AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Delaine went to a table heaped with accessories and came back with a thick chain-link toggle necklace, charm bracelet, and a pair of hot pink sandals.
“Let’s get this necklace on you,” she said. Then, struggling with the clasp, said, “Doggone, I’m all fumble fingers today.”
“Because you’re still upset about Helene,” Theodosia said.
“Of course I’m still upset.” Delaine suddenly reared back, eyes snapping. “And I’m frightened as well.”
Theodosia was genuinely surprised by Delaine’s outburst. “What are you frightened about?”
Delaine favored Theodosia with her famous death stare, then said, “Because I’m on the Charleston Film Board as well. What if some demented killer decides to come after me? Or what if Josh Morro’s fiancée, that crazy Carly person, killed him because she found out we were romantically involved?!”
“Then who killed Helene?” Theodosia asked.
Delaine thought for a moment. “Maybe Carly got all mixed up and thought Helene was me. I mean, we’re both highly attractive women with impeccable taste in clothing. Maybe when Carly realizes she killed the wrong woman, I’ll have a target on my back!”
“I’m not sure those murders are about you, Delaine.”
“Oh, you think not? Won’t you be surprised when you have to wear a dowdy black dress to my funeral!” Delaine shouted.
“What’s going on?” Bettina asked as she came over to join them. “Aunt Delaine’s planning her own funeral?”
Delaine shoved the toggle necklace into Bettina’s hands and said, “Here, you put this on her. I’ve got more important things to worry about!” And with that she flounced off.
“What’s eating her?” Bettina asked Theodosia as she snapped on the necklace.
“Delaine thinks she’s the next target,” Theodosia said. “She’s afraid she’ll end up murdered.”
“Why on earth would she think that?” Then a slow grin spread across Bettina’s face. “Oh wait, maybe because Delaine thinks absolutely everything is about her?”
Theodosia cocked a finger at Bettina. “Right on, sister.”
* * *
A frizzy-haired woman with a tape measure draped around her neck gave Theodosia a little cardboard sign to carry. It indicated the style and price of the dress as well as the order number. In this case she was wearing flirty sundress by tracy devin for $189.99, number 6270.
“Do I have to carry this?” Theodosia asked the frizzy-haired woman.
She looked surprised. “Of course. It’s informal modeling. How else will our customers know what to order?”
“Right,” Theodosia said. And, “When do I start?”
“How about now?”
Theodosia walked out from behind the curtains into crazy land. The boutique was swarming with well-heeled bejeweled customers who were drinking champagne and zealously digging through racks of clothes as if they were excavating a pyramid at Giza.
Cotton Duck had always been known for its floaty dresses, lighter-than-air cashmere, sumptuous scarves, racks of silk blouses, and blingy jewelry. But today’s spectacle was even more over the top. And Theodosia felt like the proverbial lab rat as she pushed her way through a maze of clothing racks packed with evening gowns, silk jackets, shimmery slacks, sporty blouses, teeny-tiny bikinis, designer jeans, and beach cover-ups.
“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Bettina was suddenly at Theodosia’s elbow, giving her a sympathetic look.
“I don’t know how I got roped into this,” Theodosia said through a clenched-teeth smile.
“You’re here because Delaine always gets her way. That’s why I’m still here working for a pittance when I already have my degree in fashion merchandising.”
“But now you’ve got an out,” Theodosia said. “You’re engaged.”
“I know. Isn’t it super?”
Theodosia reached out and squeezed Bettina’s hand. “It sure is, honey.”
