life?
A well-preserved older woman walked up to the table and gave them both a wide, plastic smile. “Hello, girls.”
A memory chord strummed in Carlotta’s mind, but she couldn’t place the woman.
“Hi, Bette,” Tracey said.
Ah, Bette Noble, the woman who’d talked to her mother on the phone this morning.
“Hello, Bette,” she added.
“How is the policemen’s benefit coming along?”
The woman’s gender reference rankled her. “The police department benefit is moving ahead.”
“Yes,” Tracey added. “We had a meeting this morning to choose which bulletproof vest to order.”
“Let me know if I can help,” the woman said in a superior voice. “My benefit last year was a record success. But don’t feel pressured—no one expects you to top the money I raised.”
Tracey had already emptied her martini glass and her expression was confrontational. She opened her mouth to say
something, but Carlotta headed her off. “Absolutely, we’ll let you know, Bette.”
The woman smiled, then glanced at the photo album still lying open on the table. “By the way, Carlotta, I mentioned to Valerie that last week I saw Peter at a restaurant way up in Cumming.”
“Yes,” Carlotta murmured. “Peter has clients all over the metro area.”
“It was a lady client,” Bette said with a knowing smile. “In fact, it was this lady client.” She pointed to the photo album, then tapped Angela’s face. “Very pretty.”
Carlotta’s heart dropped, but she managed to conjure up a smile. “Yes… she’s a very pretty friend of ours.”
“That’s good to know,” Bette said, feigning relief. “I’d hate to be the source of bad news.”
Tracey tipped her glass for the last few drops of vodka, leaving Carlotta to fend for herself.
“I’ll tell Peter you said hello,” Carlotta said with as much composure as she could muster. When the woman walked off, she muttered, “What a bitch,” just as Hannah returned. Hannah’s mouth twitched and they shared a glance of solidarity.
Tracey took the second martini, then made a shooing motion to Hannah, bumping her empty glass in the process and
sending it crashing to the floor. “Oops, sorry about that.”
Hannah’s cheek extended with the insertion of her tongue. “No problem. I’ll get a broom… unless the one you rode in on is handy?”
Carlotta choked back a laugh as Tracey’s expression went lethal.
“You should really watch your mouth. It would be a shame if your first day on the job was also your last.”
Hannah visibly bit her tongue, turned on her heel and stalked away.
“Tracey,” Carlotta admonished.
“What? Are you forgetting the only reason she’s here is because you got that last girl fired for putting too much lemon in your tea?”
Carlotta sat back, nonplused to hear she was guilty of such petty behavior.
“Forget that,” Tracey said with a wave. “And Bette Noble is a bitch, but she did you a favor. Now you know Peter and Angela are having an affair.”
Carlotta started to protest that a clandestine meal an hour outside the city didn’t an affair make, but deep down, she knew there was no other explanation. The knowledge that Peter had taken vows with her, but had turned to another woman was like a knife to her heart. The fact that he’d just upgraded her engagement ring made it seem unlikely he was contemplating asking her for a divorce. Did that mean he simply intended to keep Angela on the side?
“So,” Tracey said, leaning in, “are you going to do it?”
Carlotta was clueless as to what the woman was talking about, but the gleam in Tracey’s eye concerned her. “Do what?”
Tracey glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “Kill Angela.”
Chapter 8
In the span of two heartbeats, Carlotta realized Tracey was serious… dead serious. “What?” She tried to laugh.
“You said if you found out Angela was messing around with Peter, you were going to kill her.”
“I was joking, of
A well-preserved older woman walked up to the table and gave them both a wide, plastic smile. “Hello, girls.”
A memory chord strummed in Carlotta’s mind, but she couldn’t place the woman.
“Hi, Bette,” Tracey said.
Ah, Bette Noble, the woman who’d talked to her mother on the phone this morning.
“Hello, Bette,” she added.
“How is the policemen’s benefit coming along?”
The woman’s gender reference rankled her. “The police department benefit is moving ahead.”
“Yes,” Tracey added. “We had a meeting this morning to choose which bulletproof vest to order.”
“Let me know if I can help,” the woman said in a superior voice. “My benefit last year was a record success. But don’t feel pressured—no one expects you to top the money I raised.”
Tracey had already emptied her martini glass and her expression was confrontational. She opened her mouth to say
something, but Carlotta headed her off. “Absolutely, we’ll let you know, Bette.”
The woman smiled, then glanced at the photo album still lying open on the table. “By the way, Carlotta, I mentioned to Valerie that last week I saw Peter at a restaurant way up in Cumming.”
“Yes,” Carlotta murmured. “Peter has clients all over the metro area.”
“It was a lady client,” Bette said with a knowing smile. “In fact, it was this lady client.” She pointed to the photo album, then tapped Angela’s face. “Very pretty.”
Carlotta’s heart dropped, but she managed to conjure up a smile. “Yes… she’s a very pretty friend of ours.”
“That’s good to know,” Bette said, feigning relief. “I’d hate to be the source of bad news.”
Tracey tipped her glass for the last few drops of vodka, leaving Carlotta to fend for herself.
“I’ll tell Peter you said hello,” Carlotta said with as much composure as she could muster. When the woman walked off, she muttered, “What a bitch,” just as Hannah returned. Hannah’s mouth twitched and they shared a glance of solidarity.
Tracey took the second martini, then made a shooing motion to Hannah, bumping her empty glass in the process and
sending it crashing to the floor. “Oops, sorry about that.”
Hannah’s cheek extended with the insertion of her tongue. “No problem. I’ll get a broom… unless the one you rode in on is handy?”
Carlotta choked back a laugh as Tracey’s expression went lethal.
“You should really watch your mouth. It would be a shame if your first day on the job was also your last.”
Hannah visibly bit her tongue, turned on her heel and stalked away.
“Tracey,” Carlotta admonished.
“What? Are you forgetting the only reason she’s here is because you got that last girl fired for putting too much lemon in your tea?”
Carlotta sat back, nonplused to hear she was guilty of such petty behavior.
“Forget that,” Tracey said with a wave. “And Bette Noble is a bitch, but she did you a favor. Now you know Peter and Angela are having an affair.”
Carlotta started to protest that a clandestine meal an hour outside the city didn’t an affair make, but deep down, she knew there was no other explanation. The knowledge that Peter had taken vows with her, but had turned to another woman was like a knife to her heart. The fact that he’d just upgraded her engagement ring made it seem unlikely he was contemplating asking her for a divorce. Did that mean he simply intended to keep Angela on the side?
“So,” Tracey said, leaning in, “are you going to do it?”
Carlotta was clueless as to what the woman was talking about, but the gleam in Tracey’s eye concerned her. “Do what?”
Tracey glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “Kill Angela.”
Chapter 8
In the span of two heartbeats, Carlotta realized Tracey was serious… dead serious. “What?” She tried to laugh.
“You said if you found out Angela was messing around with Peter, you were going to kill her.”
“I was joking, of
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