Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

``You bet. For a monsoon, in fact.''

Lexie didn't talk to me about her clients unless they were dead. Still, I knew I was expected to be discreet.

``Maybe Popo had a sugar daddy?'' I asked.

``Who would be attracted to the likes of her? Hell, she was more prickly than I am!''

``I know plenty of men who are attracted to you, babycakes.''

She tossed the napkin down. ``Keep the list to yourself, sweetie. Oh, here's Evie.''

Evie Aquinas pressed a glass of very good pinot noir into my hands and engaged Lexie in a conversation about buy- ing jewelry. Lexie glanced surreptitiously at me and rolled her eyes.

I eased away to sip my wine and make small talk among the other guests. Writing mental notes, I composed my newspaper piece in my mind. Trenton Aquinas had revived a small historical society, and the members were pleased to be invited into his home for their first annual holiday gath- ering. The crowd was mostly university professors. I saw a few friends, met a newcomer or two, and tried to make an early escape once I had a rough draft of a story in my head.

``Nora!'' Evie Aquinas caught me in the foyer. ``Lexie tells me you're interested in Popo Prentiss's death. Are you as shocked as the rest of us?''

Why hadn't I thought of Evie sooner? Of course, she had probably been one of Popo's most frequent clients.

``I'm very shocked,'' I assured Evie.

``She was practically my best friend,'' Evie said quietly. A sparkle of tears welled up in her eyes. ``I could always call her just to talk when I was feeling down. I don't know what I'll do about my spring clothes. Popo planned to order everything for me in the next few weeks.''

``Maybe Darwin can help.''

Evie winced. ``Or maybe I'll try another store. Darwin's not exactly my type. He doesn't have Popo's joie de vivre.''

``Or,'' I suggested, taking a chance, ``her access to the best merchandise?''

Evie laughed awkwardly. ``Oh, you know Popo. She al- ways had a few little treats tucked away. For special clients. She called them her small investments.'' 54 Nancy Martin

``Investments?''

Tears forgotten, Evie started to blush. ``To tell the truth, I suspected she bought the things herself for later resale. Why, last summer she suddenly realized she had some of

` those Hermes ties that were so hard to find months ear- lier--the ones with the sailboats? Just in time for Trenton's birthday. I feel certain she kept them just for me.''

``But you think they came from Popo, not the store? From some kind of special stash?''

``Well, that was my suspicion.'' Evie began to look dis- tressed. ``She hand-delivered personally. Come to think of it, she didn't provide store receipts either. I wanted those ties so badly that I never--''

``Evie, this is important or I wouldn't ask. Do you think Popo might have stolen the ties from the store?''

``Of course not!'' Evie mustered some indignation. ``No, I think she purchased the treats with her own money and simply resold the ties to me later. She really went the extra mile for special clients. We were friends, honestly.''

``Do you know where Popo kept her little treats?'' I asked. ``The things she held back for her pals?''

``Not at the store,'' Evie said slowly. ``Last May she in- vited me to an after-hours sale at her apartment. I was so flattered to be asked. Popo has a condo in Rittenhouse Square. In fact, it might be the same building you lived in before your husband--I mean, before now. She gave us caviar and a tour of the things she wanted to sell. Some of it was out-of-date, but she had a lot of new merchandise, too. I bought a Lettitia McGraw tote.''

So Popo had been hoarding merchandise for years and reselling it to her most trusted clients. Now I needed to find out if the merchandise had been legitimately hers to sell or if she'd stolen from Haymaker's to keep her side business well stocked.

But I wasn't going to learn more from Evie. She pulled herself coolly together, obviously sorry she had told me anything. ``It was so nice to see you again, Nora. Thank you for coming.''

She couldn't get me out the door fast enough.

I decided to hike across town to Rittenhouse Square. If Popo truly lived in my old building, perhaps I could chat SLAY BELLES 55 up the doorman. He might have some insight into Popo's private boutique.

But the weather had gotten ugly, and I made it only a few blocks before stopping to dry off in a coffee shop. I didn't want to ruin my shoes in the slush, so I found a pay phone and got lucky. Well, sort of.

Twenty minutes later, my sister Libby pulled up in front of the coffee shop. I ran out across the sidewalk to the street and popped open the passenger door of her minivan.

``I was picking up a few more gifts! Shopping is such an adrenaline rush. Almost as good as aerobics, don't you think?'' She chattered with even more animation than usual as I climbed in. ``I had a fabulous day. First I went to the King of Prussia mall; then I dashed into the city for another look around Haymaker's, but they're closed. Can you be- lieve it?''

``Are you taking those metabolism herbs again?''

``Of course not! I'm just enjoying the season! Look, I even bought a few things for myself. There was an Eliza- beth Arden special bonus and a Vera Bradley diaper bag discount, so I went crazy.''

I glanced into the backseat and saw a mountain of bags and packages. ``Boy, you're not kidding.''

``You don't have to hurry home, do you? Can you have dinner with me?''

``Don't you have to get home to the baby? Aren't you still nursing?''

``I'm weaning him.