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

I stopped still at the foot of the bed. ``Popo?''

The sprawled body of Popo Prentiss lay in the bed- clothes, the sheets wildly twisted around her. Popo didn't 22 Nancy Martin move. Her eyes were half-open and unfocused. One of her hands lay upturned and flaccid. The other still gripped her plastic water bottle, now empty and dented. I realized I was standing in a splashed puddle of water.

``No,'' I said, already feeling the floor begin to tilt around me.

I didn't need to touch her to know she was dead. Her stillness was complete. I could see that a plump needlepoint pillow with a Ralph Lauren tag had been abandoned beside her head. A thin line of foamy drool ran from the corner of her mouth. The blond spikes of her hair were damp. She had tried to fight off her killer with the water bottle.

``No,'' I said again. I backed away from the bed and bumped into a display shelf. A rack of brilliant yellow tow- els cascaded around me, and I cried out. I pushed away and rushed for the escalator. I stumbled on the top step, then caught my balance on the railing and clattered down- ward. I must have shouted, but the panic was deafening.

From below, a rush of darkness swirled up to me. Not an electrical blackout this time, but a different kind of dark- ness. I had to find help before I passed out.

At the bottom of the escalator, a figure in a uniform appeared. I made out a bald head and a name tag that swam before my eyes. He reached for me, but I couldn't see his face, only the Haymaker's logo embroidered on his shirt. A security guard.

``Call the police.'' I gasped. ``Popo's been murdered.'' Chapter 3

My best friend, Lexie Paine, greeted me at the front door of her home. ``Sweetie, where have you been? I was ready to send a Saint Bernard to go search for you.''

``Sorry I'm late.'' I stepped inside and reached for the edge of a table to support myself.

Lexie lived in a converted Victorian-style boathouse along the famous Boathouse Row on the Schuylkill River, a picturesque curve of storybook houses that were main- tained by various boating clubs. With her powerful connec- tions and bottomless personal bank account, my friend had managed to score one of the abandoned boathouses and had renovated the second floor into luxurious living quarters.

Behind her, I could hear the buzz and hum of party guests that floated in the air, along with soft jazz and the scent of expensive flowers from Neppo.

Summoning some self-control, I said, ``You, on the other hand, look stunning. Which rapper did you have to mug to get that necklace?''

Slim and sinewy from beating up bulls and bears on Wall Street, Lexie wore a smoky black cashmere ensemble and double strand of serious bling. She toyed with one of the diamonds at her throat. ``I had a good week in the Asia markets. You won't believe how desperate American man- ufacturers are to get themselves into pathetic Chinese vil- lages so they can exploit the workers and make billions. I could spend every day playing matchmaker if I didn't get bored with all the upstanding, two-faced executives from Omaha.''

23 24 Nancy Martin

``Nobody would ever mistake you for two-faced, Lex. You tell it like it is.''

Lexie closed the door and gave me a hug. ``Sorry about the rant. Now, sweetie, what's happened? You look white as Christmas snow. My God, you're shaking!''

``Careful,'' I said. ``I don't want to spoil your party.''

My friend popped her eyes wide and held me away from herself to get a better look at my face. ``What's happened? You didn't discover another dead body, did you?''

``As a matter of fact--''

She cursed prayerfully. ``You're kidding! Who was it? Anybody I know?''

``Popo Prentiss.''

Aghast, Lexie pulled me over to the staircase and we sat down together on the bottom step. I put my bag gently on the floor, and Spike slept on. Hugging my knees, I told Lexie the whole story, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb her guests.

``And you were locked in the loo while it happened?'' Lexie put her arm across my shoulders for comfort. ``My God, Nora, it could have been you!''

``I doubt it,'' I said.

``What do you mean?''

``I've had a couple of hours to think about it. If you were a random killer, would you commit your crime in the mid- dle of a department store shortly after closing? With all those security cameras going?''

``You think someone deliberately murdered Popo? Hell, what am I saying? Of course she was deliberately mur- dered. Half the people in this town despise her!''

``And the other half suck up to her so she'll get the dresses they want for the Christmas galas.'' I gave a hic- cough and realized I was fighting back tears.

Lexie tightened her arm around me. ``You've had a terri- ble shock. I'm so sorry, sweetie.''

``I'm okay. The police came right away. They were very nice to me.''

Her expression reflected genuine concern. ``Did you faint?''

I blanched. ``Yes. Dammit, I wish I could get over that tendency. It makes me feel like such an idiot.''

``You're just empathic. But there's nothing to worry SLAY BELLES 25 about now. Surely the police are looking at video tapes this minute. There must be security cameras all over that store. The killer will be caught in no time.''

``That's the thing. Somebody tampered with the security system.'' I told her about the power outage. ``All the cam- eras went off-line.''

``You mean someone from inside the store shut off the electricity?''

``Not just electricity, but the backup generator for the security systems, too. Someone really knew what they were doing.''

Lexie blew a sigh and shook her head.