Polished Off (Charlotte LaRue Mystery Series, Book 3) Page 25

  Louis laughed. “Changing the subject, huh?” He held up his hand. “Now don’t get huffy. I’m just teasing. New York was crowded and loud, and my new job was not exactly what I’d pictured myself doing. I was told I’d be serving as a bodyguard; the last four weeks were a trial run to see if our company is suitable for the job. But baby-sitting is what I’d call it. And baby-sitting some spoiled, self-proclaimed diva is not my idea of fun.”

  “So, who is this spoiled diva? Anyone I’ve ever heard of?”

  “Oh yeah,” he drawled. “Unless you’re comatose, I’m sure you’ve heard of her. Most of the country has.”

  “Well?”

  “ ‘Well’ what?” He feigned innocence.

  “Well nothing, if you’re going to be like that.”

  Louis laughed. “The diva is Angel James.”

  “Nooo—no way,” Charlotte scoffed.

  Louis held up his hand, palm out. “I swear. If I’m lying I’m dying.”

  There weren’t that many modern-day singers who impressed Charlotte, but Angel James was one of them. Everyone, but everyone, had heard of Angel James, the teenage wonder who had taken the music scene by storm and had every person from eight to eighty humming her songs.

  “And did your company get the job?”

  Louis grinned. “Yeah, we did.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be leaving again?”

  He shook his head. “Not right away. She’s planning on taking a hiatus, here in New Orleans, before her fall tour.”

  Charlotte frowned. “Don’t I remember something about her buying a house here?”

  “Yep, she owns one over on First Street. That’s where she’ll be staying for a couple of months.”

  Charlotte grinned. “Well, if she needs a maid, you will be sure and recommend Maid-for-a-Day, won’t you?”

  A Cleaning Tip from Charlotte

  To have a fresh-smelling room, use the following procedure when cleaning ceiling fans: Dust the blades and base of the fan well. Then saturate a cloth in a mixture of approximately one part pine or lemon-scented cleaner to five parts water. Ring out the wet cloth well and wipe each fan blade, top and bottom. Rinse the cloth in clear water, squeeze out excess moisture then wipe down each blade again.

  Now turn on the fan, and the pine or lemon scent will waft through the room, leaving it smelling clean and fresh.

  Running Maid for a Day keeps Charlotte LaRue plenty busy. But her latest Job involves more than dusting and mopping. She’s got to contend with the rumblings of a feuding gardening club—and things certainly aren’t coming up roses ...

  The summer’s off to a sweltering start—and Charlotte is already feeling the heat. One of her best clients has just up and moved—leaving Charlotte with a big chunk of free time in her normally hectic schedule. Her son, Hank, is thrilled. He thinks it’s high time his mother retired. But Charlotte has other ideas—and soon she has a new client, forty-something gardening enthusiast Mimi Adams. Mimi’s planning to host the next meeting of the Horticultural Heritage Society—a club that’s popular with New Orleans’s society set—and she wants Charlotte to be there.

  Charlotte’s not sure what to expect. Some gardening talk, sure. Lots of good gossip, most definitely. But these ladies have their claws out—and things get down and dirty fast. There’s talk of extra-martial affairs (did Mimi really sleep with her friend Rita’s husband?) and a bitter argument over the club’s just-completed presidential election (Mimi won—but was it rigged?) A few days later, Mimi’s dead. The doctor says she was poisoned. But who planted it—and where? Was it in the bitter brownies Mimi munched at the meeting? Or in the red wine she sipped later? As Charlotte takes a closer look at Mimi’s resentful “friends” and neighbors—and gets to know her scheming husband—she realizes she has a whole plot full of suspects to weed through ... and she’d better start digging...

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of

  WIPED OUT,

  the next Charlotte LaRue mystery

  coming in February in hardcover!

  The weekend had passed much too fast, Charlotte decided, as she knocked on the Adams’s front door on Monday morning.

  Saturday had been filled with her own household chores, as well as making out the payroll for Maid-for-a-Day and recording receipts. She’d attended church services and the weekly family lunch afterward on Sunday. And thanks to her sister’s spicy jambalaya at lunch, she’d battled indigestion all night.

  Charlotte heard the click of the deadbolt lock. With a sigh of weariness and hoping that she looked better than she felt, she stiffened her back, squared her shoulders, and forced a smile of greeting.

  When the door swung open, Charlotte was shocked at Mimi’s appearance. She was still wearing a nightgown and robe, her face was bare of makeup, dark circles ringed her bloodshot eyes, and her hair looked as if she’d just crawled out of bed. Was she ill?

  Mimi nodded a greeting, stepped aside, and motioned for Charlotte to come in. “I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you today,” she said. “The house is a wreck.” She closed the door and locked it. “My son and daughter both decided to come home this weekend,” she explained. She turned and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, and Charlotte followed. “June just got here,” Mimi said over her shoulder. “We’re having tea in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll start in the dining room and parlor then,” Charlotte offered.

  Mimi shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Ah, Mimi, excuse me, but are you feeling okay?”

  Mimi paused and faced Charlotte. “Just tired,” she said, “but thanks for your concern.”

  Charlotte’s normal routine for cleaning a room was to begin at the top and work her way down. In the dining room that meant first dusting the elaborate crystal and brass chandelier and the padded cornice boards over the tops of the windows. Whether she liked it or not, though, because the dining room was next to the kitchen, she was going to be privy to the conversation going on in there.

  Charlotte slipped off her shoes, and armed with her feather duster, she climbed onto one of the dining room chairs near the chandelier.

  “Okay, Mimi, what’s wrong?” she heard June ask.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it,” Mimi responded, her tone lackluster.

  “Well, something’s wrong. You’ve been moping around since I got here. Is it Emma or Justin? Are they okay?”

  “Emma and Justin are just fine.”

  “Then it must be Gordon. That’s it, isn’t it? I can tell by that look on your face. Something’s going on with Gordon. Oh, dear. Don’t cry. Here—here’s a tissue.”

  “S-sorry,” Mimi stammered, “but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Talk about what? Come on now. Sometimes talking helps.”

  “It’s just that-that I still can’t believe it myself.”

  “Believe what?”

  “I think Gordon is having an affair.”

  “Uh-uh, no way,” June argued. “Not Gordon.”

  In the dining room, Charlotte froze. Another affair? What in the devil was wrong with all these people? First June’s husband was supposedly having an affair; then Rita thought Mimi was having an affair with her husband, Don; and now Mimi thinks her husband is having an affair.

  “Yes, way,” Mimi declared tearfully. “He’s been coming home later and later each night, and he’s never in his office anymore. And-and I found lipstick on his shirt collar.”

  “But I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for all of that.”

  “Yeah, and Rita is her name.”

  Charlotte almost fell off the dining room chair with shock. These people needed some serious counseling, she decided, as she climbed down. The longer she thought about the counseling idea, the funnier it became, and in spite of herself, she felt a fit of silly giggles coming on. Group therapy. That’s what they needed. She snorted, then clapped her hand over her mouth and prayed that neither Mimi nor June had heard her.<
br />
  To give June credit, she protested, “Aw, come on, Mimi. That’s ridiculous. Gordon wouldn’t do such a thing, not with Rita of all people.”

  “Why not? What better way for Rita to get back at me for the so-called affair I had with Don?”

  “Nope, I don’t believe it, not for a moment. For one thing, you’re not giving Gordon enough credit here. He’s got better taste in women than someone like Rita. You’re just still upset over what happened on Friday.”

  Charlotte couldn’t take it any longer. The whole mess was pathetic and sordid, not really funny at all, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. And if she didn’t do something fast, she was going to make a fool of herself and get fired to boot. Grabbing her supply carrier, she fled to the parlor.

  A few minutes later, Charlotte heard the back door shut; then she caught a glimpse of Mimi on the staircase.

  “I’m going to my room, Charlotte,” she called out, “and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  To Charlotte’s dismay, Mimi stayed holed up in her bedroom for the rest of the morning. Charlotte had cleaned all of the rooms downstairs and upstairs, all except the master bedroom. She’d hoped to clean it as well before lunch, but since Mimi was still in the room, Charlotte decided that she might as well eat lunch a bit early. She only hoped that Mimi would come out in time for her to clean the room before she had to begin preparing for the HHS meeting that afternoon.

  Charlotte was sitting at the kitchen table eating the last few bites of the salad she’d brought from home when Mimi finally came downstairs. The change in Mimi’s appearance from earlier was astounding. Charlotte knew she was gawking, but she couldn’t seem to help it.

  Mimi had swept her dark hair up and back into a French twist, a style that showed off her high cheekbones. Makeup had made the dark circles beneath her eyes disappear, and she was wearing a figure-hugging dress that only someone with her tall slim figure could get away with wearing.

  “Clean up pretty good, don’t I?” Mimi quipped, with an amused expression. “A little makeup, the right hair style, and the right dress can do wonders.”

  Still amazed at the transformation, Charlotte finally managed to say, “You look stunning.”

  “Thank you.” Mimi glanced around the kitchen, her gaze pausing when she spied the brownies that Charlotte had arranged on one of the crystal platters and covered with Saran Wrap. “I see you found the brownies that June brought over this morning.”

  “I didn’t see anything else, so I figured they had to be for your meeting this afternoon.”

  Mimi nodded. “Yes, they are, and they’re homemade. It was June’s turn to furnish refreshment, and she wanted to try out a new recipe. That’s why she was here so early.” Mimi’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “She made me taste test one. Did you try one?”

  Charlotte shook her head that she hadn’t. She’d been tempted, though. The brownies had looked and smelled wonderful, and next to pecan pralines, fudge brownies were her favorite sweet. But she’d resisted.

  Mimi grimaced. “I didn’t want to hurt June’s feelings, but between you and me, the one I ate didn’t taste all that good, a bit too much chocolate maybe. But then I’m not exactly a chocolate lover either.” She glanced at Charlotte’s salad. “If you’re finished with your lunch, I’d like your opinion.”

  Charlotte’s mouth watered. “I’m a borderline diabetic,” she said. “I really shouldn’t.” She paused as her better judgment warred with her salivating taste buds. “But maybe just one little bite wouldn’t hurt, though.”

  Mimi grinned knowingly. Slipping one of the brownies from beneath the plastic wrap, she pinched off part of it and handed it to Charlotte. Charlotte popped the piece into her mouth.

  “Well?” Mimi asked, a moment later. “What do you think?”

  “I think I should have the rest of that.” Charlotte pointed at the partial brownie still in Mimi’s hand. “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste now, would we?”

  Mimi laughed and handed Charlotte the rest of the brownie. “Guess my taste buds were off,” she said. “And speaking of food, I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on.” She grinned. “Gordon called and wants me to meet him for lunch. It’s so rare that he—” She waved a dismissing hand. “Never mind. The HHS meeting doesn’t start until two, so I should be back in plenty of time.” She motioned toward the dining room. “Just set everything up like you did on Friday.”

  “Enjoy your lunch,” Charlotte told her. So that’s why Mimi had undergone such a drastic change from earlier that morning, she thought, as she watched the younger woman head for the back door. All it had taken was a bit of attention from her husband.

  How sad, Charlotte thought. Then, she shook her head and sighed. Time to get to work.

  When Mimi returned from her luncheon appointment, it was almost one-thirty, and Charlotte was placing the last of the wine glasses on the buffet.

  “Everything looks lovely, Charlotte,” Mimi said.

  Charlotte smiled. “Thanks. One thing, though. I’m not sure you have enough wine. I only found a couple of bottles in the pantry.”

  Mimi groaned and rolled her eyes. “I knew there was something that I’d forgotten. I think it was either Rita or Karen’s turn to furnish the wine, but after Friday, it’s not likely that either of them will show. I meant to pick some up on my way back from lunch.” Her expression grew thoughtful; then she shrugged. “Oh, well, too bad and too late. Just make sure there’s plenty of coffee.”

  The sound of the door knocker echoed throughout the house, startling both women. Mimi frowned and glanced at her watch. “No one’s ever this early.”

  Assuming that she would have door duty again, Charlotte took a step toward the door leading to the hallway, but Mimi waved her off. “I’ll get it,” she said.

  A moment later, Charlotte heard the front door open, then Mimi exclaiming, “Rita! Karen? Doreen?”

  Rita laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. We come in peace. And we’ve come to apologize. Here—”

  “What’s this?” Mimi asked.

  “It’s a peace offering, if you’ll accept it, a Mauro 1998. The clerk at Martin’s Wine Cellar assured me that it’s your favorite. And we’ve brought a couple more bottles of the plain stuff for the meeting”

  “Well, ah ... I-I don’t know quite what to say,” Mimi stammered.

  “Well, I say we pop the cork and have a glass, that is, if you’ll forgive us. We all acted like a bunch of selfish children and we are truly sorry. So—can we let bygones be bygones? Will you forgive us?”

  After what Mimi had told June about Rita that morning and after all of the commotion the women had caused on Friday, Charlotte expected Mimi to tell the three women to take a flying leap. Charlotte did notice that Mimi took her time giving an answer, but after several long, silent moments passed, she finally said, “Why don’t y’all come on back to the kitchen, and I’ll get Charlotte to bring us some glasses. That way, if anyone else shows up early, we won’t be disturned”

  There was a clatter of footsteps in the hallway; then Mimi poked her head in the dining room. “Would you please bring four wine glasses to the kitchen, Charlotte? And if anyone else shows up early, just escort them into the parlor.”

  Charlotte figured she had ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the HHS members began arriving, just enough time to change the sheets on Emma’s and Justin’s beds. She quickly stripped Emma’s bed first, and just as she finished stripping Justin’s bed, she heard the muted raps of the door knocker downstairs. Great. Someone else is early too.

  Bundling up the sheets and pillowcases, she dumped them into the laundry basket that she’d left at the top of the stairs, then hurried down to answer the door.

  Before the next group arrived, Charlotte had just enough time to retrieve the laundry basket and put the linens onto wash. Then, for the next fifteen minutes or so, she spent the time answering the door. With each additional arrival, the noise level rose.

  Buzzing bees. Th
e thought made Charlotte grin as she guided what she figured had to be the last of the HHS members into the parlor, then made sure they had a seat. When she turned to leave, Mimi, followed by Rita, Doreen, and Karen, entered the room.

  Reasonably sure that most of the members except June had arrived, Charlotte eased out of the parlor, then dashed back to the laundry room to switch the linens from the washing machine into the dryer. She figured that if she timed it just right, she could have clean sheets on the stripped beds before the refreshment break or, at the very latest, before the meeting adjourned.

  After putting the linens in to dry, she headed back toward the kitchen.

  When Charlotte entered the kitchen, she caught sight of Rita, just before she disappeared around the hall doorway. Thinking that Rita must have come back to retrieve something she’d left earlier, Charlotte walked over to the sink to rinse her hands. As she reached for the hot-water spigot, her hand froze in midair. Sitting in the dish drainer on top of the cabinet were the four wine glasses that the women had used, four sparkling clean wine glasses.

  Charlotte frowned. Had Rita returned to the kitchen just to wash up the wine glasses? Surely not, especially since she knew good and well that there was a maid on the premises. But then again, maybe she had; maybe she was trying to be helpful, yet another apologetic gesture.

  With an oh-well shrug, Charlotte rinsed her hands and dried them. As she gathered up the wine glasses to return them to the buffet in the dining room and contemplated what to do with the half-empty wine bottle that Mimi had left on the cabinet, she heard the back door open and then close. She turned just in time to see June enter.

  “It’s just me,” June said and laughed as she hurried through the kitchen. “As usual, I’m late,” she called over her shoulder.

  Didn’t the woman ever use the front door? Charlotte wondered.

  Charlotte decided against adding the wine that Rita had brought to the other three bottles on the buffet. Rita had said it was Mimi’s favorite, so Charlotte figured Mimi would want to save it for herself.