by Riley Adams
The auctioneer said, “Sold!” on the last item, and Sara hurried over to him, pointing at the covered canvas and talking quickly. Lulu turned to look behind her and saw Tristan, wearing a different dress, walking toward the stage, obviously thinking the auction was over and preparing to thank her guests.
The auctioneer nodded to Sara and walked up to the microphone again. “We’ve got one additional item up for bid, y’all!” He uncovered the painting and his assistant held it up for the guests to see. “Here we have a beautifully rendered depiction of our hostess . . .”
There was a shriek, and Tristan marched up on stage and spoke fiercely to the auctioneer for a minute. The auctioneer quickly said, “Sorry, folks! This painting has been retracted, since it’s already spoken for.”
“Spoken for, my big toe!” said Sara angrily as she walked up to Lulu. “It’s not spoken for if she’s not going to pay me for it!” She looked, thought Lulu, just as furious as Tristan did.
Tristan got off the stage, and Sara stomped over to her. Lulu watched as a red-faced Sara spoke angrily to Tristan, waving her hands around excitedly. Tristan’s hands were on her hips, and her face looked coldly furious. When they noticed people watching them, they strode off inside Tristan’s house, presumably to keep their conversation more private.
Cherry said, “You know, the potential was there for this to be a good party. It’s too bad that Tristan was the hostess because she clearly doesn’t know how to have a good time. The food is icky, and now Sara is all upset because Tristan is acting like such a troll. The people she invited are all on the snobby side. The only possible redeeming factor of the party is the band. The guys are really playing their hearts out,” she said, as the Back Porch Blues Band resumed playing.
“Tristan won’t let them take a break,” said Lulu with a sigh. “And I don’t think the auction counted as much of a break for them. They probably barely had time to make it through that long line for the restroom.”
“So if the band goes on strike and packs up their stuff and leaves, then that’ll sink the party even further.” Cherry rolled her eyes. “Get ready to run for the escape hatch.”
Lulu stood on her toes to look around the backyard. “Actually, I’m not sure where my escape hatch even is. I need to chase Sara down. She was supposed to take Steffi and me back home at eight o’clock. I know she and Tristan went inside for a heart-to-heart, but surely that’s over. I think I’m ready to head back home and crash.”
“She’s probably inside somewhere, cooling off from the argument. Maybe really cooling off because it’s starting to feel kind of humid out here.” Cherry glanced around. “Here comes that Darling Dress Shoppe Dee Dee. Ugh. Sorry, Lulu. I know you like her clothes. That’s my cue to find someone else to talk to. Good luck finding Sara.”
Lulu managed not to laugh as Dee Dee’s eyes widened as she watched Cherry walk away. Apparently, Dee Dee wasn’t impressed with Cherry’s short, poufed, fuchsia and black plaid dress.... She didn’t think she’d ever seen anybody look more perplexed.
“Dee Dee, did you see Sara inside?” Lulu asked.
“I saw her having a big argument with Tristan,” said Dee Dee, penciled-in eyebrows raised. “Don’t know what they were fussing about, but that was the last time I saw her. They probably went into a quiet room to squabble in privacy because people were staring at them.”
“I’m going to find her,” Lulu said. “I just want to make sure she’s doing okay—she was pretty upset over the portrait. Actually, she should forget arguing with Tristan and come out and hand out her business card to everybody—they’re all talking about her art.”
“I’ll join you,” said Dee Dee. “I need to find the powder room anyway.”
As they walked into Tristan’s house, Dee Dee took the opportunity to tell Lulu a little bit about the new shipment of clothes at the dress shop. “I really had you in mind, Lulu, when I bought some of these things at Market. I knew you’d like them.... They look exactly like you. Not like Cherry’s clothes—bleah. Where does that girl shop? Not that she’s a girl anymore, either.... Maybe somebody should remind her of that fact.”
Lulu had a feeling that Dee Dee would dearly love to be the person to remind her. “I’m not really sure. Maybe she gets some of it online? She does like her bright colors, and she looks better in them than most people do.”
“I guess,” said Dee Dee doubtfully. “If you say so.”
Lulu scanned the room. She saw the caterers collecting plates, people drinking wine and carrying paintings to their cars, lots of people standing and talking in groups, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like Sara.
Dee Dee and Lulu passed through the living room and down a short hall toward the bathroom. “Looks like somebody might be in the study,” said Dee Dee, nodding at a cracked door.
“Hmm?” asked Lulu, distractedly.
“I said,” bellowed Dee Dee, “that it looks like somebody might be in the study!”
Lulu gritted her teeth. One of these days, Dee Dee’s assumptions over Lulu’s deafness were really going to push her over the edge.
They walked over to it. “Sara?” called Lulu hesitantly. Maybe Tristan and Sara were still carrying on that argument. “Sara, it’s time for us to head back home . . .”
“Sara!” barked Dee Dee, apparently thinking Lulu’s voice was too soft-spoken to get the job done. Then Dee Dee held her hand up, signaling Lulu to be quiet. “Someone’s in there, arguing,” she said in a stage whisper. And she settled in to listen.
Lulu heard Tristan’s voice. “Steffi, I just can’t believe you showed up here tonight. Isn’t the whole point of estrangement to be apart?”
Steffi’s voice sounded determined but a little wavery. “I thought that maybe after you had some time to think about it . . .”
“I have had some time. And I’ve decided I don’t need your negative energy around,” said Tristan, harshly.
“Negative energy?” Steffi sounded bewildered.
“That’s right. From the time you turned thirteen, you’ve argued with me and challenged me every step of the way. Clearly, you’ll do better somewhere else, since we have so little in common.” The ice in Tristan’s voice shocked Lulu. It was hard to imagine that voice came from a mother talking to her only child.
“Okay, Mother,” Steffi said in a low voice. She gave a short laugh. “Consider yourself de-mothered as of this moment on.”
Lulu and Dee Dee hurried back from the door as it opened and Steffi came out, shoulders slumped.
Steffi looked so deep in her unhappy thoughts that she didn’t even seem to register Dee Dee and Lulu until Lulu said, “Steffi? I was looking for Sara. I guess you haven’t seen her?”
Steffi shook her head, and Lulu put a concerned hand on her arm and said, “Are you all right, sweetie?”
Steffi’s lip trembled, and the next thing Lulu knew, she’d fallen into Lulu’s arms and was crying as if her heart would break.
Lulu led Steffi off down the hall, away from some of the curious looks they were getting. She turned to ask Dee Dee to run and find a tissue for Steffi, but she was nowhere to be seen. Dee Dee must have really hightailed it to the bathroom, thought Lulu. But then, it was one of the first times that evening that there wasn’t a huge line waiting to get in there.
Fifteen minutes later, Steffi seemed all cried out. Lulu blew out a sigh of relief. There wasn’t too much comforting you could do in that kind of situation and up against that kind of cruelty. The child sure had a powerful amount of hurt stored up in her.
“Want to go out and hear Morty, Big Ben, and Buddy play?” she asked Steffi. “They’re really doing an amazing job tonight—it might cheer you up a little bit.”
Steffi gave a tentative smile. “Thanks, Lulu. And thanks for being here for me tonight.”
Lulu was impressed by Buddy, Big Ben, and Morty’s stamina. Lulu had always found the blues offered a salve to hurting hearts and wasn’t surprised to see that Steffi seemed a little more relaxed
as they ate some dessert (which was, fortunately, better than the main course had been) and listened to the band. Cherry joined them and was even able to bring a smile out on Steffi’s face.
There was an ominous rumbling above, and Lulu said, “Mercy! Now we’re in for a storm?” After the evening she’d witnessed so far—horrible food and a vicious argument, Lulu was starting to wonder what was going to happen next—fire and brimstone?
“I don’t remember the forecast calling for a storm,” Steffi said with a frown.
Cherry nodded and pulled her helmet on, knowingly. “They said ‘scattered storms.’ That usually means that they have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen, but they want to make sure they cover all the bases.”
The next clap of thunder was more than a rumble—and it came alarmingly right on top of a vivid strike of lightning that illuminated the yard. Suddenly, sheets of rain came down, and there was a mad scramble to bring the dessert, guests, and various paintings inside. Lulu quickly thought of the Back Porch Blues Band and hurried over to see if she could help move their equipment to a dry place. But they were busily putting down the sides of the tent they were in and holding it down between the three of them and a couple of other people who were helping them battle the wind.
Lulu and Steffi had just walked into the house when the lights went out.
“Oh, now this is really too much,” groaned Cherry. “Having a huge storm blow out of nowhere at a big party is one thing. Losing the electricity is taking things a step too far.”
Everyone at the party seemed to be trying to stand really still so they wouldn’t run into anything. Buddy joined them. “They’ve got the tent and equipment under control out there, so I thought I’d try to help out in here. Especially since I noticed that the houses on either side of us have power. Think maybe having all the speakers and mics and lights tripped the circuit breakers?”
“It’s worth a try to look for the fuse box,” said Lulu. “Or else we could try to light a bunch of candles. I remember there were a ton of candelabras in the dining room and living room.”
“Which was all well and good back when people smoked and actually had lighters on them,” said Buddy in a dry voice. “Nowadays, nobody’s going to have a lighter. Even if there are a couple of smokers here, they wouldn’t have brought cigarettes to a party like this one.”
Lulu said, “Good point. I never thought I’d miss smoking even temporarily, but you could at least always count on a lighter or some matches. Where on earth could Tristan be? I thought she was a better hostess than this. Well, let’s go try to find the fuse box.”
“I’ll check the garage,” said Buddy.
“I’ll peek inside some closets,” said Lulu. “And keep an eye out for our hostess, who should be taking care of this herself!” She turned on her cell-phone’s flashlight and set off for the back of the house.
Lulu had no luck finding the fuse box. She’d had high hopes for a large coat closet near the front door, but after moving around a lot of coats, she found nothing. The other downstairs closets also yielded nothing, nor did the kitchen. Finally she saw a cracked door at the end of the hall. Must be a downstairs master bedroom, thought Lulu. She walked resolutely to the door and knocked hard on it. “Tristan?” she called. “You in there?”
Hearing no answer, she cautiously opened the door. She had no desire to view an encore performance of Tristan’s love life gone wrong. But there was still no answer and no signs of movement as she held her cell phone’s small beam in front of her.
Lulu headed to the master bedroom’s closet and opened the door. The closet was like a room all its own, with gorgeous ball gowns in every color. And there was a shelf of crowns. Actually, Lulu remembered seeing beauty-pageant tiaras in glass boxes in the living room, too, so she guessed that Tristan had had at least one moment of self-realization that displaying twenty crowns might be a little showy.
And there, in the closet, was the fuse box. With relief, Lulu set down the cell phone where the beam would point on the box. Unfortunately, it looked like nothing had been tripped—that maybe the storm had actually knocked down a limb on a power line somewhere and caused the power to go out.
Her relief, though, quickly turned to shock when she backed out of the closet and saw a limp Tristan Pembroke, wearing a pageant tiara, and very clearly dead.
Chapter 5
Pink was with the policemen who quickly arrived on the scene.
“Lulu,” he said, “we’ve got to cure you of this body-discovering habit you’ve fallen into.”
“I tell you what!” said Lulu, shaking her head. “Seems like some weeks I can’t go outside the house without finding some poor soul out cold.”
Pink said, “But the question of the day is, was Tristan Pembroke some poor soul?”
“She couldn’t have been all bad,” said Lulu, but she doubted she was speaking the truth.
“Well, she sure rubbed somebody the wrong way,” said Pink, nodding toward the back of the house.
Lulu shivered. “You can say that again. Getting murdered is bad enough, but then they made fun of her, too, by putting that tiara on her head.” Lulu’s stomach pitched at the memory. “It all seems even wickeder than an ordinary murder—it was so thought out. I guess that brass candlestick near her body must have been the murder weapon.”
Pink said, “That’s something that forensics will have to confirm, but it sure looks that way.”
“Murdering Tristan at a huge party meant that there was lots of noise for a cover,” said Lulu thoughtfully. “And there’s lots of commotion and maybe no one’s paying a whole lot of attention to people coming and going. And then the lights go out, creating all kinds of chaos. Although I can’t imagine for the life of me why someone would want to murder somebody in the dark. What if you missed?”
“I think,” said Pink, rubbing a sandy eyebrow, “that the killer probably killed Tristan before the lights went out.”
Lulu snapped her fingers. “I see. So the power going out was a cover to get the murderer back in with the other guests and escape detection. But then the killer would have to be someone who knew the house well enough to know where the fuse box was.”
“Actually,” said Pink, “we’ve discovered that the lights went out completely naturally. When the storm blew in, there was a car out on the main road that skidded and hit a transformer and knocked out the lights. It looks like even luck was on our killer’s side.”
Lulu nodded. “Especially if the lights going out corresponded to the moment the murderer needed to leave the scene of the crime. Getting out of that room could have been tough because there was a line for the restroom not too far from Tristan’s bedroom.”
“There are definitely some folks I need to talk to,” said Pink, standing up and giving his khaki pants a hitch up. “Like Colleen. She sure was breathing fire about Tristan at Aunt Pat’s. She definitely thought that Tristan was doing Pansy wrong.”
“True,” said Lulu, “but Colleen wasn’t even invited to the party, for that very reason.”
“That may be so,” said Pink smoothly, “but there’s also such a thing as party crashing. So I’m not going to let Miss Colleen completely off the hook.”
Lulu suddenly felt a great longing for her brass bed and comfy quilt. “Pink, hon, is it okay for me to slide out of here now? I think I’m ready to grab Sara and go back home.”
Pink was just telling her it was okay when the man in charge of the case, a wiry, middle-aged detective named Freeman, said quickly, “Absolutely—I have one more question to ask you. Do you have any reason to want Tristan Pembroke dead, Mrs. Taylor?”
He certainly believed in getting to the point. Lulu shook her head. “No, killing people isn’t my way of solving problems, Detective. I didn’t have a whole lot of respect for Tristan, and she did rile up a few people I knew, but that was just her way.”
“We’ll get in touch with you if we have any more questions,” the detective said in a clipped voice. Pink shrug
ged at her. Lulu guessed that as the person who discovered the body, she shouldn’t be surprised by getting a few questions.
“Oh, and where are the rest of the guests now? I know y’all needed to clear everybody out so you could protect whatever evidence was here.”
Pink said, “We ended up blocking off the street and have them all out there. We needed to ask some of them questions and asked all the guests if they saw or heard anything that might help us out. You rode here with Sara, you were saying?”
“I did. And Steffi did, too. I’ll look for her outside, then,” said Lulu, picking up her pocketbook and feeling proud that she had the presence of mind to get it, considering all the events of the evening.
“Actually,” said Detective Freeman quickly, “Sara Taylor is one of the guests we’re most wanting to talk to. When you find her, please send her our way.”
Lulu felt that queasy stomach sensation again. “That doesn’t sound good. What do you want Sara for?”
“I got some witness accounts of an altercation between Sara Taylor and Tristan. I need to ask her a few questions about it,” he said.
Pink’s normally sunny face looked a little worried. “Say, Lulu, were y’all in Sara’s car? That yellow minivan she usually drives?”
“We sure were. Why?”
“Because I didn’t see it out there. And I looked for a few minutes when Detective Freeman said he wanted to talk to Sara.”
Lulu said in a more confident voice than she felt, “Oh pooh. Sara’s not going to have gone off and stranded me somewhere. I’ll go track her down. I’ll be sure to send her your way before we take off for home.”
That ended up being easier said than done. Lulu had no luck finding Sara in the group of party guests who hadn’t gone home yet. Cherry hadn’t seen her. Steffi hadn’t seen her. And Lulu didn’t see hide nor hair of that yellow minivan.
Lulu decided to call Sara. Maybe she’d realized she was running low on gas or something and had gone to fill up while Lulu was being questioned. Lulu pulled out her cell phone and punched in Sara’s number. There was no answer, so Lulu left a message. Now she was worried.