by Sandi Scott
“Sure, Stan.” Leto looked down at Aleta. “I like your eyebrows.”
“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes.
“Okay, ladies.” Stan was all business. “Tell me what you know.”
“We were invited to this bruncheon by Aleta’s good friend, Clara Lu.”
“Georgie, don’t start by lying. Georgie got the invitation. I was invited as an afterthought, and let me just tell you, that is typical Clara Lu.” Aleta was more than a little testy at the memory.
“Okay, I’m sensing a little hostility toward the hostess.” Stan scratched his cheek, and it made that sandpapery sound Georgie liked. She remembered how it would scratch against her cheeks when he’d squeeze her in a hug.
“Aleta and Clara were competitors in high school.” Georgie quickly reminded Stan.
“Aleta, I know you were probably with Georgie through this whole event, but right now she might not be the most reliable alibi. You didn’t do this to get back at old Clara Lu did you?” Stan tried to keep a straight face, but if he wasn’t dealing with a real criminal, his poker face was useless.
“I was in the main room complaining to Georgie the entire time while we were getting our makeovers.” Aleta huffed indignantly.
“She was, but don’t take my word for it. You can ask the half dozen people around us who were becoming more and more annoyed at her snarky comments.” Georgie loyally supported her twin.
“No one heard me but you.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Tell me what happened,” Stan repeated himself.
Georgie and Aleta gave their version of the events leading up to finding Samantha’s body. Although difficult, Aleta managed to stick to the facts and leave her emotions out of it.
“I wonder where Clara is?” Aleta asked. “Probably calling the press to get some cameras over here so she can tell them everything and how it has affected her.
“Yikes!” Stan said.
“Do you see what I have to deal with?” Georgie teased.
“I’m going to go upstairs to that other bathroom and wash off my face. Can I do that, Stan?”
“I’d rather you didn’t, Aleta.”
Her shoulders slumped, but she knew why. Stan didn’t want her roaming around running water and using towels and flushing toilets in case there was a stray fiber or hair that could close the case.
“Come on. The way to forget your troubles is to do something nice for someone else.” Georgie pulled her sister by her sleeve.
“Where are we going?”
“Outside to make sure Mary and Greg are all right.”
Although impossible for Aleta to argue with that mission, in just a matter of seconds she was feeling even more frustrated.
“Georgie? Georgie Kaye? Is that you?” The makeup streaked face of Clara Lu was the first thing that appeared in front of both women as they stepped onto the porch. The red and blue lights were rolling on top of three squad cars. Sounds of sobbing and continual conversations could be heard as the police officers on the scene asked questions and took notes.
Before Georgie could whisk her sister in another direction, Clara had her in a vice of a hug. Clara smelled like the makeup counter at Macy’s Department Store.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Clara blubbered.
“I wish it were a little happier occasion. Aleta and I were really enjoying ourselves before ......well ...”
“Samantha was one of my best representatives. She was a hard worker. Her clients loved her. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.” Clara continued to sob, the black lines of heavy mascara ran down her cheeks.
Georgie was always prepared for emotional emergencies and pulled from her purse a delicate hanky with an embroidered rosebud stitched in the corner.
“I’m sure Samantha was. Knew her—well, Aleta is the one who really knew her since you were all in the debate club together.”
“Is Aleta here? You guys were practically joined at the hip in high school.” Clara laughed through the tears, her face trying to contort from a grimace to a grin. All she did was look even more distressed.
“Yes. Aleta is right ...” Georgie turned around to find Aleta was standing at the far end of the porch holding her phone to her ear. “She’s right over there!”
Georgie could tell by her sister’s face that something else had happened.
“Wasn’t that Stan I saw walk in with the police?” Clara asked.
“Yes.” Georgie turned to face Clara again. “He’s a detective. He handles all homicides this side of the Chicago River.”
“Well, you’ve got to sleep well at night with a homicide detective in the house.”
“Actually, Stan and I are divorced, but it’s okay. We are much better friends than we were husband and wife. I’ve come to realize that I really like my solitude.”
“I can understand that. Being that I am an entrepreneur, I find that living the single life is more advantageous: no one wanting explanations about inconsistent hours, no one demanding to know where you are going and when you’ll be home, and no one delegating where the money goes.”
“Very true,” Georgie replied, “but, I’m lucky. Like I said, I see Stan a couple times a week, and Aleta lives next door to me.”
“Oh, how fun!” Clara gave a silent laugh with her mouth open like a bass.
“It is! When I was getting my cancer treatments, I was happy they were that close. My kids live all over the place. They have their own lives.”
“I’m sorry to hear you had cancer, Georgie. Really I am.” Clara’s eyes began to water again.
“It’s all right, thank you. The treatment worked. I’ve been fine for ages now. It’s all good. In fact, if I see another one of those pink ribbon T-shirts, I think I’ll barf.” Quite true. Georgie was never one to advertise anything except her pet portrait painting. The last thing she wanted was a boxy, oversized, hot pink shirt that said “Find a Cure.” Granted, that was a sentiment that went no further than Aleta. No need to hurt anyone’s feelings.
“I’m so glad you could make it, and that we had a chance to talk,” Clara said. “Did you get a chance to try any of the products?”
Georgie couldn’t bear to tell Clara how horrendous her experience was with the creepy-crawly cosmetics. She opted for a little white lie.
“I didn’t, but Aleta did. She loved the makeup.”
Georgie turned to see Aleta was still on the phone. Georgie waved Aleta over, but she didn’t come. Aleta can’t be that petty. Georgie wondered if her sister had been bitten by the green-eyed monster and was intentionally giving her the cold shoulder.
“Well, I’ll have a talk with her,” Clara said, quickly dabbing her cheeks and removing more than half the black streaks from her cheeks. “She can make a lot of money as one of my representatives.”
“I don’t think Aleta is looking for a job right now.” Georgie tried to cover for her sister. “She still works at the accounting firm that she sold to her daughter. I doubt she’d have time.”
“How about you? You’ve got such beautiful skin, and you are so easy to talk to that I just know you’d be a born saleswoman.”
“I’m sorry, Clara. I have my own pet portrait painting business. I wouldn’t have time either.” Georgie hated telling Clara this now. She felt like she was kicking her while she was down.
“Well, thank you for coming anyway. It was really nice to see you.”
Just then, Aleta joined Georgie and Clara on the porch.
“Georgie, I need to talk to you.”
“Aleta, you remember Clara? You guys were on the debating team in high school.” Georgie arched her eyebrow. It was unlike Aleta to act outwardly rude. Sure, she could cuss and spit like a sailor when she was angry, but that was usually reserved for Georgie’s ears only and never to the offending party.
“I do. Hi, Clara. Your event was wonderful. Georgie? In private?”
“Excuse me, Clara.”
Aleta took Georgie by the hand and walk
ed to the garden away from the crowd of people milling around outside.
“Georgie, it’s Emily.” Aleta sounded like she was ready to burst into tears.
Chapter 6
Very few things would get Georgie to walk away from a suspicious murder. However, trouble with any of the kids, hers or Aleta’s daughter, was at the top of the list. She took her sister’s hand.
“Is Emily all right?”
“She’s having problems at work. One of her assistants had to leave due to some kind of stomach issue. Two others left to handle some things at the new office space that should have been done a couple of days ago. She’s losing her mind. You should have heard her on the phone.”
“The poor thing.”
“Em was crying. She says she can’t find the contract or the lease for the new place, and that she’s misplaced half a dozen files on clients who are expecting updates on their finances by the end of next week.”
“Absolutely, we’ll go. Let me go tell Stan. I don’t want him looking for us.” Georgie started to walk away, but then turned. “Maybe you should go say something to Clara. Be the bigger person, you know?”
Aleta ran her tongue over her top teeth making her lip puff out.
“I didn’t say go pick a fight with her, Rocky. I just said to go say something like thanks and bye.” Georgie shook her head as she walked back toward the mansion.
Squaring her shoulders and pushing her hair back from her face, Aleta headed in Clara’s direction. The woman was standing in the middle of everyone looking down at her phone and hiccupping now that the tears had subsided.
“Clara, I’m sorry.” Aleta looked at her nemesis, but there was no animosity there. “My daughter just called. She needs me. I have to go.”
“Well, I’ve got a lot of work to do here, myself. How I am ever going to explain all this to headquarters, I don’t know.” Clara started to walk away. It was as if she’d fallen into a trance.
“Clara’s in shock,” Aleta said, but part of her thought Clara was just the same rude, inconsiderate person she was in high school. As much as she tried, Aleta couldn’t feel bad for Clara. After all, she wasn’t the one dead on the bathroom floor. “I can’t worry about her right now.”
Just then Georgie stepped out of the house with Stan behind her. She looked at Aleta, and her expression said it all—they weren’t going anywhere.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention!” Stan barked. It never took him long to quiet a group of people. “I know you are all anxious to get home and to your loved ones after all this, but I’ll need all of you to remain on the premises until the officers and I have had a chance to interview you and search your person and cars for the murder weapon.”
Several people mumbled angrily about their constitutional rights and illegal searches, but the majority of people took the news in stride.
“We will make this as quick as possible, but in order for us to do our job you have to do your job. Right now, that is to wait.”
“Georgie,” Aleta whispered.
“I’m sorry, Aleta. I told him about Emily. He said he will get to us first so we can leave, but he hasn’t examined the scene thoroughly yet and needs to do that first.”
Without saying a word, Aleta shifted from one leg to the other.
“You know he will do all he can. After all, it is a dead body, not a facial gone bad.”
“I know. It’s just frustrating.” Aleta pulled out her phone. “I’ll send Emily a text saying that you and I will be there as soon as we can. Hopefully she’ll be able to hang in there.”
Georgie watched as Aleta walked to the garden area again. She decided to meander over to the side of the mansion where the bathroom window was. While she was studying the grounds, Georgie took a mental head count of guests. Looking at the parking lot, some of the cars that were there were obviously now gone.
The police on the scene had stretched the yellow POLICE DO NOT CROSS tape over a wide section of grass outside the bathroom window. The police were slowly creeping along the perimeter shining their flashlights at the ground in an attempt to expose any clue that might be hiding under some blades of grass or imbedded in the dirt. Unfortunately, none of the officers on this side of the house looked familiar to Georgie. They wouldn’t know she was Stan’s ex-wife. Sometimes the officers she knew would give her a few tidbits of information or maybe even a peek at evidence. But, it was too much to ask of the uniformed guys she didn’t know.
Without any further rubbernecking, Georgie headed back toward the front of the mansion where she saw her sister talking on the phone. Aleta looked a little more relaxed and even smiled briefly. Georgie realized she must have phoned Emily to talk her through things.
Before Aleta finished her conversation, Georgie went back inside the mansion. Even though now there were fewer people inside—with only the police officers, EMTs, photographer, Leto, and Stan remaining in the room with the body—it still seemed as though the place was as active as a beehive. There was a lot of talking and walking.
Poor Samantha’s body was in the same spot where it had been when Aleta checked her pulse. The makeup and facial stations were left unattended. There were open jars of moisturizers and makeup, smudged Q-tips, and scattered cotton balls over Peg and Nikki’s work stations. The whole scene looked like it was out of some post-apocalyptic film where everyone disappeared in the middle of what they were doing.
Peg and Nikki were in a corner nervously chattering away as they talked about the people they had encountered today.
Georgie was about to go talk to them when Stan called her over.
“Stan, is there any way you can speed this up? Aleta is so worried about Emily.”
“I’m going as fast as I can. Right now, I’ve got to wait for the photographer to get finished. Meanwhile, Leto is going to start searching purses and bags. Why don’t you and Aleta get in line behind those two ladies who helped organize the thing? Their stuff is first because there is so much.”
“Okay, I’ll go get Aleta.”
“You know, I didn’t tell you how nice you look. I like those pants.”
“Thanks, they hide a world of sins,” Georgie said patting her well-padded hip.
“Speaking of sins, I know this may be inappropriate considering the atmosphere, but what do you say you and I sneak off for a few minutes and hide in one of these bedrooms?” Stan was leering.
“You are saying that with a corpse not ten feet away!” Georgie wrinkled her nose.
“We can pretend I’ve just come back from the front line after fighting those dirty rebels. You can give me a real hero’s welcome.”
“You love the idea of coming back from battle? What is that with you?”
“You didn’t say no.”
Georgie hated that Stan was still so good-looking. He was aging well, despite having a career that had the tendency to eat men up from the inside out. Unlike the way Jet was looking at Aleta, Stan looked at Georgie knowing full well what she looked like without her shimmy. She felt her cheeks getting hot.
“Are you blushing?” Stan whispered.
“Stanley Toon, I’m going to report you to Hank, in Internal Affairs, if you don’t get ahold of yourself.”
“Hank Reed? You’re going to report me to Hank Reed? The guy who has had a crush on you since the first time he saw you at a precinct Christmas party all those years ago? You wouldn’t dare cause such a disruption in what is otherwise a peaceful office.” Stan smirked.
“There is no such thing as peaceful if you are around. I’ll go get Aleta.”
Aleta was marching up the front porch steps just as Georgie was coming out the front door.
“Come on,” Georgie said quietly. “Stan will have the guys look through our stuff, and then we can go.”
“I know he’s just doing his job, but don’t you find this a little annoying? He knows we didn’t have anything to do with it!”
“If Emily hadn’t called, and you didn’t have your mind on her
, would you be concerned with staying?” Georgie soothed.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. Let’s just get this over and get on the road.”
Georgie and Aleta saw Leto going through the huge duffle bags and suitcases that belonged to Peg and Nikki. Clara was also there with her bags of samples and pamphlets waiting for her turn.
“This is going to take all afternoon.” Aleta sighed.
“No, it won’t. Just be patient. Here.” Georgie reached into her purse and pulled out a couple pieces of the chocolate samples she had stowed away. “A little chocolate goes a long way. In fact, just so no one sees how much I took, help me eat the rest of this. I’ll bet by the time we are done, it will be our turn for a search.”
Georgie’s plan worked. With each piece of chocolate, the ladies talked about Emily. They also talked about Samantha. They strolled down memory lane and even chuckled at some of their more embarrassing high school experiences.
“It probably isn’t right to laugh with a dead body so close to us,” Aleta said.
“What are you talking about? When Aunt Joann died, we were in stitches through the whole thing. I was sure the funeral director was going to tell us to leave.”
“Aunt Joann wasn’t nice. She’s lucky all we did was giggle.”
“She wasn’t nice.”
“Remember, when we were kids she’d show us all the toys in her basement, but then she’d never let us go down there and play with them?”
“That’s a sick person. It wasn’t like we wanted to juggle her antiques. We just wanted to play pick-up-sticks for heaven’s sake!” Georgie snapped. Her attitude made Aleta laugh again.
“Georgie? Aleta? Stan said you have an emergency. Give me your bags, and I’ll make it quick,” Leto said, giving the ladies a wink.