Death By Diamonds Part 13

"And to find out what was happening."

"So you could keep me apprised?"

"You, I'm going to keep out of trouble."

I stepped away and huffed.

"Per Eve's request," Werner said, "I'm also supposed to protect you from the worms in the Big Apple."

"Oh, for heaven's sakes, there are worms everywhere, even in Mystic. Haven't we proved that?" But I looked back at the empty stand for the casket and s.h.i.+vered.

"Are you cold? Do you want me to have them turn down the air-conditioning?" Werner suddenly looked like the protective, sensitive guy who'd once saved me from a fire and carried me home in the middle of the night.

Twenty-seven.

It is as if each of us has one t.i.tular robe, and it is that special black dress that is both chic and armor.

-EDNA O'BRIEN, MIRABELLA Restless, in the lush foyer parlor, Broadway and Hollywood greats were milling about waiting for a nod to file in beside the missing coffin. In other words, they wanted to pay their respects to Dominique. Never mind that some of them, not all by any means, didn't know the meaning of the word "respect."

A few I had designed clothes for under Faline's label during my years here in the New York fas.h.i.+on industry. There were several greats, who, under less serious circ.u.mstances, I might be tempted to fan-s...o...b..r over.

Thank the occasion for dignity.

There were also designer mourners, with ruthlessly cold blood, who I already suspected could have murdered Dom.

"Who do you think killed her?" Werner asked, suddenly beside me.

"Have you been reading my mind?"

"Mind reading. I thought that was your territory."

"What?" What the h.e.l.l did he know? I'd definitely never mentioned my visions to Werner. He already thought I was a scatterbrain. I didn't want him to question my sanity.

"You said you were here because Ms. DeLong trusted your intuitive instincts."

Oh. Whew. "Okay, here are my prime suspects so far, because they all had means, motive, and opportunity," I whispered. "At first look, Ursula Uxbridge, understudy, who got Dom's starring role in Diamond Sands. The morning papers said she was a hit last night, better than Dom, the best ever to play the role, sad to say. Though I'm not sure she has the smarts.

"Second suspect, Ian DeLong, ex- husband, ex-dad, brilliant, if greedy, business partner, who will probably inherit the other half of Dom's business interests because of the sheer genius partners.h.i.+p contract that couldn't be broken, even in the divorce.

"Three, Zander Pollock, world-cla.s.s private chef. Dom died from a lethal dose of peanuts, and that allergy is why she hired Pollock in the first place. She couldn't smell a peanut without her throat tightening."

"The chef is too obvious," Werner said.

"Gee, thanks."

"I hate to tell you, but so's the ex and the understudy. Got anybody else?"

"Shudup!"

Werner shook his head and walked away.

I peeked into the waiting area, again. Dominique had friends in high places who thought that being seen at her wake and memorial service would help their careers. Or they might meet someone here who could.

The outfit of the day was the little black dress; the subject of much fas.h.i.+on study, primarily credited to Coco Chanel, and was responsible for my fas.h.i.+on nook, Little Black Dress Lane, a very busy place in my shop.

While Kyle talked to the funeral director about the missing casket, Eve stood on tiptoe behind me, peeking into the luxurious cream, gold, and blue foyer waiting room at the stars gathered there. "Hey, Mad, I see a dress that says, 'Take me, big boy.' "

"What?" I asked, craning my neck. "Mae West is here?"

Eve gave me a raised brow.

I shrugged. "I'm just saying."

She returned to her gawking.

"Eve, that angry woman in the scanty black Oscar de la Renta looks familiar. Do you remember who she is?"

"Angry woman?" Kyle asked. Now behind us, he stood a head taller and had a clearer view. "Oh, that's Galina Lockhart, remember? Mom's primary rival. Galina's dress and stance say she's p.i.s.sed at being kept waiting. She's also jealous that Mom is in here and she's not."

"Huh?" Eve said. "She wants to be dead?"

"No, Galina has always simply wanted to be more important than my mother in any situation, and if she doesn't get her way, move over or she'll mow you down."

Twenty-eight.

The consciousness of being perfectly dressed may bestow a peace such as religion cannot give.

-HERBERT SPENCER As Eve moved away, I saw two people coming through the celebrity throng who warmed my heart. "Dad?" I called. "Aunt Fiona?"

They saw me, headed my way, and I let them in, ignoring the grumbles from the people I closed out.

"Dad," I said, my eyes welling up. "I've never been happier to see anyone in my life."

Kyle turned away, but I caught his arm. "Kyle, I want you to meet my parents."

My father paled.

"I mean, this is my dad, Professor Harry Cutler."

"Professor," Kyle said, shaking his hand. "Your daughter's a marvel."

My dad preened just a bit. "I know."

I hooked my arm through Aunt Fee's. "And this is my aunt Fiona."

"We're not married," my father rushed to say, "or related . . . or anything."

Aunt Fiona elbowed him.

"Aunt Fee is a family friend who was there for us after my mother pa.s.sed. I was ten. She's not one of my parents, strictly speaking."

"Well, Aunt Fee, if I may," Kyle said. "It seems to me that Mad and her siblings were lucky to have had you."

"We still are," I said, "lucky to have her. Aren't we, Dad?"

Dad the Professor cleared his throat. " 'One never can tell from the sidewalk just what the view is to someone on the inside, looking out.' That's a quote by George Ade from Knocking the Neighbors, and it's particularly salient to this disconcerting turn in the conversation."

Aunt Fiona patted his arm. "Well said, dear."

"Oh no. You called him 'dear' in public. Aunt Fee. He may need smelling salts."

My father bl.u.s.tered but not for long. " 'How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!' "

"Shakespeare, we know," Aunt Fiona whispered.

I chuckled, and so did Kyle as he excused himself and walked away.

"Dad? Do you need to lie down?"

"Stop it," he snapped. "Both of you."

I thought we'd better heed his warning. "So, Aunt Fiona," I said hugging her. "Who's watching the shop?"

I could feel her squaring her shoulders beneath my embrace. "Now, we're only staying for the day, so don't worry, but Olga Meyers, and Ethel and Dolly Sweet are at the shop, with Tunney Lague on call in case of an emergency."

Eve hooted. "My mother'll clean and make sure all the customers are happy, and if she can figure out how, she'll feed them, too."

"And Ethel, the cranky octogenarian, will complain," Werner said.

I chuckled. "While our Dolly, allowed at a hundred and three years old, will lounge on the fainting couch and issue orders." But I knew better. Dolly would also flirt with Dante, my hunky ghost and her one-time lover. No secret, there. Dante Underhill, undertaker, left her his fortune with the funeral carriage house, the building she more or less gave to me for my shop-for the price of taxes.

"Sounds like everything back home is in good hands," I said.

Did you see that crowd out there?" my father asked. "They're half naked at a funeral. 'Never in the history of fas.h.i.+on has so little material been raised so high to reveal so much that needs to be covered so badly,' " he quoted. "Cecil Beaton," he said, giving due credit.

"Quite the who's who of celebrity land," Aunt Fiona said. "I feel positively n.o.body."

By then the funeral directors were coming in and herding our little circle into a small anteroom so they could set the casket in place.

This made my heart race. Seeing Dom in her coffin would make it real.

I didn't want it to be real.

My father and Aunt Fiona flanked me, as if to protect me, as we made our way to the small parlor.

"What took so long?" I asked Kyle when he joined us.

"The police were tearing up her coffin lining, looking for the diamonds, and I refused to send her to her eternal reward in torn satin."

"She would never have forgiven you if you tried," I said.

"Right, so I had her put in a fresh coffin. It took a good argument and a lot of time."

"Why did the police wait until she was inside the coffin?"

"They thought the fact that we were burying her so fast with no announcement at all was suspicious-they just didn't get me trying to avoid ten thousand fans parading through-and they figured the placement of her body would indicate which coffin needed to be searched."

"Like she was gonna take the diamonds with her?"

"No," Kyle said. "Like her murderer was going to dig her up later and retrieve the diamonds."

"Gross."

Kyle straightened his tie. "Tell me about it."

Werner rocked on his heels. "I've seen it done. Caught the murderer digging the old lady up. Casket's memento drawer full of stolen jewelry."

Every one of us looked his way.

He simply shrugged.

Finally, when they let us into the room with Dom, the casket was open, temporarily. We alone were being allowed to view the body before they closed it for her wake and memorial service.

Though she did look fine in that strapless black vintage Atelier Versace gown, with just a sprinkling of Pierpont diamonds, no amount of makeup could have fixed her face to her satisfaction, or mine.

"They made her look beautiful," I whispered to Kyle as I took the kneeler and he stood looking down at her. It wasn't true, of course. Her face looked ghastly, even covered in makeup. I wept despite myself.

In the middle of my tears, a sickness swept over me. A miasma of floaty nausea. Oh no, I thought. I can't pa.s.s out now. It would be so embarra.s.sing. I bowed my head, so it would look like I was praying while I let the dizziness pa.s.s.

When my light- headedness abated, I raised my head, but Dominique no longer lay in the casket before me, this one a copper casket, not bronze, had a blue lining, not cream.

Inside, a handsome, mature man with a head of dark hair, a bit white at the temples, wore a Nehru jacket-weird even when it was popular-and a manly diamond as big as my fist.

My heart broke just to look at him.

I wondered how long ago he died, but someone stopped with a memorial program and I saw that it was dated only two weeks before.