The Deep End (A Saints & Strangers Cozy Mystery Book 2) (11 page)

Kit groaned and snatched a champagne flute from a passing server. She didn’t want to hear any more about her mother’s selfless actions. It was nauseating. Every time she heard one of these tales, she wanted to provide a counterstory, like the time she fell off her horse in third grade. Her mother had been more concerned about the horse’s state of mind than her concussed daughter.

A couple came and stood beside Mrs. Goodington. Although Kit didn’t recognize them, between her pearls and newswoman haircut and his yacht club persona, she was fairly certain that they were Pilgrim Society.

Mrs. Goodington ushered them closer. “Ah, Dorothy and Clyde, may I introduce you to Rebecca and Charlotte Tilton, the hostesses of this fine event.”

Romeo tapped Kit on the shoulder and gestured for her to step away. “I’d like to tour the rooms,” he whispered. “Do a little eavesdropping.”

Kit nodded mutely and slipped away from the group without anyone noticing.

“Thank you for including us,” Clyde said to the sisters. “We were so sorry to hear about your father.” He paused. “And his wife, too, of course.”

“Such an untimely passing,” Dorothy agreed. “Have they caught the nasty culprit?”

“I’m afraid not,” Rebecca said with a quick glance at Romeo’s back as he walked away.

“Your father was such a pillar of the community,” Clyde continued. “You must still be feeling his absence.”

“Every day, Clyde,” Rebecca replied. “Thank you for your kind words.”

Dorothy leaned forward and whispered, “We know a good lawyer if you’re interested in pursuing your estate.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Rebecca said.

“Oh, and here is our goddaughter now,” Clyde said. “We were so pleased when she asked to pay us a visit this weekend. We haven’t seen her in ages.”

A young woman approached holding a flute of champagne. She wore a pinched expression and Charlotte took an instant dislike to her.

“Kristy, my love, you must meet our wonderful hostesses,” Dorothy said.

Kristy looked from Rebecca to Charlotte. “Thank you so much for including me tonight. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you both.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said. “We’re pleased to see such an amazing turnout.”

“It was perfect timing. I don’t often make it down to Pennsylvania. It’s hard enough to keep up with your own family, let alone someone else’s.” Kristy smiled at Dorothy, all teeth and no emotion.

While Kristy yammered on about nothing, Charlotte’s gaze wandered around the room to see where Kit and Romeo had gone. She was already bored and ready to go home and read a book. She appreciated that people were here to support her father’s cause, but she wasn’t in the mood to socialize. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

Across the room, Kit spotted her cousin, Crispin Winthrop. Like Kit, he’d taken a different path from the one his family intended, although his parents seemed less vindictive about it than Heloise.

“Crispin,” Kit called with a frantic wave.

“You’re looking beautiful tonight, cousin,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. He gestured to man across the room snapping photographs. “Should we include you in the society pages?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’d rather use my selfie stick. If I ended up in the society pages, Mother will probably use it as a calling card for Westdale’s eligible bachelors.” Kit grabbed his wrist. “There aren’t any Breedloves lurking around, are there?”

“None that I’ve seen,” he replied. “I saw your detective friend roaming the premises. Did you come together?”

Kit couldn’t keep the color from rising to her cheeks. “We did. He’s keeping his eyes and ears open for talk of Jasmine Tilton.”

Crispin nodded. “We did a story about her. Did you read it?” Kit struggled to find an answer that wouldn’t insult him. He waved her off. “That’s okay. I can compare notes with Romeo, if he wants to. I may have turned up information he doesn’t have.”

“Doubtful, but I’ll let him know.”

“Is that Francie Musgrove?” he asked, nodding toward the craps table. “She looks different. Her hair maybe.”

“Everybody looks different when they’re dressed up,” she told him. She cast him a sly look. “Why don’t we go over and say hello?”

He readily agreed and they maneuvered through the throng of gamblers until they reached Francie. Kit caught the fleeting of look of anxiety that passed over her classic features. Boy, she really had a thing for Crispin.

“Francie, you really brighten this place up,” Crispin said.

“My red dress helps,” Kit added, eager to be included in any praise getting tossed around. No one ever said actresses were without ego.

“Thank you, Crispin,” Francie said. “You look very handsome. Is that Hugo Boss?” She ran a finger down the lapel of his jacket.

“It is,” he beamed. “I have a weakness for his clothes.”

“And for blondes,” Kit mumbled and then coughed to cover it up. “I think Romeo is calling me over,” she lied. “If you’ll excuse me…” She darted away before either one could stop her.

On her way to find Romeo, she was intercepted by Huntley.

“There you are, Sassafras,” he drawled. He wore his standard bow tie and Canali suit. Huntley was a Southern gentleman through and through. “Your dear mother has been searching for you.”

Kit caught sight of her mother at one of the craps tables, rolling the dice with an elegant flick of her bony wrist, surrounded by a group of Westdale’s well-dressed sycophants.

“Is that so?” Kit had already been skeptical of her mother’s alleged interest in her whereabouts. As long as Kit was towing the Winthrop Wilder party line and keeping up appearances, Heloise wasn’t overly concerned with Kit’s interactions.

Huntley followed her gaze and adjusted his bow tie in a show of discomfort. “I’ll let her know you’re here, shall I?”

“You do that, Huntley.” Kit turned on her heel and made a beeline for Charlotte and Rebecca, who were still deep in conversation with Dorothy and Clyde. Anything to avoid her mother.

“…and her wedding was at the Plaza,” Dorothy was saying. “Well, you know what that must cost. Except it was on a Sunday in February. I’m sure her father made some kind of deal. He’s just the type.”

Rebecca caught Kit’s eye and gave her a forced smile. She wanted to warn her away but there was no gesture she could make that wouldn’t be obvious to an astute woman like Dorothy.

“All this talk of weddings,” Dorothy exclaimed.

Upon hearing the word ‘wedding’ twice in as many minutes, Kit opted to keep walking. Rebecca sighed inwardly with relief. At least one of them was free.

“Kristy's mother says that marrying off Kristy to a respectable family is her main objective this year. Isn’t that true, Clyde?”

To Rebecca’s surprise, Kristy didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed by this revelation. Rebecca would have been horrified. Then again, her own mother died when she was young. Maybe had her mother lived, she’d be standing here now, prattling on about Rebecca’s dedication to medicine rather than men. From what she remembered about her mother, Rebecca suspected that she wouldn’t.

“I can’t say I recall the main objective of Kristy's mother this year. Wasn’t last year to secure a place at the Sorbonne for her nephew?”

“Which she did,” Kristy said pointedly.

“Goals are extremely important,” Dorothy agreed. “One can never underestimate the power of goal setting. My sources tell me that both of you young ladies are doing very well in the pursuit of greener pastures, despite recent, unfortunate setbacks. Isn’t that true, Clyde?”

Rebecca and Charlotte exchanged uneasy glances.

“I wouldn’t know the particulars,” Clyde said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I turn down my hearing aid when your friends are blabbering on, to the extent possible.”

Dorothy swatted at his arm laughingly. “You remember. Charlotte has snagged herself another trust fund and that Rebecca had found a sly way back into her inheritance.”

Rebecca nearly choked on a sip of champagne.

Charlotte cleared her throat. “I’m afraid your source isn’t very accurate. I haven’t snagged another trust fund and we’ve only recently made Jake's acquaintance.”

“Do you mean Jake Krieg?” Kristy inquired politely.

Rebecca glanced at her in surprise. “You know him?”

“I do. Very well. We live near each other in Connecticut.”

Rebecca sipped her champagne, eyeing Kristy carefully.

Dorothy looked confused. “Who is Jake Krieg?”

“Jasmine’s brother,” Rebecca explained.

Clyde appeared equally startled. “And you know him, Kristy?”

She nodded and Rebecca caught a glimpse of satisfaction in her beady eyes. “We frequent the same coffee shop. I hadn’t seen him recently, but I suppose his sister’s death explains his absence.”

A cheer erupted from the craps table, drawing Dorothy’s attention. “Ooh, I think it’s time to indulge our inner gamblers, Clyde.” She looked at the sisters. “Clyde says I shouldn’t gamble. That I tend to make a fool of myself.”

Clyde grinned. “Dearest, you don’t need to gamble in order to make a fool of yourself.”

His wife elbowed him playfully. “Would anyone care to join us?”

In that moment, Charlotte spotted Francie and Crispin at the roulette wheel. “Finally! There’s Francie.” She bent her head apologetically. “I need to say hello to someone. Please excuse me.”

“In that case, I’ll stay here,” Kristy said. “Someone should keep Rebecca company.”

“How sweet you are, Kristy,” Dorothy said before scuttling toward the craps table with Clyde in tow.

Once they were out of earshot, Kristy turned to Rebecca. “Finally, I can get a word in edgewise. That Dorothy is a threat to oxygen.”

Rebecca was inclined to agree but thought it rude to say so about Kristy's godmother.

“I was hoping to speak with you about Jake,” Kristy said.

“Oh?” Rebecca couldn’t imagine why.

“I actually have more of a relationship with Jake than I let on, but I didn’t dare mention it in front of Dorothy. She’d go straight to my mother.”

Rebecca’s stomach tightened. “Why?”

Kristy smiled. “Jake and I have been seeing each other for over a year.”

Rebecca tried to hide her shock. “Over a year? Odd that he never mentioned you.”

“Well, he told me all about you and Charlotte.”

“Then you’ve seen him recently?” Rebecca hadn’t heard from him recently and his silence had been gnawing at her. She’d hoped he might make a surprise appearance tonight, but instead she was confronted with Kristy.

“Oh, very recently. I was so relieved that he had you there to comfort him when Jasmine died. He says that you and Charlotte are like the sisters he always wanted. Jasmine never did treat him very well.”

Rebecca gulped more champagne. Sisters. Ouch. “Didn’t Dorothy say that your mother’s main focus is marrying you off this year?”

Kristy rolled her eyes. “Yes, into a respectable family. They would never approve of Jake.” She lowered her voice. “That’s why our relationship has been a secret.”

Rebecca wondered if they’d approve of him now that he was to inherit a fortune. “Do you think he’ll mind that you’re telling me?” She guessed he would, under the circumstances.

“Of course not. You’re basically family.”

Rebecca glanced at Kristy's naked finger. “But you’re not engaged.”

“He promised me that we’d be engaged once he made enough money to keep me at the standard to which I am accustomed.” She raised her chin. “No disrespect to Jasmine, but it seems that day has come surprisingly sooner than we’d hoped.”

Stunned by Kristy’s admission, the flute of champagne slipped from Rebecca’s fingers and crashed onto the floor. It shattered into tiny fragments, spraying droplets of champagne on both of their dresses.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Mrs. Goodington said, hustling over. “I know the best cleaners in Eastdale. Could get Jesus’s face off the shroud of Turin.”

Rebecca blushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how it slipped…”

“It’s more of a Charlotte moment than a Rebecca, isn’t it?” Mrs. Goodington studied Rebecca. “You look positively ill. Are you all right? I’ll get you a drink of water.” She disappeared into the crowd.

Kristy leaned into Rebecca. “Please don’t tell anyone. We don’t want my family to know yet. Not until everything’s resolved with the inheritance. So silly of Jasmine not to have a will. It makes everything take longer.”

“Yes, it was rather inconsiderate of her,” Rebecca said.

“So you’ll keep our secret?”

“My father always said the best way to keep a secret is not to tell it to anyone.”

“Yes, Jake mentioned how calm and rational you are. He told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.”

Rebecca blocked out the image of Jake sharing their private moments together. The thought was nauseating. “I’m sorry I can’t say the same.”

“Rebecca, there you are,” Jackson Kohler’s voice broke through their quiet exchange. “You girls have outdone yourselves. All of this financial waste in one room. An impressive spectacle.”

“Jackson, so good of you to come,” Rebecca said, clasping his hand. “Jackson Kohler, this is Kristy…”

“Farewell,” Kristy added. “I’m visiting my godparents from Connecticut.”

“My son and I have been to New Haven,” Jackson said, “back when I harbored hopes of him attending Yale.” He adjusted his tie. “Alas, he opted for a bohemian life in Brooklyn.”

Kristy wrinkled her nose at the mention of Brooklyn.

“Jackson Kohler is the man you want to meet,” Rebecca said. “He was the lawyer handling my father’s estate.”

“Oh.” Kristy’s small eyes widened.

“Kristy is a special friend of Jake Krieg’s,” Rebecca said and Jackson’s brow lifted.

“I see,” he said.

As Kristy began to babble about Connecticut and coffee shops, Rebecca made her excuses and walked away. She felt bad leaving Jackson with Kristy, but she had to walk away or risk bodily harm.

She looked around the room for Charlotte and saw her engaged in conversation with Francie at the roulette table. Francie appeared to be on a winning streak judging from the number of chips piled in front of her.

“Well done, Francie,” Rebecca said, relieved to be back among friends. Her conversation with Kristy was killing her. She looked to Charlotte, whose face had turned ashen. “Lottie?”