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“How much did all of this cost?” Anne wondered aloud.
“No telling.” William looked up and around them. “Most of these galas spend enough money to cure the disease they’re scrounging for.”
“Ugh.” Anne resisted making a face. They were here to work, not judge. She put on a pleasant expression and took William’s lead.
They made the rounds together, and William introduced her by the name Anne Pruit. There were couples young and old here, and a few singles clustered together. William spoke to all of them with an easy smile and a ready wit. Anne spoke less but put on the persona of a simple girl dazzled by the gala (which wasn’t too far from the truth) and only spoke when she had to answer for the sake of politeness. Apart from a time or two when she played up her naïve role so well that William had to cough to cover a laugh.
“You’re good at this,” he said, handing her a drink.
“It’s my job.”
William shrugged his head to one side. “There are other jobs that would require skills like this.”
“I’m not looking to be recruited.”
“Fair enough.” William leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice as he pointed across the room. “We’re going to listen in on them a bit, if we can. That’s Clary Egerton. Went to school with her for a time.”
“Catching up with old friends?” Anne raised her brow. Clary was a tall woman, whose poise disguised her actual height and strength. Her hair, a reddish-gold, was arranged impeccably, but even with the lift from the twists and pins, it came midway down her back. Her father was only a few inches taller than she was and had the same red hair, albeit with streaks of gray at the temples.
“Hard to go that far. Her father’s the man that put a hit out on me. I was still in Europe at the time, and my reach had inadvertently crossed over into some of his territory. Given who my father is, he couldn’t believe that it was a coincidence.” William shook his head. “Maybe it wasn’t, or perhaps my father would’ve issued me a warning. He was keen on object lessons though, so I suspect he wanted to teach me some abstract lesson about business or war, or both.”
“Is your father here? He might be connected to the murder,” Anne suggested.
William shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s not so clumsy. I do, however, believe he’s the one who had me followed. Him or Egerton.”
“Could be both.” Anne tilted her head to the side, admiring the cut of Clary’s dress.
“Possibly.” William knocked back his drink and stepped forward. Anne put hers back on a tray passing by without drinking it.
“Let me hover over there for a few minutes. They won’t know me, so I can talk to that woman over there and pick up whatever conversation they’re having before you come to get me.”
William bobbed his head and grinned. “See, your mind is too good to be wasted on the police force.”
“You just told me that I’m too smart to be a detective,” Anne drawled.
“Solving petty crimes, you are.”
“Murder isn’t petty.”
“It is when the murders you’re solving are of thugs and hookers.” William picked up another champagne glass from a waiter. “It doesn’t really matter if you put this one away. There will be another to take his place within a few weeks, if that.”
“If it doesn’t matter,” Anne said crossly, “why are you even helping me?”
“Because I’d prefer not to be finding one of those cute little crisscross marks on your cold, dead hand.” William’s voice was breezy, but he looked away to sip his champagne. He was rubbing his thumb over the scar.
“You’re collaborating with the police because you’re afraid I might die?” Anne whispered.
“Why don’t you get over there and do your job, pet?”
Anne wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. William’s protective streaks tended to do that to her. Putting that aside for the moment, Anne went to introduce herself as Anne Pruit to the elderly woman standing near Clary Egerton and her father. Jeffers and DeWinter were in a car outside recording whatever she picked up, so she wasn’t too concerned about hearing every word, but she was able to handle simultaneously talking to one person while listening to another. A skill she had learned over the years of dealing with both a teenager and an infant.
“Last time I was in Vegas, I don’t think we had anything quite as lovely as this,” Mr. Egerton said.
“Yes, dear, it is such a good cause. I hope that they can properly fund her hernia surgery,” the old woman, Mrs. Evans, told Anne.
