Red Julie (An Olivia Miller Mystery Book 2) (13 page)

“I was afraid of that,” Olivia said. “There’s something else. Martin had a gold cross necklace in his possession the night he was in the accident. Had you ever seen him with something like that?”

“A necklace? No. Martin never had it here. Not that I ever saw anyway. He was never fond of jewelry.”

Olivia wasn’t sure what else to ask. Everything seemed to be a dead end. “Can you think of any reason that someone would want to kill Martin?”

“Martin was the best person I’ve ever known,” Paula said. “He was smarter than anyone I ever knew, but what stood out was that he was honest, caring, warm, kind. People were drawn to him.” Paula shook her head. “He must have crossed paths with a crazy person. That’s the only explanation.”

Olivia stood in front of the full length mirror. She was wearing a long, cream colored gown made of silk. The sleeveless dress followed her curves and flared out slightly from the knee to the floor. Tiny buttons covered in cream silk traced down the middle of her back, lending an air of elegance. The neckline dipped slightly and a tiny bit of cleavage showed. She wore her hair half up and half down and the soft chestnut waves fell just below her shoulders. Her makeup was understated. She had lined her lids with dark brown eye pencil and had applied several coats of black mascara which caused her blue eyes to pop. She wore soft pink lipstick. She smiled and walked out to the living room where Joe and Brad were waiting in their tuxedoes.

When she entered the room, Brad gasped and Joe whistled. They gaped at her.

Joe said, “Excuse me, Miss, have you seen Olivia?”

The three of them laughed.

“You look stunning,” Brad told her. She suddenly felt shy in front of him.

“We,” Joe said, “will be the luckiest men at the gala.” He offered his arm to Olivia and the three of them went out to the car.

Brad drove up the long, winding brick driveway edged with perennial beds. The sun was setting and lent a gorgeous glow over the property. The Victorian sat perched high on the bluff, overlooking the ocean. Old fashioned lamplights lined the driveway. Lights were blazing inside the mansion. Tents were set up on the expansive lawn. They could hear live music playing. They turned into the circular drive at the front of the Victorian. A red carpet had been placed on the brick and stone walkways and it stretched out, leading along the side of the building to the lawns in back.

A butler stepped forward and opened Olivia’s door. “Welcome to Bianco Pace,” he said. A valet walked around the front of the car and handed Brad a claim ticket. Joe emerged from the back seat. Another butler carrying a silver tray bowed slightly and offered them flutes of champagne. He gestured to the red carpet, indicating that they should follow the path.

Joe leaned in and said, “Bianco what?”

Brad said, “I think it means something like ‘white peace’ in Italian.”

“Why Italian? I thought they were Russians,” Joe asked. Brad shrugged.

Hundreds of people were already mingling on the lawn. An eight piece orchestra was playing under one of the tents and people were dancing on the wooden floor that had been placed over part of the lawn. Tiny white lights sparkled in the trees and on the underside of the tops of the tents. Urns of flowers and potted plants were scattered all around the area. Another tent held long tables laden with meats, salads, fruits, and desserts. Waiters carried trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres between the crowds. Ice sculptures of Roman emperors stood overlooking the festivities.

“Yikes,” Olivia whispered.

“Someone’s showing off,” Brad said.

The back of the Victorian soared above the bluff. A large veranda ran the full length of the mansion. There were glass French doors open from the house to the porch and two burly men with shaved heads wearing dark suits stood sentry beside the doors. They gazed out to the sea, indifferent to the gathering of people.

“Look at them,” Olivia said.

“Not very friendly looking. What are they expecting? An attack?” Brad laughed.

Magdalene Streeter swept over to them huffing and puffing, sweat beading on her upper lip. “Well, is this not the grandest event in the history of the area?” she boasted as if she was the one who was hosting. She made a beeline for Joe and took him by the arm. “Look at this handsome one,” she crowed. “How nice you clean up, honey.” She batted her eyes at him.

“You look very nice, Magdalene,” Olivia said.

Magdalene had an enormous diamond hanging around her neck. The diamond was held at the center of her throat by strands of yellow and white gold chains.

“What a beautiful necklace,” Olivia observed.

Magdalene’s hand went to her necklace and she puffed up her chest.

Olivia decided to try something. “You have such fine pieces of jewelry. I love that cross necklace I’ve seen you wear.”

Magdalene’s forehead wrinkled. “Cross necklace?”

“Yes. The one that has a skull in the center with the large diamonds.”

Magdalene’s lip curled and she huffed. “Skull? I would never wear such a thing. No matter how large the diamond.”

“I’m mistaken I guess. I must have seen it on someone else.” Olivia caught Joe’s eye and shrugged.

“Well if you see it again, tell the person what poor taste they have.” Magdalene’s eyes swept the finery about them. “Look at this place,” Magdalene said. “Have you ever seen anything like it?” She was nearly breathless over the extravagant display of wealth. “You know, people are saying the owner even had a safe room designed for the basement. With ventilation systems and video surveillance cameras. Very elaborate. A safe room. Can you imagine? Who needs a safe room?” she asked. “Only someone very important, that’s who.” Magdalene adjusted the straps of her gown. “I have to see it. As soon as Mr. Siderov makes his appearance, I will introduce myself to him.”

Olivia, Joe, and Brad exchanged amused glances.

Brad leaned closer to Joe and Olivia. “Poor Mr. Siderov,” he joked.

Magdalene seemed to emerge from her reverie of watching dollar signs dance in her head. She turned to Joe.

“You come along with me and let me introduce you to a few people. And we can have a nice chat.” She started herding Joe into one of the tents. “Let the young people do whatever it is they do.”

Olivia and Brad saw the look of dread that crossed over Joe’s face like he was being led to the slaughterhouse. They stifled laughs and gave Joe a little wave.

“Her reaction about the cross necklace seemed sincere,” Olivia observed.

“Can’t be hers then.” Brad sighed. “So many loose ends.”

Olivia and Brad strolled around the party goers. They sampled some of the food and danced under the tent. Brad went to get some drinks and Olivia stood apart from the crowd, looking out over the water. Brad handed her some champagne.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That’s Martin Andersen’s house. Now it belongs to Rodney Hannigan.” The Victorian was surrounded by lawn, a buffer of trees, and the ocean on three sides, affording a great measure of privacy. The fourth side shared a property boundary with the house that had been owned by the accident victim. The house was perched on its lot at an angle so as to provide the best possible views of the sea. This caused its orientation to slightly face the Victorian. The contemporary house was tall and had walls of glass. There were wide decks projecting out from each of the three levels facing the Victorian.

“Its location must really bug the owner of this place,” Olivia said. “Andersen had quite a nice view of these grounds and the Victorian.”

“Yeah,” said Brad. “From what I’ve heard, this Siderov guy values his privacy.”

A murmur went through the crowd and Brad and Olivia turned their attention back to the tents. A short, stocky middle-aged man had appeared on the veranda. He had blonde short hair and was wearing a well cut dark suit with a white shirt and blue tie. He moved with confidence. The two body guards fell in with him but stayed a step behind.

“Must be our host,” Brad said. Olivia nodded.

Another man emerged from the Victorian through the French doors. Olivia recognized the man as Alexei. He strolled along the veranda and down to the lawn behind the first man and the bodyguards. Siderov moved through the crowd, shaking hands and pausing to speak to some of the guests. Alexei followed along, greeting the people.

“This guy really thinks he’s something special,” Olivia said.

“How about we go dance instead of gawking at his grand entrance?” Brad asked.

Olivia and Brad were enjoying the music and had been dancing together for about a half hour when someone touched Brad on the arm. “Excuse me,” a voice said. Olivia and Brad stopped in mid-step.

Alexei stood to Brad’s side and gazed at Olivia. Ignoring Brad, he said, “May I have a dance with the lovely lady?” Without waiting for a reply, Alexei slid into dancing position and shouldered Brad away. He moved Olivia across the dance floor. She was stiff in his arms.

“You are the most beautiful woman at this gala,” Alexei whispered into Olivia’s ear. “No need to be tense. I am a very good dancer.”

Olivia let out a sigh of exasperation.

Alexei continued. “I’m sorry our time together on the river was so short. I apologize again for my behavior. I appreciate a woman with energy and spirit. Perhaps we can start over. Did you like the flowers I left with you the other night?”

Olivia glared at him. “Have you ever been in my house?”

Alexei looked quizzical. “Why would you ask me that?”

Olivia tried to remove her hand from his, but he held on and pulled her closer with the hand that rested on her back. “I hope you’re not going to be rude to your host.”

“Alexei…” Olivia started.

“Alexei,” a deep voice spoke from behind them. “How do you manage to attract the most beautiful women? And then lose them?” Alexei and Olivia stopped and turned. They were facing Alexei’s father.

“You must introduce me,” the father commanded.

“Of course,” Alexei said. “Father, this is Miss Olivia Miller. Olivia, this is my father, Dmitri Siderov.”

Siderov took Olivia’s hand. He bent slightly forward and nodded. “Miss Miller, it is a pleasure.”

“Thank you,” Olivia told him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Would you honor me with a dance? I’m sure my son would not begrudge me.” Siderov waved his hand dismissively at Alexei. “Go,” he told him. Siderov moved into position and maneuvered Olivia in a slow dance around the floor. Olivia glanced over Siderov’s shoulder, trying to find Brad and hoping for rescue. He was not in sight.

“So, what do you do, Miss Miller?”

“I’m a graduate student,” Olivia answered.

“And what do you study?”

“I’ll be entering law school in the fall,” Olivia said. Siderov slid his hand slightly lower on Olivia’s back. Like father, like son, Olivia thought. She gritted her teeth.

“Excellent. Alexei did graduate study at Harvard. We were pleased with the education. Will you be staying in the area? Where will you be going to school?”

“Stanford,” Olivia lied. She enjoyed telling the Siderovs untruths.

“Very impressive,” Siderov said. He was quiet for a minute as he moved Olivia around the dance floor.

“I hear you had a date with Alexei the other day.”

“I wouldn’t call it a date,” Olivia said.

Siderov ignored her statement. “And Alexei said that it ended quite quickly. What called you away?”

Olivia bristled. “Rude behavior.”

“Yes,” Siderov said. “Rude behavior on your part.”

Olivia’s face went red with anger. She stopped following his lead and rooted her feet to the ground, which threw Siderov off balance. He caught himself from stumbling.

“Don’t you…” Olivia began, rage constricting her throat.

From behind Siderov, Magdalene Streeter stretched out her hand to take Siderov’s arm. Olivia was never so glad to see that flaming red head of hair.

“Oh my,” Magdalene said. “Clumsy girl nearly tripped you.” Magdalene elbowed Olivia out of her way and offered her hand to Siderov. “I’m Magdalene Streeter and I’m one of the committee members who helped organize this gala. I must thank you for your generosity in hosting our event.”

Olivia took the opportunity to make her exit. “Excuse me,” she muttered and strode away past the crowd of dancers. Siderov glared at Olivia as Magdalene prattled on. Olivia stormed out of the dance tent and collided with Alexei.

“Olivia,” he said.

“Not now,” Olivia answered. Her eyes were flashing as she tried to move past him.

Alexei caught her arm and she swiveled to him. “What’s wrong with you? You tell your father everything? Why? So he can intervene and get you whatever you want?”

Party goers heard the angry tone and cast glances at Alexei and Olivia.

“It’s not like that,” Alexei said, lowering his voice. He steered Olivia away from the crowd. “My father is very overbearing. He demands perfection. Everyone lets him down, especially me. He says what he says and then you just have to ignore him. That’s what I’ve tried to do all my life.”

Olivia did not respond.

“Olivia, please. You should pity me. I have to live with him every day.”

Olivia sighed.

“Did you read my note? That I left with the flowers?

“Yes.”

“You didn’t call me.”

“No, I didn’t.” Olivia rubbed her forehead. “I’ve been preoccupied.”

“Have a drink with me,” Alexei said. “Let’s talk. Come on. Just one drink and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

“My God,” Olivia muttered.

Alexei gestured to one of the waiters. The waiter came over and Alexei removed two flutes of champagne from the tray. He handed one to Olivia.

“Walk with me a bit?” he said. “Please. I need a break from all of this.” He seemed defeated.

Olivia weakened. She almost felt bad for him. They headed away from the tents.

Alexei sighed. “Such a pretty night.”

Olivia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“These events can be exhausting.” Alexei sighed again. “Olivia…” he started. “I apologize for…” He waved his hand. “You know…for being a jerk.”

“Just leave it,” she answered. She did not want to discuss it. They looked at the sweeping vista before them. Olivia felt angry and exasperated, but she also felt a tiny bit sorry for Alexei. Olivia got the impression, even from the little time spent with the Siderovs, that they were dissatisfied, defensive, and troubled people. She tried to think of something to say.