I’ll have to work that into the conversation with Ty, somehow.
In the juniors section of the stockroom I pulled a white blouse off a hanger—just why on earth Holt’s carried white blouses, I didn’t know. No one was in the stockroom—it was off-limits to employees today and the inventory team was still working in the store—so I changed into the blouse, put on the vest, which was a little big but oh well, and the bow tie, and got back downstairs in time to grab a tray of salads and head outside.
Wow, look at me go. Making the big decisions, putting them into action—and I didn’t even have my bachelor’s degree yet.
Then I froze at the top of the loading dock stairs.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
There stood Claudia Gray.
Claudia Gray. Gorgeous—and I mean gorgeous—poised, confident, beauty queen, and high fashion model Claudia Gray.
Not only did she know my mother, not only did she know all of my mother’s friends, but she was Ty’s ex-girlfriend.
Oh my God. Now I thought I might throw up.
What was she doing here? Then I saw her talking to some of the models and realized she must be their pageant coach.
I ducked back into the loading dock, nearly causing a pileup among the servers behind me.
I couldn’t go out there. I couldn’t. Claudia looked fabulous, and I had on a caterer’s uniform.
What if Claudia recognized me? What if she told my mother—and my mother’s megabitchy pack of backstabbing friends—that she saw me here? At Holt’s?
I never quite got around to telling Mom that I worked here. I never quite got around to telling Mom a lot of things. She didn’t know about all that crap I had gone through last fall: how I lost that fabulous job; how I ratted out her tennis club’s gorgeous pro; how only I and five of Drew Barrymore’s closest friends ended up with a so-hot-it-smokes red leather Notorious handbag. Mom didn’t even know I was sort-of dating Ty.
“Keep it moving, will you?” the server behind me said as he skirted past me and down the steps.
Oh my God. I had to do something.
I put down the tray and ran to the stockroom. I pulled a blond wig off a naked mannequin, twisted my hair into a knot, and yanked it on. Then I grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the accessories department section, slid them on, reclaimed my tray of salads, and started serving.
Nobody noticed me. I served the entree, the fruit bouquets, Jeanette made endless remarks, Claudia emceed the fashion show, I refilled coffee, tea, and lemonade, and nobody recognized me.
Whew! What a relief. Seemed like the day was coming off pretty well, thanks to yours truly.
The prize raffle was winding down, the caterers were packing up, and I’d had enough. My feet hurt and the mannequin’s wig was making my head itch.
Marilyn hadn’t said a word to me, and I hadn’t heard any of the servers ask about the other girl. Nobody missed her, which miffed me a bit, since I’d single-handedly saved the entire day, but oh well. Marilyn would just mail her paycheck, and nobody would be the wiser.
I’d still have to find a way to work it into a conversation with Ty, though.
I went upstairs to the juniors section of the stockroom and changed back into my sweater. The white blouse was rumpled and didn’t smell quite so fresh, so I shoved it behind the hair dryers; I’d just enter it as a return in the inventory computer when I clocked in and put the wig back later.
I went downstairs hoping Claudia would be gone when I looked outside. Maybe I could hang out with Bella and Sandy for a while, see who’d won a prize at the raffle.
But before I reached the loading dock, I heard screams from inside the store. I ran through the swinging door that opened near the customer service booth and saw a crowd of people outside the women’s restroom. The door stood open and I saw more people inside. Men and women. Everybody looked stunned. Two women were crying and somebody was still screaming.
I pushed my way inside the restroom. The crowd had broken back in a semicircle near the diaper changing station. On the floor of the handicapped stall lay Claudia Gray. Dead.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2008 by Dorothy Howell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 0-7582-4323-5
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
Handbags and Homicide Page 27