Cassie nodded gratefully. You said you were afraid your assailant was going to kill you.
Did I say that? The woman shifted on the sofa. I was distraught and in a great deal of pain. Im afraid I may have overreacted. But theres no need to involve the police.
I think there is, Cassie insisted. I dont know if either of you are aware of this or not, but a woman was murdered a few blocks from here tonight. And earlier, I saw a strange man lurking in the alley. He could have been your attackeror even the killer.
Oh, dear, Lyle murmured. He gave Cassie a sheepish grin. Im afraid you may have seen me. At her surprised look, he nodded. I was in the alley earlier. As a matter of fact, I saw you standing on your balcony.
Was that why he looked familiar to her? Cassie wondered. They hadnt met until tonight, but perhaps shed caught glimpses of him around the hotel. Do you mind telling me why you were out there?
Not at all. Theres really no mystery to it. Some of the kitchen staff saw someone going through the Dumpsters. I assumed it was Old Joe and decided to go out and have a look for myself.
Old Joe? Cassie asked doubtfully.
Hes harmless. He stays in a shelter on Montrose, but every now and then he drops by here to go through the trash. If Im on duty, I give him a hot meal and a little cash, and he disappears, sometimes for weeks or months at a time. I wanted to head him off tonight before someone called the police. He can be a nuisance, but as I said, hes harmless and Id hate to see him hauled off to jail. Poor old guy isnt in the best of health.
And shed attacked him with her purse, Cassie thought guiltily. Although she didnt have the impression that Old Joe was exactly ancient or fragile. Judging by the way hed sprinted down that alley, he still had a lot of life left in him.
Well, that explains everything, Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard said in satisfaction. Undoubtedly, this Joe person is the man I encountered in the alley.
But you said he attacked you, Cassie reminded her. Id hardly call that harmless.
Perhaps he didnt mean to. I probably frightened the poor creature half to death, and when he tried to flee, he knocked me down.
It was a logical explanation, but Cassies suspicions were aroused. She had her reasons for not wanting to involve the police, but what were Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchards? Or Lyles?
Well, now that everything has been cleared up, I really do have to get back to work. He turned to Cassie. Ill have another look in the alley just to make sure nothing is amiss, and Ill alert the staff to be on the lookout for any strangers lurking about the hotel. If anyone notices anything the least bit out of the ordinary, well notify the proper authorities immediately.
Thank you.
After he left the room, Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard fell back against the cushions and sighed. That man is exhausting.
I should go, too, and let you get some rest. Youve had quite an ordeal tonight, Cassie said. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?
I wouldnt mind a shot of vodka, the woman said candidly.
Shall I call room service for you?
No, theres ice in the bucket and a bottle of Cristal in the fridge. I know Grey Goose is all the rage with you young folks, but Im old-fashioned. I like my champagne French and my vodka Russian.
Cassie listened idly as she filled a glass with ice, poured in a generous amount of vodka, then carried the drink to the injured woman.
Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard took a sip and sighed. Oh, that hits the spot. The Russians do know their vodka. One can almost forgive them for that messy little affair in Cuba back in 62
Cassie didnt have the faintest idea what the woman was talking about. Is there anything else I can get you?
Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard eyed her over the rim of her glass. You dont remember me, do you?
Of course, I do. We met briefly in the lobby a few days ago.
We met before that, the woman said slyly. But I could tell you didnt remember.
Cassies pulse quickened. First Lyle Lester and now Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard. Evidently, her cousin wasnt quite as unknown as shed let on to Cassie. And what was it Celeste had told her on the phone that day? Dont worry about running into friends or acquaintances at the Mirabelle. Most of the people I know could never afford to stay there.
Im sorry, Cassie murmured, not really knowing what else to say.
Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard shrugged off the apology. Oh, dont be. Im not surprised you dont remember. It was a brief encounter. We were on the same elevator a few months ago at the Beverly Hills Hotel. The only reason I recall it so vividly is because your little dog there and Chablis got on so famously. We even joked about it being the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Does that ring a bell?
The woman looked so hopeful that Cassie nodded. Of course. I remember now. You had on the most gorgeous outfit that day. Chanel, wasnt it? It was a stab in the dark, but since Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard always dressed impeccably, Cassie thought it a safe guess.
As a matter of fact, it was. How sweet of you to notice. Mrs. Ambrose-Pritchard took another sip of her vodka. When she glanced up, her eyes glinted with something that might have been mischief. Or malice. It was only later, of course, that I realizedforgive me, I dont mean to be indelicatebut you were meeting Owen that day, werent you?
Cassie gasped. She couldnt help herself. You know Owen Fleming?
The woman smiled. Small world, isnt it? Then her expression sobered. Owen and my late husband were business partners for a number of years until Thomas caught him, literally, with his hand in the till. Turned out, hed embezzled millions from the company, and it took Thomas years to straighten out his finances, not to mention his good reputation. A word to the wise, my dear. She sat up and leaned toward Cassie. Owen Fleming is a man completely without scruples. I dont know how Margo has put up with him all these years, but I expect, in the end, shell have her revenge.
What do you mean? Cassie asked almost fearfully.
You see, Margo is originally from Chicago. Her mothers maiden name was Gambini. Does that mean anything to you?
Sounds Italian, Cassie murmured.
Sicilian. The Gambinis control the most powerful crime syndicate in the Midwest. Margo may have moved away years ago, but she is still Family and the Gambinis always take care of their own. If I were you, dear, Id watch my back. Not that it will do you any good. The Family employs experts for that sort of thing. Wet work, I believe they call it. You wouldnt even hear them coming
* * *
JUST WHAT THE HELL had Sissy gotten her involved in? Cassie wondered nervously as she let herself and Mr. Bogart into the suite. After shed unclipped his leash, he ran over anxiously to check out the food and water situation before heading off to bed.
Cassie wished her own concerns were so basic. Okay, so the man hiding behind the Dumpster and the one below her balcony had been explained by Lyle Lester, but instead of resting easier, now she had to worry about a Mafia hit man coming after her. Her cousin had said nothing about ties to the Gambini crime family. As anxious as Cassie had been to put distance between herself and the Cantrells, she was pretty sure that she would have remembered something like that.
So what was she supposed to do now? Call the whole thing off? Go crawling back to Manville with her tail tucked between her legs? Shove all her dreams back into the Payless shoe box where shed kept them for the past ten years?
She couldnt do it. Shed waited too long to start her new life. Returning to her hometown just wasnt an option, Cassie decided. Besides, the threat of a Mafia hit man paled in comparison to facing Minnie Cantrells wrath. The old woman was a witch in every sense of the word. She claimed to have not only the power to remove warts and divine water, but could also hex, conjure spirits and wreak all manner of havoc on those who crossed her or her kin.
Cassie had never personally witnessed any of the womans powers, nor did she believe in them. But there were plenty in her hometown who did, and once Minnie Cantrell cursed you, you might as well pack it in. You became a pariah in the community, a social out-cast to be shunned and scorned, and if there was anything worse than being stuck in the sticks, it was being stranded there without a single friend to your name.
Cassie had wanted to leave for years. For as long as she could remember, shed dreamed of moving to Houston or New Orleans, settling into her own little place and getting a job at an art gallery where she might someday exhibit her own work. But while her mother had still been alive, Cassie couldnt leave Manville.
Her mother was gone now, after losing a long battle with lung cancer and emphysema, and there was no one left from the Boudreaux clanas ornery a bunch as the Cantrellswho Cassie felt any special affinity for. Celestes call had come at a most opportune time. The art department at Manville High School had suffered major budgetary cuts, which meant that most of Cassies classes had been dropped from the fall schedule. When the school district declined to renew her contract, shed suddenly found herself unemployed, unattached and just itching for an adventure.
Be careful what you wish for, her mother had always warned.
Good advice, Mama, Cassie murmured as she headed off for bed. Shed just slid under the covers when the phone on the nightstand rang. She hesitated to answer at first, then figuring it might be Lyle checking to make sure everything was okay, she picked up the receiver.
Hello? she said carefully.
You are a hard woman to track down, a female voice accused.
Cassie didnt have a clue as to the womans identity, but she tensed, anyway. Who is this?
Who is this? the woman asked incredulously. Its Olivia. Olivia DArby? You know, your roommate? The girl you left holding the bag when you skipped out on the rent?
Roommate? What roommate? Celeste had said nothing about a roommate.
The whole situation was getting more complicated by the minute. And it had sounded so simple at first. Spend a month in a luxury hotel pretending to be her cousin, and in return she would be treated to a new wardrobe, a little cash and ample opportunity to decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
But now, in addition to everything else, a mysterious roommate was calling, and if Cassie said or did anything the least bit suspicious, the whole scheme could unravel. And she had a bad feeling that if that happened, she would be the one left holding the bag.
Well? Arent you even going to ask how I found you? the woman demanded.
Cassies hand gripped the phone. How?
You left your itinerary on the computer. Not too smart for someone in hiding. What if the press or Margo Fleming had somehow gotten hold of it? But dont worry, she rushed to assure Cassie. I deleted everything.
Thanks.
Olivia paused. Whats wrong? You sound kind of strange.
Cassie cleared her throat, then lowered her voice. I think Im coming down with something.
Youre sick? Well, thats the least of your worries. Cassie couldnt detect even a drop of sympathy in the womans voice. Thats why Im calling. Some guys been around asking a lot of questions about you. He talked to some of the neighbors, and he managed to corner me in the parking lot yesterday when I got back from my interview. Since I didnt get the part, I wasnt exactly in a friendly mood. He got an earful, but I dont think it was what he was after. Anyway, I thought youd probably want to know what shes up to now.
She?
Margo Fleming, of course. Who else would have sent that guy? Olivia hesitated again. Are you sure youre okay? You seem kind of out there. Maybe youre taking too much medication or something.
Im fine, Cassie rasped. Thanks for the call.
Wait a minute, damn it. You cant just blow me off like that. I went to all the trouble of tracking you down, the least you can do is give me the juicy details.
Juicy details? What was she talking about?
Oh, I get it. Olivias tone dropped conspiratorially. Hes there, isnt he?
Who?
Oh, for the love ofOwen. Remember him? Your rich, married lover? The man who gave you that huge diamond and promised to make you a star?
Was that resentment Cassie heard in the womans voice?
Since I saw him first, the least you can do is be straight with me.
Definitely resentment, Cassie decided.
Is he there with you or not? Olivia persisted.
Im alone.
I dont believe you. You leave town in the middle of the night, and a few days later, Owen disappears. You cant tell me thats a coincidence.
Cassie had no intention of telling her anything. All she wanted to do was get off the phone, pronto, before she said something to tip her hand. Honestly, what had Celeste been thinking when she left her itinerary on the computer? She must have known her roommate would find it.
Orwas that the point? Was this some sort of test? Maybe Olivia DArby was in on the ruse, and she was calling to make sure that Cassie didnt cave under pressure.
I appreciate the call, but Im not feeling well. Cassie lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper. I really think I should get to bed.
You do that, Olivia said coolly. But if Margo Fleming shows up at your door, dont say I didnt warn you. I shudder to think what that woman is capable of.
Was that a note of glee she detected in the roommates voice now? Cassie wondered.
* * *
WELL, SHED FLUNKED that little test, now hadnt she? Evelyn thought gleefully.
It was just as shed suspected. The woman was a complete fraud.
The whole story about their chance encounter in an elevator at the Beverly Hills Hotel had been a spur-of-the-moment fabrication. There had been no Chanel outfit and certainly no quip about the beginning of a beautiful friendship between Chablis and thatthat horrid little dog she called Mr. Bogart.
As if my princess would ever show the slightest interest in such a creature, Evelyn crooned. Chabliss responding sigh was one of pure bliss. Undoubtedly she was dreaming about Zoë von Hendenburgs shih tzu or William Kendalls Lhasa apso. But a Chihuahua?
Evelyn shuddered. Over her dead body!
Still, the next few days promised to beinteresting. It was possible, of course, that the woman who had been in her suite earlier was, indeed, Celeste Fortune. Perhaps shed pretended to remember the meeting in the elevator to spare Evelyns feelings. After all, it was always awkward when one party remembered a brief encounter that the other did not.