Dead Girls Don't Wear Diamonds by Nancy Martin

Author:Nancy Martin [Martin, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780451208866
Amazon: 0451208862
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2003-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

"Can you confirm you were at home all night?"

I felt a red-hot bolt of anger inside again. "Have you confirmed everyone's alibi? Where was Oliver, for example?"

"With me—at least, until one in the morning. Then a Secret Service agent remained outside his bedroom for the rest of the night."

"And you?" I asked. "I suppose you were surrounded by people all night?"

He smiled. And ignored the question. "I'm sorry I've upset you."

"I'm not upset by you. A young woman is dead, and somebody is getting away with killing her—that upsets me."

Jack nodded. "Everyone needs closure. The funeral is being arranged. Maybe that will help. The body will be released soon, so the family has started making plans. It's going to be a private affair, I understand. By invitation. And frankly, Nora," he added, "I'm not sure you'll be on the invitation list."

I realized my mouth was open, and closed it quickly. Then, "Because of my argument with Laura? Or my relationship with Flan?"

"Because of your relationship with someone else."

"Someone else?"

Jack said, "You associate with a person with whom the Coopers would prefer not to be linked in any way. We must keep Oliver above reproach right now."

"What person?" I demanded.

"Big Frankie Abruzzo."

"I've never met the man!"

"But you've been seeing his son."

"I haven't—well, all right, I know Michael, but I never laid eyes on his father."

"His father is gravely ill, I hear."

"Yes, I—I heard that."

"And if he dies?"

"I don't understand what you're driving at."

"If Big Frankie Abruzzo dies, who do you suppose will take over his business?"

"I haven't the slightest—" I stopped myself. "It won't be Michael."

"No?"

"Of course not. They don't speak. Michael has no connection to his father's activities."

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

I wasn't, of course. Not completely certain. I knew Michael had interests in all kinds of peculiar businesses, and I assumed none of them were more ominous than the Marquis de Sod and a string of gas stations.

But it occurred to me that maybe I shouldn't be discussing Michael Abruzzo with a government lawyer or FBI agent or any other guise Jack cared to wrap himself in.

Perhaps Jack saw my thoughts because he shrugged and said benignly, "Well, I'm sure you know what you're talking about."

I cleared my throat and reached for my handbag. "I'm going home now."

Jack reached over and restrained my hand. "If you don't mind my saying so, Nora, you're wandering into some dangerous territory. I'd like to help you stay safe, if I can."

"I can take care of myself."

"Well, good. Shall I take you home?"

I gathered up my handbag composedly. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"Then you'll be allowing the Cooper family to mourn their daughter-in-law?"

I stood up. "I wouldn't dream of intruding on the Coopers."

He walked me to the street. I went home with Reed, making only one stop along the way. I ducked into a quick market to buy some Excedrin and load up on local newspapers. As Reed drove, I prepared to read up on Big Frankie Abruzzo's medical condition.

But first I opened my handbag to stow the Excedrin.

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