Dior or Die (Joanna Hayworth Vintage Clothing Mysteries Book 2) Read Free Page B

the year before. Joanna couldn't quite summon the image of the regal woman on the medical examiner's table, her vibrancy gone. "She didn't strike me as someone who would have a lot of enemies," she said. "Although I guess you never know." She remembered Vivienne's focused gaze from across the auction hall. There probably wasn't much she missed.
    "Why was she auctioning off all her stuff before she died?" Paul rose to tend to the pancakes.
    "Can’t say. Maybe she was downsizing." She remembered Vivienne's crisp dismissal of Eve and smiled. Her smile morphed to a frown. "Poor Vivienne. I wish I could have known her. She moved in completely different circles, but even half an hour and a coffee with her would have been fascinating." She absently drew a heart on the table with her finger. "I wonder if I'll ever get those clothes now."  
    She'd never even touched a Mainbocher suit before, and she nearly had two she could have spent hours examining. The clever cut of the stand-away collar of the Givenchy. Gone. Besides that, without them she couldn't begin paying back the credit line the bank had extended her for the auction.  
    She shifted in the chair. It was still a little early to call Poppy for more information. It wouldn’t hurt to check on her mood, either. She’d seemed so out of it.
    Paul lifted two pancakes to a plate and poured more batter in the pan. "I don’t understand why the police took her things away. Doesn’t make sense to me. What would vintage clothes and furniture have to do with a homicide investigation?"
    Joanna toyed with her fork. "I don’t get it, either."
    You’re worried about the money, aren't you?"
    "Yes. A little."  
    He set the plate of pancakes on the tiny kitchen table. Gemma trotted over, clearly hoping for a scrap. "Do you know if the clothes are actually still yours? I mean, you didn’t take possession of them before the police carted them away. If the clothes aren't really yours, the auction house will have to refund you the money, and you won't have the bank to think about at all."
    "No way. They’re mine. I have the receipt and everything." She shook her head. "I want those dresses even if I have to sell a kidney to get them."  
    "That’s my girl," he said. "Undaunted. We’ll work out the money angle one way or another."
    "In the meantime, more coffee, please." She reached up to scratch where the rough wool brushed against her shoulder.
    "You bet. That robe itches, doesn't it? Why don't you bring over one of your own?"
    "Maybe I will." Embarrassed, her gaze slipped to her plate.
    "Not to rush you. It took long enough to get you here in the first place." He rose and kissed her ear, and she laughed. "Not that I’m complaining."
    "You’re a patient man," she said. "A patient man who could use a shave."
    "Still a little shy, but we’re making progress." He reached over to refill her cup. "Now, if I could just get you to bring over a robe—"
    "Yellow light," she said, their pet term for "caution," but she smiled when she said it. Her smile faded. "Something is wrong with Poppy, too. I’m sure."
    "From what you told me last night, she doesn’t want to talk about it." He dropped a hand to scratch Gemma. "Do you want to give her a call? You can borrow my phone."
    "Thank you."  
    "You must be the last person in the country without a cell phone," he said with affection. "You and some Amish people."
    Joanna took his phone from the counter and punched in Poppy's number with her thumb. Cellphones felt so flimsy, not like the solid princess phone she had at home.  
    Poppy answered on the first ring.  
    "I hope it’s not too early to call. I thought I’d see if the police gave you any updates when they left. I mean, they left, right?"
    Poppy sighed. "Eventually. They let me keep the furniture, but they practically took it apart first. They hauled out Vivienne’s wardrobe, though."
    "They didn’t give you any idea of when they’d release it?"
    "No." Poppy’s voice was flat.