Half-Price Homicide Read Free Page A

business. A little cream puff like you wouldn’t understand.”
    “I’m not stupid!” Chrissy said. “I know about those three thousand new jobs Danny’s project will bring to the city. And the house with the seven toilets. It’s not exactly the House of the Seven Gables, is it?”
    “Shut up!” Danny said, his voice dangerously low.
    “Danny can’t afford to get rid of me, can you?” Chrissy said. “He tells me everything.”
    “If he told you everything, he’d tell you why he spends so much time with me,” Loretta said. “I can’t see why you shop here, Chrissy. With all Danny’s money, he could buy this store.”
    “Hey!” Danny said, stepping toward her. “I’ll barely break even on the Orchid House project.”
    “Right,” Loretta said. “That’s why you’re fighting so hard for that height variance. For nothing.”
    This fight was too good to watch from a distance, Helen thought. She slid behind a clothes rack near the dressing room and started buttoning shirts.
    Vera, the shop owner, broke up the discussion. She took Danny’s arm and dragged him to a rack of men’s shoes. “I have some wonderful Bruno Maglis,” she said.
    “I don’t wear used shoes,” Danny said. “They’re disgusting.”
    “They’re new,” Vera said. “These are four hundred dollars, Danny, and I’m selling them for less than a hundred. I think they’ll fit you.” She slid shoes the size of sleds into Danny’s hands.
    Next, Vera steered Chrissy toward the dresses. “Try on this pretty cotton dress. It’s cool, but simple.”
    “Perfect for a simple person,” Loretta said.
    “Ladies!” Vera sounded like a disapproving schoolteacher. “Chrissy, you are the wife of a major developer caught in a controversy. You can’t be seen fighting.” She handed her the dress and pushed her toward the back dressing room next to her office.
    “But—,” Chrissy began.
    “It doesn’t hurt to try it on,” Vera interrupted.
    “Wait!” Chrissy grabbed Vera’s arm and dropped her voice. Helen leaned closer and heard Chrissy say, “Don’t tell him about our deal, please. You can keep the Prada purse. I don’t care if I get any money for it. But he can’t find out.”
    “I know how to keep secrets or I wouldn’t be in this business,” Vera said. She shut the dressing room door on the desperate Chrissy, then dashed back to Loretta.
    “You, dear, are an elected official who must behave as well as she dresses,” Vera said. “Come see my new things. I haven’t put them out yet. Perhaps I can find you a little extra tact.”
    Loretta docilely followed Vera into her office.
    Vera stopped at the curtain to the back room and said, “Helen, forget those shirts. I see dust on those shelves next to the dressing room. Clean them now.”
    More dusting. Helen tried not to sigh. She picked up a Limoges pineapple lightly coated with gray fur and wiped it down. Why did rich people think this junk was ornamental? she thought sourly.
    She’d dusted a graceful Blue Willow bowl and shined six Venetian wineglasses when the doorbells jingled.
    Helen recognized this new customer. Jordan lived in Helen’s apartment complex. She practically haunted Snapdragon’s. Jordan had straight dark hair, slanted green eyes and a long nose that made her look rather like an anteater. A stylish anteater. She shimmied in, wearing a summer dress tight as a tourniquet.
    “Helen!” she said. “Any new cocktail dresses from Paris Hilton?”
    “Going someplace special?” Helen asked.
    Jordan dropped her voice and said, “I’ve found a man, a special man. He wants to take me clubbing in South Beach. Paris’s clothes would be perfect.”
    “But what about—?” Helen said, then stopped. Jordan was living with Mark. But that was Mark’s problem, not hers.
    “What? ” Jordan asked.
    “The price,” Helen finished. “Paris left two dresses, but they’re three hundred each.”
    “Don’t worry. I can get the money from Mark. A girl has