Page 20 of Murder By the Millions
Evelyn eyed me, and I waved a dismissive hand, meaning the stage was no longer calling to me.
Tegan said, “Give her some tips, Allie.”
“The most important thing”—I rotated a hand in front of my chest and up to my mouth—“is to breathe. Always breathe.”
The door to the shop flew open, and Finette raced inside. “Help! I can’t breathe!”
CHAPTER5
“And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.”
—Jordan Baker in F. Scott Fitzgerald’sThe Great Gatsby
Idashed to her. “Do you need CPR? The Heimlich?”
“Relax.” Finette guffawed. “I was being melodramatic. I can breathe. Has it ever been a day!” She fanned her face with a pink envelope, her bangles clacking. “‘Always make an entrance,’ my father used to say. ‘People will remember you that way.’”
I glanced at Tegan, who was pulling a face.
Finette swept her long locks over her shoulders. I noticed she’d added attractive highlights, and I wondered when I might need to do the same. At my age, I didn’t have a speck of gray, but my mother said she turned prematurely gray at thirty. Something to look forward to?
“Allie …” Finette frowned. Without asking, she flicked my hair. “You had a lock out of place.”
Peeved by her audacity, I said, “What’s new?” My curly hair had a mind of its own.
“Ahem. What do you think mirrors are for? One must always present one’s best face. You don’t want to look a mess.”
I knew I didn’t look unsightly, but I let her dig slide.
“Anyway, back to me,” Finette continued. “It really has been a whirlwind today, which explains why I’m finding it hard to breathe. A meeting here, a phone call there, talking to loan officers, chatting up citizens. Have you ever been faced with too many challenges all at once?” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she made a beeline for the sales counter.
I followed. So did Tegan.
“I’d like a copy ofThe Great Gatsby,” Finette stated.
“These are all spoken for.” Tegan waved a hand to the stacks of books. “But I’ve placed a new order, which should come tomorrow.”
“Hold a copy for me. May I take a peek at one of these?”
“Feel free.”
“I’m so excited to take part in the festivities.” Finette lifted a book and flipped through the pages. “I’ve read this book many times, as a teen and again in college. I always wanted to own a copy but never got around to it. I love the hardcover version.” She made a swooning sound. “Do I need to sign an agreement for the preorder?”
Tegan smiled. “I trust you.”
“Perfect.” She regarded me again. “Allie, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to ask …” She paused.
“Yes?”
“Would you share the recipe for the mini quiche you served at the neighborhood watch gathering? They were so yummy.”
I squinted. Was that really her question? “Sure,” I replied. I wasn’t proprietary about recipes anyone could find online. Lots of sites provided instructions on how to make broccoli andcheddar quiche. Mine included finely chopped broccoli, cream of chicken soup, and tons of cheese. “I’ll email it to you.”
“Thanks. Also …” She fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ve been meaning to ask why Zach Armstrong didn’t come to the party. Don’t Bramblewood police try to attend all the neighborhood watch parties? Are you two no longer an item?”
Aha. The truth will out.She was interested in him, despite the difference in their ages.
“We’re not dating, if you’re curious. We’re friends.” I was still concerned about the way he’d left last night without saying what was weighing on his mind, but I pushed the niggling feeling aside. “Yes, Zach does come to some of the gatherings. So does his partner. But not all. If they’re too busy solving crime—”
