My life, she says. The idea! Margot shook her head. She had a card key to Nancy’s room and used it to let herself inside. Nancy lay where Margot left her snoring. The antidepressant pills sat on the bedside table, and Margot wondered if Nancy had taken one after their embarrassing encounter. Something told her Nancy wouldn’t give up her dream of finding another husband so easily.
* * * *
“Here, Margot.” Belinda thrust a tray of hors d’oeuvres into Margot’s hands. “Walk these around the room, and push the veggie puffs. Too many people are snatching up the crab balls, and I may run out if I’m not careful.”
Margot frowned down at the platter. Once upon a time she and Lou had attended these balls, more Lou than her. Margot had never been very sociable back then, which was a good thing. Maybe she wouldn’t run into old acquaintances. Not that she expected any of them to recognize her. She had never paid much attention to the hired staff, except Judy.
“How am I supposed to get people to try it?” Margot asked. “Should I sample one and say how great it is?”
Belinda appeared scandalized. “No! Never touch the food. I thought you said you worked in the service industry before. Your references—”
“Yes, yes,” Margot interrupted. She didn’t know what had come over her to antagonize the woman so. Maybe because she had taken Belinda into dislike, and Margot didn’t dislike many people she had met. Leaving the caterer sputtering, Margot walked through the crowd of elegantly dressed guests. Overhead gentle classical music played while below men were fine in their black tuxedos, here and there showing a bit of spark with a colorful or patterned cummerbund.
The women were a sight to behold that was altogether more thrilling. Margot flashed back to the old days when she was able to buy name brands, some from stores for the upper crust and some specially made for her by the designer himself. She thought of the slacks she had purchased recently, dark brown polyester ones with a permanent crease down the front.
Here, the ladies wore silks and satins, a few going so far as to add a crinoline slip so that their dresses spread wide before it fell in graceful folds to the floor. Cinderellas, Margot thought with a sigh, and then sobered when a familiar sourpuss met her gaze. She darted behind one of the broader shouldered men, her back crying out for mercy. Estella Rice, a former acquaintance, was in attendance, and she would recognize Margot. No doubt about it.
Margot tiptoed on throbbing feet in the opposite direction. Belinda wouldn’t have a problem if Margot worked the left side of the ballroom as long as her tray was empty when she returned to the kitchen, right?
“Zabrina, I’m so glad to see you accepted my invitation.”
Margot froze. Of all the coincidences, enough was enough!
“Ms. Rice, thank you,” Zabrina answered, and Margot thought there was a certain tightness in her tone. “I have to admit you tempted me, and I shouldn’t have given in.” Zabrina wore a strapless green tulle gown with delicate beading and a beautiful flower off center just below her bust line. She too had added a crinoline slip beneath the gown, and Margot thought the young woman could pass for prom queen she looked so youthful. That sentiment probably wouldn’t be welcomed if she mentioned it, so she kept such thoughts to herself.
“Why ever not?” Estella said to Zabrina’s comment. “Your help has been invaluable with my pet projects, and the way you carry yourself makes me forget that you’re—uh—well, I just wanted to reward you. These events can be so tedious to those of us who have attended them a million times, but you might find it enjoyable.”
Margot peeked around the man she hid behind. Same old Estella, she thought. Rude, condescending, insulting all in one longwinded breath. What she said about the way Zabrina carried herself surprised Margot. Then again, Zabrina seemed pretty aloof. She fit right in with the crowd.
“Where are the crab balls?” an elderly woman asked as she snapped up four veggie puffs.
Margot could almost hear Odds say “you swallowed them all” but she kept her sentiments to herself and forced a smile. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the veggies, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you people are paid enough to give me what I want!”
Margot’s mouth fell open, but a second elderly woman shuffled the first off to find another waiter. Jimmy wandered over with a tray half-covered with glasses of champagne. “You’re not too good at this, are you, Margot?”
She frowned. “I don’t want to hear about my skills from you, Jimmy Barber. What are you doing here?”
Several eyes swiveled their way, and Margot lowered her voice. Jimmy swung away, and she followed him to a corner. To her surprise, his gaze swept the room as if he were casing it. Suspicion rose in Margot.
“Are you planning something illegal?” she demanded.
He reddened. “Why do you keep jumping to that conclusion when it comes to me? I’m just looking out for Zabrina. She was invited here, and took a chance to come, so…”
He trailed off, his color heightening. Margot narrowed her eyes and stepped closer. “Why would she be ‘taking a chance’ to attend a ritzy ball like this, Jimmy?”
He pressed his lips together then smiled brightly, offering one of the guests a glass of champagne. When he tried to move off, Margot grabbed his arm to stop him. Unless he wanted to upturn his tray and cause a scene, he wouldn’t struggle. Margot found she was right when he stilled and grumbled beneath his breath.
She pressed the issue. After all Zabrina was half the reason she was there at the hotel. “I know she doesn’t have a phobia. In fact, I saw her without her gloves some time ago when she also happened to be breaking into Steven Sandifer’s apartment.”
Jimmy’s tray wobbled. “She didn’t tell me that! So you saw it?”
Margot said nothing. She tended to be impulsive sometimes shooting off at the mouth, but not this time. Watching Jimmy closely, she let him draw his own conclusions.
“That birthmark on her hand is obvious. I told her to get it covered with a tattoo, but she wouldn’t, said it was too special. We made up a story about a phobia instead.”
“A birthmark,” Margot repeated, surprised. Actually, she hadn’t noticed the mark, funny enough. Perhaps it had been on the hand she didn’t see that night.
Jimmy scowled at Margot. “Since I didn’t hear it from those nosy neighbors of ours, especially Nancy, I’m assuming you never told anybody about the birthmark. You’d better not say anything to anyone.”
“Are you threatening me, Jimmy?” Margot waggled a finger at him that was just a tad shaky. “Because I’m very good friends with Detective Crandell.”
Jimmy ground his teeth. “I don’t know why he puts up with you and your annoying friend. Not to mention that cat. By the way, is he here?”
Jimmy looked around the floor as if he expected Odds to be mingling among the guests.
“You’re in a fine mood tonight, Jimmy, even for you.” She was aware she had changed the subject and hoped he wouldn’t notice. To her relief, he seemed to settle down a bit, and he scanned the guests until his gaze settled on Zabrina, who was now halfway across the room. Estella Rice was still at her side.
“I’m just worried about her. I have a bad feeling.” Jimmy hesitated and looked at Margot. “Would you do what you can to help her if it comes to it?”
Margot held up her tray. “I’m not anyone important anymore, Jimmy. Not that I ever was. I don’t know what help I could give Zabrina. However, young man, if it will make you feel better, I will certainly do all I can to support her.”
Jimmy appeared to wonder what in the world Margot’s support could do for anyone, but he was the one who asked. What else did he imagine she could offer? After Jimmy dismissed her in a grumpy huff and walked away, Margot made another few circuits around the crowd. Her tray was only half empty when she returned to the kitchen, desperate for a visit to the ladies room.
Margot dropped off the tray and hurried to the hall. After she had located the restroom available to staff, she decided to snea
k off for five minutes to find a quiet spot to sit down. An empty alcove with an armchair had struck her fancy earlier in the day. She wondered if she could find it within a reasonable amount of time. A minute might ease the pain just a touch.
When she rounded a corner, Margot came upon a set of stairs she didn’t remember seeing. She glanced behind her and finding the hall empty, she began to ascend. Her feet complained bitterly. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late to turn back. On the second level, Margot paused to catch her breath and then marveled at the darkened room filled with comfy furniture. The music reached this level but at a reduced volume, just enough to soothe an old lady’s nerves.
“A minute, nothing more,” Margot muttered as she shuffled over to an armchair. She sank into it and moaned softly. Seconds later, she started when Odds jumped onto her lap. “You! How are you always able to find me, and where were you all night?”
Odds yawned and lay down. “Seeing what the humans are plotting and who will get into trouble.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re at the top of the list.”
Margot went still. “Why?”
“Because you’re napping when you’re supposed to be working.”
She scoffed. “A minute. That’s all,” she kept insisting. “If I grab one little minute…”
Margot shut her eyes, and she must have dozed heavily because the next time she stirred, it was to the sound of voices not far away. She blinked and realized she couldn’t see at all. The room was darker. Then common sense returned.
A covering of some type had fallen over her head. She raised a hand to shove it back. Somehow, a blanket that had been folded on the back of the chair was dumped over her head. The deep color of the blanket must have obscured the white of her uniform, casting her into shadows in the corner where she sat. That was the only conclusion Margot could come to as to why Zabrina and the older gentleman she had been speaking with earlier hadn’t noticed Margot when they walked out onto the balcony.
They were arguing again, Zabrina reaching into her tiny purse with one hand. The older gentleman held up both his as if he warned Zabrina away. Margot scrubbed a hand over her eyes and leaned forward in her seat. She didn’t want to move too much lest she alert them of her presence. A crick in her neck made her wince, and her left butt cheek had fallen asleep. Odds had run off again.
Although Margot sat close to Zabrina and the man so she should be able to hear, the room apparently sat above the courtyard where dessert would be served after dinner. The fact that guests’ voices filled the night and the music swelled told Margot she had slept through dinner. Five minutes had turned into possibly an hour or more.
“Oh, dear, I don’t think I’m going to get paid tonight,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if security is looking for me right now to throw me out.”
A sharp breeze blew in to chill Margot to the bone, along with a few drops of rain. Hadn’t she read that a storm was coming in? She willed herself to rise, to leave before she suffered the humiliation of having Belinda find her. First, she needed to collect Odds. Where in heaven’s name had he gotten to?
“I hate you!”
At Zabrina’s sudden shout, Margot forgot about her own problems. She stared in disbelief as Zabrina gave the older gentleman a shove so hard he upended over the top of the balcony railing and hurtled to the ground below. Screams pierced the night as Zabrina spun on her high heels and ran past Margot out the door.
Chapter Three
Margot looked up at the balding officer who had just stepped into the ballroom and frowned in disappointment. She didn’t recognize him, and her mind wandered to speculating about the murder. The officer held up a badge as he raised his voice, and Margot assumed he gave his name. She missed it and instead clutched at the threads of her uniform while gazing in Belinda’s direction. Her boss stood near the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded, frowning at Margot.
Margot sighed in defeat. Why did she keep bumbling her odd jobs? If fate meant her not to work, by all means it needed to provide a healthy income an old woman could live on. Otherwise she would starve. As it was, from month to month, she could hardly cover her bills. Each time she sat at the kitchen table to go over her household accounts, she encouraged herself with the fact that at least she was keeping her aging brain alive by learning new skills. Never mind that she kept finding dead bodies as well. Was it a hint of things to come?
“Maybe it’s a curse.”
Margot moaned and then realized Odds had spoken to her. She scanned the floor all around her feet but didn’t spot the hairball.
“Getting warmer.”
“Odds, I’m sending you to the pound.”
The woman standing next to Margot glared, and Margot coughed. She finally spotted the infuriating animal under the same table where he had scratched Belinda’s leg. His little round head poked out just an instant before withdrawing, and then through the gap, she spotted his glowing eyes.
“You’re breaking health codes,” she whispered.
“What’s that?”
“Never mind.”
The woman in the dress that was cut too low in the front for a woman of her age turned to Margot again. “Are you speaking to me? I think you need to take this situation seriously. A man has lost his life!”
Margot didn’t get the chance to answer. Hotel security arrived as well as other uniformed police. Belinda on spotting the men worked her way through the crowd. When she passed alongside Margot, she latched onto Margot’s arm and tugged her forward.
“Excuse me,” Belinda shouted above the murmurs. “I want this woman removed. She is no longer in my employ, and she shouldn’t be here.”
Margot sputtered. “I beg your pardon. Take your hands off me.”
The murmur from the crowd drowned out individual voices. An argument began, and the middle-aged officer seemed to lose ground when the privileged set started in on him. Meanwhile, Margot struggled to free herself from Belinda’s death grip. That hour’s nap had done nothing for her energy. Perhaps she should go back to dog walking. At least her arms had gotten a good strengthening.
In front of the ballroom entrance, Belinda stopped, and Margot at last got her arm free. Belinda shouted at the security officer nearest her. “Hello? I want her gone. What are you here for?”
The man flushed. “Ma’am, the police are in charge right now. We were backup until the other officers arrived. Now, we’re just ensuring the hotel’s property isn’t damaged anymore than it has been.”
“Hotel property?” Belinda squeaked in outrage.
Voices rose louder, and the jostling began.
“Enough!” The booming voice cut across everyone, silencing them. Authority in his tone stopped all movement in an instant. Margot looked on in fondness as her favorite detective stepped into the room and shrank the other man into invisibility with just his presence.
“Peter,” Margot said.
His gaze left the crowd of refined ladies and gentleman to settle on Margot. “Ms. Garner. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Why are you here?”
Margot directed a sharp look at Belinda who flushed. “I was working.”
“She’s not working, Officer. I want her removed from this hotel.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at Belinda. “That’s not your call, is it, ma’am? And it’s Detective. I’m afraid no one is leaving at the moment.”
Voices rose again.
“Quiet,” Peter repeated. “And someone turn off that music. Violins give me a migraine.”
Peter whispered something to the other officer, and the man disappeared to return a few minutes later with a sheet of papers. Police officers blocked the exit from the ballroom’s doors, and more moved to the courtyard, following Peter as he made his way there. Margot hesitated to follow, but she knew she would at some point have to give her statement. She had left that upper room straight behind Zabrina to hurry down to the courtyard. Along with everyone else, she
had learned that the older gentleman was dead.
“Back inside,” Peter ordered, when the crowd would have followed. He sent in others who hadn’t come in after the murder. Margot wandered to the side of the room, near the courtyard doors but out of sight of the now covered body.
“Margot Gardner.”
Margot stiffened and then squared her shoulders. “Estella, how are you?”
The woman pursed her lips, and her assessing gaze swept over Margot. “I couldn’t imagine you being a guest at this ball, especially after Lou ran off. Oh, dear, I shouldn’t bring up painful subjects. I see by your clothing, you’re working.”
Estella said the word working as if she was saying Margot had the plague. She reached a hand out to Margot’s arm and patted it. Margot seethed.
“Darling, if you need anything,” Estella went on, “be sure to let me know. It can’t be easy making do on your own.”
“No, it’s not,” Margot agreed. “I’m not spending someone else’s money anymore but earning my way. I know you don’t understand anything about that, Estella, dear.”
Estella’s beady eyes snapped with the insult, but Margot was more interested in the murder than Estella and her pot shots at Margot’s downfall.
“Do you happen to know the deceased, Estella?”
Margot saw the hesitation in the woman’s gaze. Estella wanted to know something Margot didn’t, but she also wanted to brag about her knowledge. Such a conundrum. At last, she gave in to what entertained her most—tearing apart others with her mouth.
“He was Brock Cordova, controlling shareholder of a million dollar cosmetics corporation and a real piece of work.” Margot knew what “piece of work” meant but not specifically in this case. What she was curious about more than his business dealings was his connection to Zabrina. Zabrina had lived in Margot’s apartment building in a less than ideal part of New York City for longer than Margot had been there. For all intents and purposes, Zabrina struggled with finances just as much as the rest of the neighbors at3939 Albemarle. How did she know a millionaire?
Odds Ball (Margot and Odds Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 2