Dead Is Just a Rumor (11 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Things were winding down
as far as Nightshade's anniversary. I was scheduled for one more volunteer session for the big party. I pulled up to the Wilder estate, prepared to spend the day at Sam's beck and call.

Jordan and Rachel were sitting on the floor and a tarp was spread out in front of them. They were painting a large mural of cartoony ghosts, goblins, and witches.

"For the kids' tables," Jordan explained. "Samantha didn't want anything too scary for them."

I understood the theory, even though some of the toddlers who lived in Nightshade were more frightening than any of Sam's scariest decorations.

"I brought snacks," I said, and held up a pan of brownies. "This is the recipe Circe said wasn't up to her standards."

"That's not very nice!" Jordan said.

They each grabbed a brownie and bit into it.

Samantha approached and grabbed one for herself. "These are delicious. Circe doesn't know what she's talking about." She took a delicate nibble and stared into space. I knew that look.

"In fact," she said. "Would you help me finalize the menu for the dance?"

"Isn't Circe catering it?" Rachel asked.

"Most of it," Sam said. "She's serving a bunch of fancy stuff. But I want something that the kids will actually eat."

"Why not ask Slim to cater burgers and fries? He could use the business."

"That's a great idea," Samantha said. "The city council wants the dance to be for everybody in Nightshade, not just the adults."

It seemed like just about everything was in place for the anniversary party, except for one thing. What was I going to wear? In the last few weeks I'd been so preoccupied, I hadn't even thought about it. But Samantha had a surprise for me.

"I found the perfect dress for you!" she said. "Come see." Samantha wasn't psychic, but sometimes she could read my mind.

She dragged me to another storage room, where trunks in all shapes and sizes were scattered throughout. There was also a large mahogany armoire pushed into the corner, and that's where Sam headed.

She pulled out a couple of dresses. "I thought I'd wear this one," she said, holding up a black flapper gown.

"It looks really old," I said. "Like it belongs in a museum somewhere. Are you sure Mrs. Wilder won't mind?"

"I asked her and she said it was fine to borrow whatever we could find in storage," she said.

"You'll be gorgeous," I said. The black beaded silk dress would be perfect with Samantha's pale hair.

She danced a little jig. "I know," she said. "But wait until you see
your
dress."

She dug through the armoire until she found what she was looking for. She held out a lavender and white dress, which looked vaguely Victorian in style. It was beautiful, but something made me say, "It's gorgeous, Sam, but can I see what else is in there?"

She stepped aside, not at all disappointed that I didn't want to commit to the dress she'd picked out for me.

I stuck my head into the armoire. It was bursting with clothing from the past. I hesitated in front of a long slinky thirties gown of white satin but kept looking.

An hour later, I'd made my way to the very back of the armoire and had almost given up. I was hot and sweaty and covered with dust and I didn't know what else.

There was one last dress hanging in the back. When I touched its sleeve, a zing went through me and I knew I'd found what I was looking for.

I pulled it out carefully.

Sam looked at me. "It's made for you," she said.

I sucked in my breath. "You can't be serious," I said. "I can't wear that. It can't possibly fit me."

"Try it on," Samantha urged.

I touched the gossamer fabric. "Okay," I said. I folded it over my arm and carefully carried it to where there was better light. The thought of getting even a speck of dust on it made me queasy.

It was midnight blue, with a square bodice and an ivory satin underskirt. There were little silk flowers at the waist and ivory embroidery at the wrists and hem.

I couldn't bear to let that gorgeous dress out of sight.

"Hurry back," Samantha said.

Instead, I got lost. In my defense, the Wilder place was huge and full of empty corridors and twisting staircases and rooms that led nowhere.

I finally found a bathroom and slipped in to clean up. I tried on the dress, holding my breath until it slid on. It fit like it was made for me.

I wadded up the clothes I'd been wearing and headed in the direction I thought would lead me back to Sam. Instead, I came face-to-face with Mrs. Wilder.

"Is it really you?" she said. "Lily?"

"Mrs. Wilder? I'm sorry I startled you," I said. "It's Daisy. Daisy Giordano."

"You looked so much like her for a moment," she said. "And that dress. Where did you find it?"

"Like who?" I asked. "Who do I look like?" But she didn't answer.

She held out a hand and touched the soft fabric of the dress. "She was so young and in love," she said softly.

"Who was?"

"Someone I knew a very long time ago," Mrs. Wilder said. She was lost in thought and I stood rooted to the spot, not sure if I should leave or just wait for her to say something else. Finally, she sighed and seemed to recall where she was.

"Samantha said it was okay for me to borrow this for the anniversary party," I said. I gestured toward the gown, secretly praying that she wouldn't order me to take it off immediately.

She smiled. "You look lovely in the dress, Daisy," she said. "Please wear it and have a magical night."

"Mrs. Wilder, thank you so much. It's such a beautiful gown."

Her expression sharpened and she changed the subject abruptly. "Bianca tells me that you've been getting cooking lessons from Circe as part of some contest."

"Yes, ma'am, I have," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"You enjoy cooking?" she said, clearly perplexed by the idea.

"I really do," I replied.

"I never learned," she said. "And Circe has been kind to you?"

I hesitated, not sure what to say and finally settled on a polite phrase. "I've been learning a lot."

"Hmph," she said. "I expect a clever girl like you knows to be on guard with Circe Silvertongue. But if you have any difficulties, please come see me at once."

"I will," I promised. "But why would you..." My voice trailed off as soon as I remembered I was talking to the matriarch of the most powerful shifter family in town. Even her granddaughter Elise scared me.

"Why would I hire someone as volatile as Circe? Because everyone deserves a second chance," she said softly.

I met her eyes for a moment, but then shied away from the depths of knowledge I saw in them.

"Well, thanks again for the dress," I said. I backed away and then practically ran to find Samantha.

Wandering the halls of the Wilder estate could be hazardous to your health. Or at least to your peace of mind.

Sam was in the room we used as our anniversary party headquarters. She was standing in front of the portrait of the young woman we had seen earlier.

"What are you doing with that?" I asked.

"I want to bring it over to Merriweather House," she said. "It'll be perfect over the marble fireplace."

"It will look great there," I said.

"Did you notice anything else?" she asked.

"She's wearing my dress!" I said. "I mean, the dress I'm borrowing for the party."

"Exactly," she said. "I think we should style your hair like she's wearing it in the painting."

"I think I will," I said. I took another long look at the girl and then flipped the painting over. Lily was written on the back. The name hadn't really registered before. Lily, the name Mrs. Wilder had called me. Her sister.

A shiver traveled down my spine. There was something creepy about wearing Lily's dress.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was finally Halloween,
and the anniversary party. Slim had assured me several times that he could handle the kids' buffet. "Go have fun," he said. I canceled my cooking lesson with Circe that day, knowing it would just turn into indentured servitude. Slim was right. I needed a day to just kick back and have fun.

I took one more look in the mirror. The blue and ivory gown suited my coloring, and Poppy had managed to style my hair in an approximation of the girl's in the painting.

I wore ivory ballet flats and simple gold jewelry. Silver was out of the question, at least if I wanted to slow dance with my boyfriend.

Samantha was absolutely gorgeous in the black flapper dress. She twirled around and the crystal beads sparkled as she moved. "What do you think?"

"You're stunning," I said.

"Not so bad yourself," she said. We exchanged smiles.

We had to be at Merriweather House early, even though a bunch of women from the garden club had volunteered to do setup.

"Is your dad coming tonight?" I asked her as we prepared for the big evening. I didn't ask about her mother, who rarely came to Nightshade since the divorce.

She made a face. "Yes, and he's bringing a date."

"A date?" I don't know why it came as a shock. Sam's parents had been apart for a long time and the women of Nightshade seemed to think he looked like George Clooney. "With who?"

"He won't tell me. Says he wants it to be a surprise."

Mom knocked on the door. "Daisy, the boys are here."

"We'll be down in a minute, Mom," I said.

I stuck my head out my door. "Poppy, we're leaving now. Are you coming with us?" I called out.

"No thanks," she replied. "I'm still getting ready. I've got a ride, so you guys go ahead."

She was probably riding with Nicholas and Rose. I hoped Poppy would find a new guy soon. I worried that she was still moping over Gage.

I spritzed on a little perfume and Samantha primped a few minutes longer. Then she sat down on the bed.

"Aren't you ready?" I asked.

"We need to make an entrance," she said.

I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up. "The heck with an entrance," I said. "I want to see my boyfriend."

Ryan and Sean both wore plain black tuxedos, paired with snowy white shirts. But when I leaned upto give my boyfriend a kiss, I noticed his tie. It was a plain dark black, but a spider dangling from a web was embroidered into the fabric.

"Nice tie," I said. I smoothed my hand over the fabric.

He grinned at me. "I needed something festive for Halloween and Sam vetoed the pumpkin ties."

That's when I noticed that Sean had on the same exact tie.

"That's a relief," I said.

"Have I told you how gorgeous you look?" Ryan said. "That dress is amazing."

"I know, huh?" Samantha said. "She's devastating in that dress."

"We're going to be devastatingly late if we don't get a move-on," I pointed out, uncomfortable with the compliment fest coming from my best friend and boyfriend.

The ballroom was tastefully, yet festively, decorated in deep purple, white, and black. Tall candelabra flanked the buffet table, and fairy lights twinkled from every available pillar and piece of greenery. The entire population of Nightshade, the normal and the paranormal, were out in full force, the women in long gowns and the men in tuxedos or suits.

There were several round tables set with white linens, fancy china, and fine cutlery. There wasn't anything silver in the room, as a courtesy to the Were residents in Nightshade.

"Samantha, you did a fantastic job," I said.

"I was going for eerily elegant," she said.

"You succeeded," I said. "It's creepy cool."

I spotted the pile of sugar skulls that I'd slaved over, next to a large crystal punch bowl filled with some mysterious brew, which was steaming. Dry ice. Probably.

"You don't know how hard it was to make sure we didn't have any silver around," Sam said. "Or garlic."

"Is that true—that vampires can't stand garlic?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't going to find a vampire to ask, but I didn't want to take the chance."

Sean said, "C'mon, let's find a table. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," Samantha said.

"Kids' buffet or adult?" I said to Ryan.

"Are you kidding?" he said. "I'll take Slim's over Circe's cooking any day."

"Shh, not too loud," I said. But secretly I agreed with him.

Slim and Natalie were working the buffet. Natalie wore a simple dark green dress, and Slim wore a long-sleeved tuxedo T-shirt and black tuxedo pants and had a long black scarf wrapped around his neck. A black fedora was pulled down low over where his face would normally be, and he wore black gloves, to serve the food. If you didn't look too closely, you might not even notice he was invisible.

He caught me staring at his shirt. "Shh, it's Flo's," he said. "I borrowed it for tonight."

"And he better not get anything on it, either," Flo said.

She was standing next to me, wearing what looked to be a fortune in diamonds. Her hair was piled high, and she wore a long white satin dress from the forties.

"You like it?" she asked. The front of the dress was modest, but when she twirled, the back of the dress was bare, falling to a puddle at the curve of her spine. Her tattoos swirled and danced to the music.

"You're breathtaking," her date said. It was Vinnie Leon. The drummer from Side Effects May Vary looked very dapper in his red shirt, checkered pants, suspenders, and spats.

I glanced at the fifties room, not far from Slim's buffet, and noticed a familiar-looking shape.

"Is that...?" I said, pointing to the item in the corner.

"The one and only," Flo said. It was Lil, spinning singles appropriate for a sock hop. "Samantha asked to borrow her, to add some authenticity to the fifties room."

"Sounds like she's still upset about something," I said, recognizing the pouty song "Party Lights" by little Claudine Clark blaring from the side room.

"I don't know why," Slim said. "She should feel right at home at Merriweather House. I bought her at an estate sale here."

I was stunned by this news, but before I had time to ask Slim more questions, we were interrupted by Penny and her date. I almost didn't recognize her. She wore a simple long white dress with gold embroidery on the hem and bodice. It was head and shoulders above the kind of outfit Penny usually wore.

"Penny, you look amazing," I said.

"Really?" she said shyly. "It was my grandma's dress."

"You're gorgeous," Sam affirmed. "Tyler certainly seems to think so."

"Thanks," Penny said, blushing prettily. Her date was Tyler, from my nutrition class.

Penny was carrying the La Contessa bag, and I took the opportunity to grill her about it. "I love your purse," I said. "Where did you get it? It looks expensive."

She giggled. "You wouldn't believe where I got it."

"Where?" I said, holding my breath.

"The swap meet," she said. "It's a copycat. But don't tell anyone."

Tyler didn't say much, but he grinned the entire time. He was clearly pleased to be Penny's escort for the evening.

We saw Mom and Dad as we headed back to get a table. I waved and they made their way over to us. He shook hands with Ryan. My father was making an effort, but I could tell he still wasn't comfortable with the fact that I was in a serious relationship.

Ryan picked up on my dad's mood and quickly offered to get my parents some punch.

Dad wore a white dinner jacket and black trousers and my mother looked absolutely dazzling in a simple black sheath and classic pearls.

"Very Jackie O," Sam said approvingly.

"Who's Jackie O?" Sean said.

Sam shook her head in despair at her boyfriend's lack of historical fashion sense.

"Think you can spare a burger for your dad?" my father asked me.

"What's wrong with your meal?" I said. "Circe trained at the Cordon Bleu."

"There's nothing
wrong
with it," Dad said. "I just don't want to eat her food." He shuddered theatrically. "There are truffles in practically everything."

I put a burger on his plate and then added some fries. "Okay, but you owe me," I said.

Mom giggled, but Dad gave me a grateful smile. "You're my favorite daughter."

"You say that to all of us," I reminded him.

Ryan came back with the punch.

"Thank you, Ryan," Mom said. Then to Dad, she said, "Let's leave these kids alone. I see the garden club chairperson and I need to say hi."

Later, after we'd stuffed ourselves on Slim's delicious food, we took a stroll outside. Ryan took every opportunity to find dark corners and kiss me senseless.

When we got back, the tables had been cleared away, to make room for dancing, and a tuxedoed band (not Side Effects May Vary, unfortunately) was setting up its instruments.

Rose and Nicholas arrived, wearing late-1800s period costumes. Her dress was pale pink and was trimmed with white silk roses.

Poppy was with them and evidently had a date. She wore a short black dress that looked like it was made sometime in the eighties, with black heels adorned with red satin bows.

Her date loitered in the background, but I saw her put out a hand and touch his arm once. I couldn't wait to get her alone and ask her who he was.

Mr. Devereaux walked into the ballroom. He looked dapper in a designer tux, but it was the woman clinging to his arm who made me stop and stare.

I nudged Sam. "Your dad brought
Ms. Tray?
"

She winced. "That's his surprise?" she asked in a whisper. "She scares me."

"Me, too," I said.

"Who is that with your dad?" Poppy asked Sam.

"Our guidance counselor," Samantha explained.

"Isn't she just the cutest little thing?" Rose said sarcastically, in a fake southern drawl.

"She's the bane of my existence," I said. "She's the one who had a chat with Dad about my future."

"Isn't that her job?" Poppy replied.

"Not the way she does it," I said. "That's what made him ground me!"

Just then Dad approached our group. "You kids talking about me?" he asked. Then he saw where we were looking, and he said, "Hey, isn't that—"

Ms. Tray wore a shiny red micro-mini dress and white go-go boots. Definitely not the best look for the over thirty crowd. Her hair was teased to the sky, and it looked like she had killed a couple of black widows and plastered them on her eyes.

"Rafe," she trilled at my father. "What a pleasure to see y'all here. When Spenser told me you were old friends, I couldn't wait to come to this event."

Mr. Devereaux and my dad did one of those half hug/half handshake things that guys did.

"Her southern accent is slipping," Sam observed.

"Her accent is as phony as she is," I replied.

We turned our attention back to the grownups' conversation. Ms. Tray still had the floor, and even my mother looked a trifle impatient.

My father muttered something unintelligible, but it didn't slow the counselor down.

"Spenser has done such an excellent job with Sabrina. I thought you could get the two girls together. Sabrina could be such a positive influence on Daisy."

Even Mr. Devereaux rolled his eyes at that one. The guidance counselor was obviously clueless.

"
Samantha
"—Mr. Devereaux emphasized his daughter's name—"and Daisy have been friends since grade school."

Ms. Tray eventually caught on that nobody was buying her concerned act. "Well," she said lamely. "Isn't that nice?"

"Yes, it is," my father said. "We're very proud of both the girls."

"But—" Ms. Tray started to say something, but Mr. Devereaux gently pulled her away and onto the dance floor.

Dad stared after them. "That woman is a menace."

"I couldn't agree more," Mom said, returning from her chat with the garden club members. "Now, come dance with me." She took his hand and they joined the other dancers.

Ryan took me by the hand and spun me around. "Feel like dancing?"

"I'd love to," I said.

There was a big commotion when Circe came out, still in her white chef's jacket, to mingle with the crowd. Someone started clapping until everyone joined in.

Circe took a low bow, but then straightened abruptly when she saw me. She strode over and grabbed my arm. "Where did you get that dress?" she said.

I twisted my arm away from her. "Mrs. Wilder said I could borrow it," I said. "Why do you care?"

Her eyes turned a furious green and I took a step back. She started to say something, but then noticed that everyone was watching her. She forced a smile. "You look ... lovely," she said through clenched teeth.

At that moment, the bandleader announced that they were taking a break. With one last glare, Circe returned to the kitchen.

I was shaken by my confrontation with Circe. I retreated to the fifties room with Ryan and fed Lil a quarter. A song I'd never heard before came on. It was simply piano music, in a plunking, upbeat melody.

Mr. Todeschi, Nightshade High's band instructor, was also in the room. His face lit up and his toe tapped in time to the music.

"Do you know what song this is?" I asked him.

"Why, it's a Scott Joplin rag," he said.

"What?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"It was written in the early 1900s," he explained.

"Do you know the name of it?" Ryan said.

"Let me think," Mr. Todeschi said. "It'll come to me in a minute."

We were all quiet while he tried to remember. Lil had to have a reason to play the song.

He snapped his fingers. "I've got it. I'm pretty sure it's 'Lily Queen.'"

"
Lily Queen"?
Lily was the name of the girl in the painting. Mrs. Wilder's sister.

Balthazar came trotting in. He seemed to be drawn to the music. His tail moved in time to the music. He went up to the jukebox and nuzzled it with his nose.

Lil shimmied and shook. I thought I saw a faint form of a woman floating in the air, next to the jukebox, but before I could say anything to Ryan, it disappeared. It must have been a trick of the candlelight or something.