Dead Man Waltzing: A Ballroom Dance Mystery by Ella Barrick

Author:Ella Barrick
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Fiction / Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780451237347
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2012-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Rather than drive home, I pointed the Beetle toward D.C. and Lavinia Fremont’s shop. I needed to pick up the dress I was wearing for the Olympic exhibition tomorrow; she’d said it would be ready today. It being Sunday, I found a parking spot without too much trouble and passed a gaggle of well-dressed people emerging from the Baptist church a block from Lavinia’s place. Some of the women wore hats decked with flowers or feathers or grosgrain ribbons, and I wondered idly why virtually no one wore hats anymore.

The shops around Lavinia’s were quiet on a Sunday, and a “closed” sign hung on Lavinia’s door. A sheath wedding gown in a rich cream had replaced the lavender ball gown in the window.

“Why did hats go out of fashion?” I asked Lavinia when she opened the shop’s door to my knock. Her red hair was pulled back into a club of a ponytail, emphasizing the hollows under her eyes and her sharp nose, and she wore a sheer black blouse over a black cami and skinny cropped pants. I thought she looked more tired than she had on Thursday, and I wondered whether grief was causing her to lose sleep.

Her thin brows arched upward, but she said, “Because they take up too much room in the closet. Shoes and purses are bad enough, but hats meant hatboxes for storage, and even two or three of those boxes—pretty as they were—could eat up all your closet shelf space.”

“I never thought of that.”

She nodded. “I still have a couple of my favorites, but they’re in a storage unit. Why do you ask?”

I explained, and she laughed, offering me a cup of herbal tea. I declined, saying I needed to get home, and she at once fetched my dress from the back. Unzipping the plastic cover, she revealed the luminous pink satin sparkling with rhinestones. “Did you want to try it again?”

I shook my head. “No. I trust you.”

Smiling, she rezipped the bag and accepted my credit card. Swiping it, she asked, “How is Maurice? I hope the police are not still bothering him about . . . I saw you both yesterday at the lawyer’s, and I meant to talk to Maurice, but after hearing about Corinne’s bequest, I . . . well . . . I hope Maurice doesn’t think I’m one of those who believe he could possibly . . .”

“I understand completely.” I laid a sympathetic hand on her arm. “And I’m sure Maurice does, too. It’s hard for him, as you can imagine, but he’s got a really good lawyer. I’ve been talking to some people, too, hoping to uncover some information the police might have overlooked.”

“You’re a good friend, Stacy,” Lavinia said. She gave me the receipt to sign. “It would be simply horrible if Maurice, or any innocent person, were convicted of murder.”

“It’s horrible enough just being a suspect,” I said, speaking from experience. “But Maurice is holding up well. I’ll tell him you were asking after him.

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