Kindle Edition
Amazon
Divas in Cahoots
Category:
Mystery/Suspense
Publisher: Jon McDonald
ISBN-10: 1490996974
Type: Fiction
Pages: 261
Copyright: 2013
ISBN-13: 9781490996974
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Santa Fe, New Mexico and a murder has occured in the tawny opera crowd. Did any of these classy ladies have a reason for murder?
Heiress Bella Harrington-Crenshaw Found Murdered – that was the shocking headline that rocked the quiet and complacent Santa Fe social scene. And one of their own just might have been the murderer. What rancor could have caused one of these sweet, mild tempered ladies to commit such an atrocious act? Or were there other unknown forces at work? International spies, senatorial murder, blackmail, art theft, hidden identities, and a masquerading drag queen, all humorously complicate a simple resolution to this tangled mystery. First introduced in Divas Never Flinch, this cast of irascible characters returns with new delights and magnificent battles.
Excerpt
HEIRESS BELLA HARRINGTON – CRENSHAW FOUND MURDERED
That was the scandalous newspaper headline that blasted the shocked citizens of Santa Fe, New Mexico on that fateful autumn morning. Mrs. Harrington-Crenshaw was a leading figure in the Santa Fe social scene, imported from the East coast with her family’s old banking money and Washington political connections from her brother and late father. She had never married, but had adopted the title of Mrs. as a tribute to her wealth and stature. It was also widely recognized that she thought a great deal of herself.
The police reported that a panic button had been activated by Mrs. H-C at her bedside, but when the police arrived, they found the house secure with no break-ins or any signs of forced entry, so it was likely Mrs. H-C knew the murderer or murderers and had let them in herself. But the question remained, had the murderer then set the alarm and locked the door when they left?
The alarm company security patrol was already investigating at the scene when the police arrived, and the police authorized entry. Mrs. H-C was found garroted in the kitchen with what looked like picture wire. She was holding a chef’s knife in her hand. There were a few drops of blood on the counter and the floor, but after careful examination it was found that she had no visible wounds so the blood was presumed to have been that of the assailant. The DNA from that could be decisive in identifying the killer.
Robbery was ruled out as a motive as there was nothing missing, the housekeeper later confirmed – even though there was very expensive jewelry strewn about her dressing table – the safe in the library was wide open and filled with cash, more jewels, and private papers - and her Picassos, Van Gogh’s, Seurat’s, and a stunning collection of impressionist paintings, were unalarmed and untouched. There were no fingerprints, no footprints or any clues inside the house as to who the murderer might be. And as she lived far away from any neighbors, the police had been unable to find any eye witnesses. And as neither of the domestics lived in, they were not there to witness anything. That evening the house keeper was at home with her family, and the chauffer had been at a party all evening with dozens of witnesses - so they were not suspects.
The police were completely baffled, Captain Chavez reported, but he assured the public that all the available investigative resources of the police department were working full time to solve this horrible crime.
◘ ◘ ◘
The morning coffee and gossip circle on the patio of Portabellos Market was in shock. Well, at least as much shock as was possible with these very vocal and strongly opinionated ladies. No one here was known for her reticence. However, this morning there was not a single lady present who did not suspect that at least one other of the group might have had a hand in the murder - even if indirectly. Bella Harrington-Crenshaw had been a thorn in everyone’s side for quite some time now. There was no love lost for her amongst the ladies of this group.
“Who do you suppose could have done it? They say it wasn’t a burglary,” Roberta, the pie lady, asked in wonderment. “It must have been someone she knew. They say the alarm came from her bedroom. Could it have been a secret admirer? A crime of passion?”
Connye let out a hoot of laughter. “Don’t think there have been any dogs hunting in that neck of the woods since she arrived in Santa Fe.”
Lourdes,” Honey snidely remarked as she sipped at her tall latte with extra foam.
“Now, Honey, I think that’s overreaching a bit, don’t you? After all, we must show some respect for the recently departed, don’t we all agree?” Sonora, one of the circle’s recognized leaders, tried injecting a tonic of reason into the conversation.
There was a moment of silence as each lady surveyed the group and wondered which of these other fine ladies might be capable of murder - and there were any number of possibilities.
Connye shifted her considerable heft in the delicate patio chair and asked, “Respect? I am one who has always been of the opinion that one has to earn respect. And I would like to ask everyone here if they think she was owed one iota of earned respect?” No one could speak up in her favor. “Yes, just as I thought,” Connye trumpeted. “Tragic as her untimely death might be, I don’t think there is one of us who can truly say we will miss her all that much.”
Sweet Roberta hesitatingly raised her hand. “Well, I know she was not very nice sometimes, but I do think we need to forgive her at least a little.”
Sonora continued, “Yes, my dear, you may be right. But when you reflect back to when she first arrived here there was so much excitement and anticipation. She held such potential and promise – but ended up disappointing us all so deeply.”
“Well, all I have to say is that she was one of my better clients,” Olivia, the Helena Landau Cosmetics lady, spoke up.
“And that is because she so desperately needed all the cosmetic enhancement she could pile on,” Connye added. “What was she, a hundred and twenty?”
“Now, now….” Roberta tutted, patting Connye’s hand.
Sonora tried, once again, to bring the rhetoric down a notch, “Well, let’s just remember her and move on. There’s no point in dwelling on the past. Let’s all resolve to make a fresh start, shall we?”
“That’s the problem with Santa Fe, far too many wannabe’s flocking to our splendid weather, charming arts scene, and scintillating social circle. We really must impose some sort of a moratorium on unchecked migration from the spoils of industrial America,” Honey added, as she closed her purse and prepared to leave. She had a house showing in half an hour.
Sonora countered, “Yes, but you must remember almost all of us, except for you darling Olivia, have migrated from somewhere else just as Mrs. H-C did. And you Honey, as a real estate agent, would be sorely affected if all the Santa Fe newbies suddenly dried up.”
Sonora rose – shopping time – a little birthday event for her dear friend, Lionel, turning a luxurious 78 today. “Well – I’ll see you all for dinner this evening. And remember it’s a birthday surprise dinner party so no loose lips. And I have been informed by an inside source that birthday presents are not required, but if one must, then there is a preference for Turkish Delight. I believe they carry it on isle four in the candy section. Oh, and only the imported goodies, no domestic imitations, if you please - as someone unnamed so graciously informed me only this morning. Toodle-loo.” Sonora waved and disappeared into Portabellos Market.
◘ ◘ ◘
Sonora’s cooking abilities were limited to toast, coffee, and plunging pouches into boiling water. So it was to be her darling housekeeper, Henrietta, who actually prepared the food for the party. A buffet seemed more appropriate for the occasion than a sit down dinner - much more casual. This also allowed Henrietta to prepare dishes in advance. Because of Lionel’s addictive fondness for Turkish Delight, Sonora planned a menu of Turkish delicacies, most of which could be served at room temperature – wonderful eggplant smothered in a rich tomato sauce, succulent kabobs, and nutty pilaf salads were to be just some of the treats. Besides Sonora’s beloved Champaign, there would be various wines, and in tune with the Turkish theme – Raki.
Lionel loved surprise birthday parties, especially when he was the guest of honor. Of course, Sonora knew that he knew. And he pretended not to know, as she also pretended that he did not know that she knew. Little games were what kept interest alive in this rather small, and inbred community. She also had a little surprise for Lionel that would please the other guests as well. Now, this was about something she knew and he could not know.
Sonora, as was befitting the occasion, dressed in Harem pants and a very tasteful gold embroidered jacket that would put to shame even the most exalted Sultan. On top of this charming ensemble she wore her diamond, emerald, and ruby necklace.
First to arrive were Olivia and Honey. Olivia Valdez, was the only local in the group. Everyone else and been part of the Santa Fe migration from other less desirable parts of America. Spicy and motivated, she ran her own very successful cosmetics business. Most in the group were her clients. As requested, both bore boxes of Turkish Delight for the birthday boy.
“Darlings.” Sonora greeted. “So glad you came early. We wouldn’t want to spoil Lionel’s surprise by everyone showing up at once, would we?”
“So nice of you to host this event, considering the recent sad occasion,” Honey sneered, referring to the Bella.
“Now Honey, a little charity, please. Let’s make this a sparkling celebration. Seventy-eight years old. Just imagine. I hope I shall be long gone by the time I reach that age.”
“Surely not,” Olivia soothed. “With your skin you will look radiant well into your nineties.”
“Too kind.”
Roberta, Sonora’s partner in the pie shop, waddled in bearing a splendid bouquet of peonies. Roberta was as darling as a Teddy bear and not much larger. Small, round and twinkling, she danced over to Sonora. “These are for you,” she cheered.
“Why, thank you darling. But it’s not my birthday.”
“I know, but you’re the hostess, and ever so deserving just the same.”
The boys had just arrived. Lincoln and Carlos are a couple, who own the Quacking Aspen Inn, a small, charming boutique hotel. They sidled over, each one kissing one of Sonora’s cheeks at the same time. Sonora sputtered and pushed them playfully away - too much naked sentiment for her.
Lincoln, still trim at 50-something, showed Sonora a lovely African violet. “For the birthday child. I know how he loves them and I was assured this was a new color. Where should I put it?”
“Over there with the other presents,” she pointed to the coffee table. “So glad you could make it. Is your business still good?”
“Thriving,” Carlos, the younger, responded. “Booked solid for months.”
Linda Etter, Sonora’s friend from their New York City days came in, followed by the Getgoodes – Brenda and the Major, and the Gladscows - Ruth and Howard – two couples with more money than wit. And more sense than charm. But loyal and constant, they were always supportive of our odd collection of divas.
Last to arrive, and only minutes before the birthday guest was due, Connye entered with the darling Kaiser sisters - Kate and Helen, both near 80, they had been billed the Grandma Moses’ of the southwest for their fine landscape paintings.
“I hope we’re not late. Took some time to get the sisters moving,” Connye spoke aside to Sonora.
“Not at all. Just fine.”
Connye scanned the guests the asked, “No Oz today?”
“He’s in New York on personal business for a few days.”
Olivia spoke up, “Are we to hide? Isn’t Lionel due soon?”
“Not necessary. I’m sure he will know when he sees all of your parked cars in front of the house.”
“Didn’t think of that. What dummies we are,” Brenda said half to herself.
Lionel suddenly appeared at the entrance. Feigning surprise, he flailed his arms up in the air and pronounced, “Well, what is all of this?”
Caught off guard, cries of “surprise” intermittently flowed through the group.
Turning to Sonora Lionel said, “I thought we were going out to brunch - just you and me.”
Sonora laughed. “Well I had to tell you something to get you over here. I hope it was a real surprise.”
“Of course, my dear.” Then leaning in towards her he said softly, “And now, I have a little surprise for you.”
He retreated back outside and returned leading the one and only Quinto – Sonora’s on and off romance of years past and now a major motion picture star.
Lionel announced, “Look who I found lurking in a limousine outside your door.”
“Hi, all you lovelies,” Quinto greeted.
Everyone in the room gasped, including Sonora. They all rushed forward to greet the real surprise guest. Sonora shot Lionel one of her quick secret smiles. He nodded.
Quinto, after greeting the other guests, walked over to Sonora, who had stood aside not wanting to be part of the crush.
“Hello there, lady,” he whispered, taking her in his arms and dipping her backwards as he landed her a welcoming kiss.
“Hey, whose birthday is this anyway?” Lionel joked.
Sonora, disengaging from Quinto, clapped her hands loudly. Immediately a staccato drumming sounded from outside the patio entrance. A male and female belly dancer came gyrating inside, hand cymbals flashing. The male danced over to the guest of honor and made Lionel’s day by making it perfectly clear that the dancer was Lionel’s main birthday present. The female danced over to the Major Getgoode who flushed a beet red and sought refuge behind his wife, the formidable Brenda.
All in all the party was a great success. True surprises popped up where least expected. And expected surprises were all part of the delightful game of “guess who knows what.”
|
