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Authors: Brent Peterson

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BOOK: Set the Stage for Murder
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***

Roz stood on the front porch of the guesthouse and smoked a cigarette to calm herself. Everyone was due at the main house for cocktails in five minutes. Naturally, she would arrive late, because it was what was expected from her, and she would oblige. Still, she was anxious to get the evening started before she lost her nerve. The mild weather combined with the stress she was under made her shiver. She was glad that she had topped her beige sleeveless blouse with the peach silk shawl.


Are you ready to go?” Juliet asked as she joined Roz on the porch. “You look lovely tonight.” She smiled as she held Roz at arms length and gave her the once-over. “Although you and Meg look like twins, except for the wrap. You’d better keep it on so I can tell you apart.”

Roz gently caressed Juliet’s cheek with her hand. “I’ll be sure and do that. It’s good to see you smile, baby girl.” She gave Juliet a kiss on the forehead. “Why don’t you go on over? Meg and I will be there shortly.”

Juliet nodded and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She turned back to the house and called to Meg through the screen door. “I’m going over to the Cottage, Meg. I’ll see you in a little bit.” She gave Roz a little wave and made her way down the porch steps and onto the path that led to the Cottage. As she neared the house, a sports car pulled into the drive and screeched to a stop, just short of the hedge. Connor got out and slammed the door before catching sight of Juliet, who had stopped and watched his arrival from the stone walkway. The two stared at each other for a few seconds without moving or saying anything. Juliet broke her position first and started across the grass toward him. He put his hand out, palm toward her, and shook his head. She stopped uncertainly and looked at him pleadingly. He shook his head again before turning around and quickly making his way across the driveway to the front door. Juliet stood in the grass and watched him walk away from her. She continued to stand there and look, long after he had disappeared into the house. Finally, her shoulders slumped as her gaze drifted down to the lawn beneath her. She knew Roz had probably seen the whole thing, which added the uncomfortable, yet familiar feeling of embarrassment to this new sensation that could only be heartbreak. Determined not to look weak or defeated, she straightened her shoulders and returned to the stone path without looking back at the guesthouse. Although she didn’t make a habit of it, Juliet decided she would, indeed, have a drink tonight.

“Oh God, Roz. She’s in such pain.” Meg was standing inside the house, looking out through the screen door. There was a catch in her voice, and a tear ran down her cheek. “We’ve done this to her. It’s all our fault.”

Roz dropped her cigarette to the porch and stubbed it out with the sole of her beige Manolo Blahnik sandal. “It couldn’t be helped, Meggie. We had to protect her. You know that.”

“I know. I do.” Meg came out onto the porch and watched Juliet disappear into the front doorway of the house. “I still wonder if the other way might not have been better?” She turned and looked at Roz questioningly.

Roz smiled and took the other woman in her arms, rocking her gently. “It had to be this way, Meggie. It just had to be.” She’ll get over this. We all get over our first heartbreak. I did. You did. We move on.” She pulled back, put her hands on Meg’s shoulders and looked her in they eye. “Am I right?”

Meg smiled slightly and nodded her agreement, once again convinced that they had done the only thing they could do. “I’m sorry to be such a nuisance about this. I know you’ve got so much else on you plate right now. I’m worried for you, Roz.”

Roz broke away from her friend and turned to go back in the house. “I’m going to reapply my lipstick. Do you want me to grab your purse?”

“I don’t know exactly what you’re planning tonight, Roz, but I’m pretty sure it’s dangerous. I know you’re trying to “out” whomever it is that’s threatening you. Promise me you’ll be careful? Whoever is behind this is sick, Roz.”

Roz had stopped with her hand on the door. Now she turned around and faced the other woman. “Meggie, I know you’re worried and that touches me deeply.” She smiled and took her friend’s hand. “I promise you that I’ll be as careful as I can be, okay?”

Meg nodded her head and smiled. “Okay. Then I won’t mention it again. And if you need me, well, you know where I’ll be.”

Roz tightened her grip on Meg’s hand and looked at her. “Yes, Meg, I know where you’ll be.” She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before going into the house. Meg stood on the porch, closed her eyes, and prayed that everything would turn out okay. Unfortunately, the peace she usually felt after praying eluded her tonight.

 

Chapter 14

 

Vicki and Teddy often entertained on the Cottage’s back veranda. It was almost as big as any room in the house and offered stunning views of the river and the mountains, perfectly framed by the porch’s original gingerbread trim. Also, at this time of year, they were able to leave the French doors open, so that their guests could simply wander into the dining room when dinner was to be served.

It was Friday evening, a little past 6:00, and the weekend guests at Lenore’s Folly, with the exception of Rosamund Whiting and Meg Pierce, had gathered on the veranda and were mingling in a rather half-hearted fashion. Dame Caroline and Phoebe sat on one of the wicker sofas and chatted about mutual acquaintances. Sally Crandall had commandeered a nearby chair and was feigning interest in their conversation, all the while watching her son and husband intently. Connor was standing by the railing, holding a sparkling water and shaking his head violently in response to whatever his father had just asked him. On another sofa, Vicki watched this same scene out of the corner of her eye, while listening to a story Sir Tony was telling her and Teddy about John Gielgud, Judith Anderson, and a drunken sailor from Yorkshire. Billy Putnam had picked up an entire platter of spring rolls and was making his way toward Juliet, who stood by the railing at the far end of the porch, just steps from where Harold Fiske slumped and snored in the chair nearest the bar that Ethan was manning. Vincent circulated through the group, refilling wine glasses and eavesdropping on conversations.

Marc Denby had always been lucky and apparently, tonight was no exception. He was walking through the kitchen doorway and into the dining room, carrying a new platter of spring rolls to replace the one Billy had swiped, when Roz and Meg arrived at the party. Therefore, he had the perfect vantage point from which to witness one of the most awkward social moments in the history of Lenore’s Folly. It was a scene he was destined to describe over and over again, for many years to come. It always started the same way: “As Roz and Meg walked onto the porch, everyone, and I mean
everyone
stopped talking, turned, and stared at them as if on cue. You could have heard a dagger drop … ”

A better detective and lesser hostess would have stayed put and kept silent, allowing the inherent possibilities in such an awkward moment time to surface and room to grow. Vicki, however, couldn’t be that cruel to a guest in her home, no matter what clue she never got to see or which lead she never got to follow. She rose to her feet and crossed to the two women.

“Roz, Meg, how lovely to see you both. I’m so sorry I was unavailable when you arrived. I hope you were able to entertain yourselves?” She kissed each of them on the cheek.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.” Roz said. “Meggie, Juliet, and I took a lovely walk on the path overlooking the river and ended up on the bench that surrounds that magnificent old tree, what’s it called?” she asked.

“The Courting Oak,” Vicki replied.


That’s it, the Courting Oak. Anyway, it was wonderful just to sit there and admire the view, wasn’t it Meggie?”

“Yes, it was very peaceful; very restorative. I was glad Roz suggested that we do it,” Meg said, looking at her friend gratefully before turning her attention back to Vicki. “It’s so sweet of you and Teddy to have us back to Lenore’s Folly. I never get tired of coming here.” She smiled apologetically. “Vicki, I hope you don’t mind, but I picked some of your daisies for my room. They’re my absolute favorite and I’m afraid I just can’t resist them.”

“Meg, if I’d known that, I would have put a bouquet in your room myself. Of course I don’t mind.” Vicki turned to Ethan. “Help me remember that, Ethan. We should always have daisies for Meg’s room.”

Ethan smiled and bowed slightly. “So noted.”

Roz stepped back and gave her hostess an appraising look. “Vicki, that dress is simply stunning on you. It’s one of Gretchen’s, isn’t it?” She sighed and looked back and forth between Vicki and Meg. “Remember when we would buy the material, pay her a hundred bucks, and end up with the most divine dress ever?” She laughed and shook her head. “Now, she has her own section at Bergdorf’s and a hundred dollars won’t get you one of her belts.” She cast an accusatory look in Vicki’s direction. “It’s all your fault, you know.”

Vicki laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is. And you’re right, of course, the dress is one of Gretchen’s designs. Vicki smiled up at her husband who had just joined the group. “Teddy surprised me with it today.”

Roz offered her cheek for Teddy to kiss. “Well, Mr. Producer, you have quite the eye.”

“Actually, I have quite the wife.” He slipped between the latest arrivals to the party and gently took each of them by the arm. “You see, I have this knack for surrounding myself with beautiful women.” He led them toward the bar. “Allow me to get you a drink. The two of you have to catch up with the rest of us.”

Roz gazed down at a sleeping Harold Fiske and looked back at Teddy with a wry smile on her face. “Just don’t let me catch up
that
much, okay?” She kicked the playwright’s foot, causing him to wake up, with a start. He looked around, undoubtedly trying to figure out just where the hell he was. “Wake up, Harry,” Roz said, more loudly than Harold would have preferred. “I just finished reading the play and you’ve got rewrites to do.” She flashed him her famous, winning smile, letting him know that she was only kidding.

“Roz, darling. You’re beautiful. You’re insanely talented. You’re standing right there by the bar. Could you get me another gin and tonic? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

Roz smiled. “Of course, darling. You just leave it to Roz.” She turned her smile on the bartender. “Hello, Ethan. Meggie and I will have a couple of white wines and another gin and tonic for Harry, if you please.”

“Sure thing, Roz. Coming right up.”

“White wine?” Harold Fiske asked. “What’s up with that? I thought you were a scotch and soda girl, all the way?”

“Oh, it’s too early for the hard stuff, Harry,” she said, handing him his drink. “I need to keep my wits about me this evening.” And with that statement, delivered in a voice that had been trained to reach the half-deaf man in the back row of a theater and still come across like warm honey, Rosamund Whiting turned around, wine glass in hand and faced her audience.

This time, Vicki kept her manners in check and remained silent and still, allowing someone else to make the first move or say the first line. As if by prior agreement, Teddy and Phoebe followed suit, letting the lead players take center stage. As it happened, it was one of the supporting characters that made the next move and turned the evening in a decidedly farcical direction, at least momentarily.


Oh, shit,” Billy Putnam exclaimed as he tripped and dropped the platter of spring rolls on the floor. Vincent rushed over to pick up the scattered roles, while Ethan dampened a bar towel with club soda and gave it to Billy so that he could wipe away the peanut dipping sauce that had splattered up on his pant leg. The decidedly amusing, and for Billy, somewhat typical incident had broken the dramatic tension precipitated by Roz and Meg’s arrival. People laughed and started to move about, reaching for hors

d´oeuvres and holding up glasses for refilling. If Roz Whiting had intended to seize control of the evening, her plan had gone awry, at least temporarily, thanks to Billy’s pratfall.


Oh no, Meg. I’m afraid some of it got on you, as well.” Vicki, who had bent over to help Vincent, indicated a spot on the hem of Meg’s pants. She straightened up and put her arm around the other woman. “There is plenty of time before dinner, if you want to go back to the guesthouse and change. Or if you’d rather not, I’m sure I have something that will fit you.”


Oh, don’t be silly,” said Roz, with a wave of her hand. “It’s hardly noticeable. And I’d hate it if Meggie had to leave, even for just a minute. She might miss something.”

Vicki ignored Roz and looked at the other woman, questioningly. “Meg?”

Meg looked to Roz uncertainly and something unspoken passed between the two women. “Oh, I’m fine, Vicki,” she said with a smile. “As Roz says, it’s hardly noticeable. I’ll be just fine.” She grabbed Vicki’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Unless, of course, you’re going to give me that gorgeous dress you’re wearing now. Then I’d seriously have to think about it.”

Vicki returned the squeeze and looked back and forth between Meg and Roz. If she didn’t know it before, she certainly knew it now. Roz clearly ran the show. For some reason, Roz didn’t want Meg leaving her side. Was it because she needed an ally at this gathering, or did she simply enjoy controlling the other woman? Vicki thought back to the other night, when she had grudgingly moved Meg into the “suspect” category. Maybe that argument was gaining steam. She donned her best fake smile. “No deal, Meg,” Vicki said. I’m keeping this one. Now, if the two of you will excuse me, I’m going to check with Marc about dinner.” On her way to the kitchen she shared a brief look with Phoebe, who, along with Caroline and Sally, had watched the entire episode. Phoebe’s eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly, as if to acknowledge that, yes, there were some awfully interesting dynamics at play this evening at Lenore’s Folly.

BOOK: Set the Stage for Murder
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