessandro's?"

  "The puzzle?" I tried to remember our conversation.

  "The number code you wanted to solve at work," she reminded me.

  "Oh that. No, I'm still stumped." Really stumped. Despite pages of notes, nothing made sense. There was no discernible pattern or anything that could point to the numbers equating to letters.

  "You tried matching the letters to numbers?"

  "I went through the whole alphabet, moving everything one, two, three, four places up and down. It still came out as a jumble."

  "Hmm, well, either you need to move up or down, higher and lower, or it's not an alphabet encryption."

  "So, it could just be numbers?"

  Serena nodded. "Only without some kind of reference point, you'll never know if you've hit the right sequence."

  "How do I get a reference to work from?"

  "Was there anything with the number set at all? A name? A word?"

  I thought about it. "I don't know."

  "If you brought it over, I could go through it with you. Maybe I'll pick something up."

  Serena probably would spot something, but I suspected I'd already put her in enough danger just telling her about the book, if it were even a clue. Generally a pain-in-the-butt, her pregnancy seemed to have mellowed her a little. Much as I knew her help would probably speed things up, my conscience told me to not to put her in harm's way. It was bad enough someone had left decapitated roses on my car, I couldn't risk anything happening to Serena, too.

  "No, it's okay. You're already so busy."

  "I think it's time for a drink. You want one?"

  "I would love one." A real one. One with a shot of vodka.

  "Get me a fruit punch while you're there." Serena waddled off and plunked herself down in the middle of the gaggle, her bump narrowly missing the nail technician, who lurched to the side just in time.

  I sighed. So much for mellowed sisterly bonding. I was back to my position of being Serena's gofer. I went to get my sist
er a fruit punch, seeing as I couldn't give her the fist variety with my mother watching.