Page 65 of In the Line of Ire

"Theremust be thirty bags," said Lily as the guests instantly brokeranks, reaching for the fabulous purses with outstretchedhands.

"Weshould inspect them all," I whispered, grabbing for the nearestone, a black nubuck leather with tiny handles. I inspected itcarefully, inhaling the scent of the leather and checking thelining and stitching. "It's real," I whispered as I passed it toLily, swapping it for the mustard yellow clutch sheheld.

"Thisone is too; I'm sure of it," whispered Lily.

By thetime we finished inspecting the bags, the situation was punctuatedwith requests to circulate the purses with other guests and breathycomments, saying "how divine" everything was, not to mention fastdiscussions on who should purchase what. I was perplexed. Everysingle purse was authentic.

"I don'tunderstand," I said softly.

"Me neither," said Lily. "Not a single purse is ayou-know-what."

"But I'msure..." I stopped and frowned. Perhaps it didn't matter that thesepurses were real. It was the same as the stores at the mall. Theyallowed the shoppers to examine the real purses and switched themlater. Didn't Charlaine say as much on the phone call I overheard?What I needed to inspect were the bags she sold previously. All atonce, I knew where I could find them.

"Ifanyone asks, I'm in the powder room," I said.

"Okay,"agreed Lily.

Istrolled casually from the main room towards the cloakroom. Thecoat-check girl was gone so I simply opened the door and strolledinside. The cloakroom had two rails on either side, each holding anumber of jackets. Some probably belonged to Charlaine and herfamily but the others definitely belonged to her guests. On theleft side, I spotted my jacket and Lily's on neighboring hangers.Beneath the jackets was a long shelf with the purses nestledside-by-side. I crouched next to the shelf and reached for thepurses, opening and examining them. On the fifth purse, I hit thejackpot. The stitching on the lining was haphazard and the materialwas fraying. The final clincher was the serial number printedinside: it was five digits, not the six digits it should have beenfor that style.

Onhearing the door open, I shoved the purse back on theshelf.

"Oh, hi,we didn't realize anyone was in here," said one of the two womenwho paused in the doorway.

"I justcame to get my credit card," I said, realizing I still knelt on thefloor, "and I dropped my contact lens!"

"I hateit when that happens! I don't suppose it matters if you find it nowsince it's dirty," said the second woman. "At least you got to seethe purses before you lost your eyesight!" They both roared withlaughter and I joined in.

"Do youknow who owns this clutch?" I asked, pointing to the one I justavoided being caught tampering with.

"That'sHilary's," said the second woman, indicating her friend.

"I justlove it," I told her. "Did you buy it from Charlaine?"

"At herlast party. I saw it and just had to have it. With a twenty percentdiscount, it was too good a deal to pass up!" trilledHilary.

"Absolutely," I agreed. "I wish I'd been there. I would havebought one too. I don't think she has any of themtonight."

"This isthe third party I've been to and she always puts out differentpurses. Come back next time and maybe she'll have one." Hilaryreached into a jacket pocket and pulled out a slim, silvercigarette case. "It's a terrible habit, I know, but I must haveone. See you girls back inside!" She flashed me a smile as shewalked out.

"Are youbuying a purse?" I asked the second woman when she pulled out herpurse and extracted a lip gloss and a compact mirror. She tuckedthe purse under her arm and applied the gloss.

"Probably not," she said. "Don't tell Hilary I said this butI don't think Charlaine's purses are the best quality."

I dustedoff my knees as I stood up. "Really? Why is that?"

"I thinkthey must be shop seconds or something that the designer can'tsell. They're just not the best. My advice? Come for the champagneand gossip, but save your money and buy a luxury bagelsewhere."

"Why doyou come to the parties if you don't buy anything?" Iasked.

"They're lots of fun. Charlaine is a generous host and they'regreat for networking. I'm a financial planner. I've already pickedup two clients tonight. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone,"she added, putting her forefinger to her lips. She deposited thelip gloss and compact mirror into her purse and extracted abusiness card, which she handed to me.AmyVos, Financial Planner. "Call me if youever want to look into overhauling your financialindependence."

"Thanks," I said, taking her card and tucking it into mypocket. When Amy left, I quickly pulled out her purse and checkedit. Authentic and beautifully made. Amongst the other dozen purses,I found two fakes. I snapped photos with my cellphone and hurriedout before my luck expired.

Lilywaited by the purses, chatting to some of the guests. I joinedthem, passing the time with small talk until they left. "I'm goingto buy something," I said. "What's the cheapest?"

"I don'tthink that's how you're supposed to make one of thesepurchases."

"I'mnot. It's to prove a point, not to buy a bag." I drew Lily to oneside. "I've found fakes in the cloakroom but we know all these bagsare real. If I'm going to prove Charlaine is switching purses, Ineed to buy one first."

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