Grave Apparel (17 page)

Ah, the
office
holiday par
ty!
Socializing with
those
wacky coworkers who drive you crazy all day! It sounds

like
such
a
good
idea,
so
festive
and
carefree.
Oh,
it
doesn’t?
Why?
Because
it’s
really
just
an
extension
of
your
workday,
a
little
more
relaxed,
and
a
little
more
dan
gerous.
Y
our
office
persona
and
performance
are
still
on
display,
but
you
may
be
off
your
guard.

Y
our
bottom
line
(which
should
be
covered
completely
by
your
little
black
dress,
by
the
way):
Appropriate
party
wear
shows
respect
for
yourself
and
your
host.
At
the
of
fice
par
ty
,
your
host
is
your
boss.
Y
eah,
no
stress
there.
What
you
wear
can
speed
your
way
to
the
top.
Or
out
the
door
.

Happy Holidays!

“Here she is!” Harlan
Wiedemeyer,
a
bundle
of
nerves
over
wrought from
love,
came running
down
the hall with Felicity Pickles in
tow
and nearly ran
Vic
and
Lacey
down.
He shook a branch of mistletoe
over
Felicity’s
head and kissed her
awk
wardly.
They
both
blushed.
“Have
mistletoe
will
travel,”
Wiedemeyer
declared.

Is
this
really
Felicity?
Lacey wondered.
The festive
Felicity,
shameless
purveyor
of
seasonal
excess?
The
woman
looked
un commonly subdued for the
office
Christmas
party.
Felicity’s
sleeveless
red
wool
dress made her
large
arms look shockingly white. She
wore
a pair of
shiny
Christmas balls at her ears. That
was
it. No singing
reindeer,
no dancing
elves,
no tinsel. No alu
minum
Christmas
tree.
Felicity
looked
like
the
Grinch
had
stolen her Christmas.

“Gee. Nice dress,
Felicity,”
Lacey
said.
“Very,
um,
tasteful.”

Felicity
looked
daggers at
Lacey.
“This is not what I planned to
wear.
I mean I
was
going to wear it,
but
there
was
more.
”
She
looked
distressed. “Something really
special.”

“But you look
lovely,
buttercup,”
Wiedemeyer
protested.
“Someone
stole
my
sweater!”
Felicity
roared.
“My
new Christmas sweater that goes with this dress. I had to special order it months ago, and
it’s
gone.”
She turned to
Wiedemeyer.
“It
was
at my desk and someone stole it! I
can’t
believe
it. Who
would
do that to me?”

“But
everyone
loves
you,”
her distraught
boyfriend
insisted.

It
was
all too clear where this
was
going.
Lacey
felt
Vic’s
hand on
her
shoulder
again.
He
knew
what
she
was
thinking.

“That sweater of yours,
Felicity,
it
wouldn’t
be bright red, with an embroidered string of Christmas bulbs that
actually
light up,
like
Harlan’s
antlers,
would
it?”

Felicity’s
eyes
went wide.
“Yes!
It does.
It’s
beautiful!”
“And
does it play ‘Jingle Bells’?”
Lacey’s
bad feeling
was
getting
worse.

“That’s
it!
That’s
it!
Have
you seen it?” “Oh yes.
Unfortunately,
I think I
have.”

Tony
and his date rejoined the group. Linda Sue
seductively
draped one arm around his shoulders.
Tony
took her hand and kissed it
absently.

“What did I miss?” Linda Sue said. “I’m all
ears.”

“And
Wiedemeyer’s
all
antlers,”
Tony
added.
“Now
me, I’m
all—”

“I
think
I saw
it
earlier.”
Lacey
knew
she
shouldn’t
talk
about it,
but
she
was
too curious
now
to
obey
Claudia’s
gag
order
against
spreading
the
bad
tidings
and
ruining
the
Christ
mas
party.
Besides,
Lacey
was
a
reporter.
Gag
order?
What
gag
order?

“Tell
me!” Felicity
was
in her
face.
“What did you see?”
Lacey
looked
around to see who might be lurking and
eaves
dropping.
Even
this
far
corner of the Press Club
was
filling
up
with
black
tuxedos
and
a
rainbow
of
recycled
bridesmaid’s
dresses.

“Cassandra
Wentworth
was
attacked
in the
alley
tonight be hind
The
Eye
.
When I
saw
her she
was
wearing your
sweater,
Felicity.
Or one that
looked
remarkably
like
it.”

Felicity’s
mouth dropped open. “My sweater? But Cassan dra hates my sweaters. I
don’t
get
it.”

Peter Johnson, on his
way
to the
bar,
overheard
and
elbowed
his
way
into the circle.
“What’s
this about Cassandra? What
happened
to
her?”
He
grabbed
Lacey’s
shoulders
with
both
hands and
was
about to
shake
her.
“Tell
me!”

Vic
intervened
with
one
practiced
arm.
Without
even
spilling his beer he
moved
Johnson about three feet
straight
back. “If you
want
to speak to Ms. Smithsonian
you’ll
do it re
spectfully,”
Vic
said, his former chief of police persona
emerg
ing. “By that I mean in a tone of respect. And without using your hands. Am I clear?”

Johnson gulped. He
was
no match for the muscular Dono
van
in
any
dimension, and he
wasn’t
used to being treated so
physically.
He
was
used
to
getting
away
with
bullying
people verbally
under the protection of the
Fourth
Estate.
Lacey
re flected that this
boyfriend
business
had some major pluses. She introduced the
two
of them. Johnson
offered
his hand to
Vic
hesitantly,
as if he were a little uncertain whether
he’d
get it back.
Vic
shook hands, then indicated Johnson could
now
ad dress
Lacey.
Respectfully.

“Ms.
Smithsonian,”
Johnson
said
carefully,
tucking
his
hands behind his back, “
please
inform me!
What’s
all this about Cassandra?”

She related the basics. He absorbed the story with a grim
face
and announced his intention to rush to
Cassandra’s
side and do something,
anything.

“She
was
unconscious,”
Lacey
said, “and
she’s
probably still in the
emergency
room or
intensive
care.
They
probably
won’t
even
let you see her
yet.”

“Nothing you can do for her right
now,
Johnson,”
Vic
said.
“Time
to let the cops do their
thing.”

“You
didn’t
follow
the
ambulance?”
Johnson demanded of
Lacey.

“No. There
was
nothing I could do,
Peter.
Or
you.”

“We’ll
see about
that.”
Johnson stormed out to play Cassan
dra’s
knight in shining
armor,
or her belated knight in
faded
corduroy.

Wiedemeyer
watched
all
this
with
amazement.
“Holy
tamale! That drip
Johnson’s
got the hots for Cassandra
Went
worth?
Poor bastard!” He hit the replay
button
on his reindeer
antlers,
and
the
lights
started
flashing
again.
The
antlers
played
“Deck the
Halls.”
Felicity
looked
as if she were in shock.

A smile played
over
Trujillo’s
lips.
“Ah,
they say
there’s
someone for
every
poor bastard,
Wiedemeyer.
You
think
that’s
true, amigo?
Felicity,
what do you think?”

“I
don’t
know,”
Felicity
said.
“Why
would
she
steal
my
sweater?”

“Oh, I just
love
romance,”
Linda Sue said.
“And
all this
ex
citement! My goodness, this is an interesting party y’all
throw
here. And by the
way,
Lacey,
that is a darlin’ dress.
Absolutely
darlin’!
Where
on
earth
did
you
get
it?
It
looks
positively
vintage.
”