Page 70 of Murder By the Millions
Itold Tegan where I was going, and followed Lillian.
Puttin’ on the Glitz was one of my favorite shops. Despite its modest size, with its gold-and-glass décor, plush velvet curtains, and ornate chandelier casting a warm, inviting glow on the racks holding high-end clothing, it exuded luxury and taste and drew customers from as far away as Charlotte and Raleigh. Soft classical music was playing through speakers as we entered. A hint of Shalimar, Lillian’s favorite fragrance, lingered in the air.
“Allie,” she said upon entering, acting as if we were in the middle of a conversation, “I do hope you can manage a dinner party for twenty women. Stella wants to join in the fun. We’re allvolunteers somewhere, and we’d like to honor each other with a special evening.”
“Of course I can. At your place?”
“Where else?” Lillian lived in a modest house her family had given her. It had high ceilings, gorgeous hardwood floors, and lots of windows, through which she could view her carefully cultivated gardens.
We moseyed to the sales counter, where Finette was waiting to pay a clerk struggling to insert two jackets into a garment bag.
“May I attend?” Finette asked. She appeared forlorn and in need of a boost. “I love women get-togethers, and I volunteer. I’m in charge of Friends of the Bramblewood Fire Department.”
“May I come?” Candace Canfield peeked from behind a dressing room curtain to our left. “I donate time at the animal shelter.” She was a soft-spoken woman in her forties with huge, round eyes. She played guitar and sang folk songs for a living. When I’d first heard her perform at a coffeehouse, I’d thought she had to be related to the owner, because she was so shy and reserved. Recently, I’d learned she booked lots of gigs around town, because unobtrusive, unflashy music was in demand.
“Of course.” Lillian laid the spangled dresses on the sales counter. “You may both attend. I’ll send you the deets.”
Giddily, Candace whisked her blond curls over her shoulders and ducked back into the dressing room, but she reemerged immediately. “I almost forgot. Will you all come to a sing-along Thursday night at Blessed Bean? Lots of folks are going to attend. We’re raising money for the library.”
“Sure, I’ll come,” I said. “Wouldn’t miss it. Anything for a worthy cause.”
“Yay,” Candace chimed and disappeared.
“Nice choices, Finette,” Lillian said as she offered to help the clerk fit the jackets into the dress bag.
“Thank you. Both were on sale. You know how much I love a good bargain.”
Lillian said, “Iggie, I’m back.”
Iggie, who was standing atop a riser by a trifold mirror, was admiring the pin-striped suit he’d slipped on. He swiveled toward us and frowned. At me, I feared.
Finette muttered, “Iggie. What a slug.”
Apparently, they hadn’t resolved their differences.
“Iggie,” Lillian continued in full voice, “Allie’s throwing a dinner party for me. I want your wife to come. She will, won’t she? After all, she’s such a do-gooder.”
“She’d be delighted.”
Lillian said in a hushed tone, “Shayna helms a number of art society events, plus she reads to the children at the library. She hasn’t any of her own. It’s a sad story but not mine to tell.” Returning to full voice, she said, “Iggie, come on over here. Let me see what you’ve got on.”
He stepped off the riser and sauntered toward us. His rotund belly pressed at the seams of the suit’s vest. He took off the wool fedora and patted his thinning hair into place. “Shayna can’t eat gluten,” he said to me.
“Not a problem,” I replied.
“Or nuts or sesame, and she doesn’t do well with legumes and shade plants.”
“I’ve got many clients who have rigid diets. I’ll make sure I mark all the items we’ll be serving with the ingredients.” I offered a reassuring smile.
“But that’s not the real reason you’re here, is it?” Iggie’s eyes narrowed.
“It isn’t?” Finette asked.
“Actually”—Lillian gently clasped my elbow—“Allie had a few moments, so I cajoled her into peeking at some of theGatsbycostumes. She wants to be the party hostess with the mostest. Don’t you, Allie?” She gave me a push.
Quick thinking,I thought, seeing as I’d already selected a costume.
“Mind you, most are copies,” Lillian went on, “but there are a few vintage ones.”
