Dior or Die (Joanna Hayworth Vintage Clothing Mysteries Book 2) by Angela M. Sanders Page B
Authors: Angela M. Sanders
Tags: Mystery
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Also..." Her voice trailed off. "Is that your husband?" she asked suddenly.
Helena's gaze had caught a small photo of Paul that Joanna had taped to the inside of the tiki bar along with a bent bobby pin. "Oh, my boyfriend," she said. "It's a long story, but once we were stuck together on a boat, and he used that bobby pin to pick the lock to get us out."
She remembered the night before, when Paul had suggested they move in together. This talk about death made her regret she hadn’t said "yes" right away. Waking up next to him every day, coming home to him every night—what could be better than that? And yet, it was still a little soon. She couldn’t explain it.
Helena nodded. "This whole thing has been hard on my husband." She paused. "It's created some—well, strain, and I don't know what to do."
Her intimacy surprised Joanna. She wasn't sure how to respond. Then again, just in their two meetings they'd talked about death and loss—subjects perhaps even more intimate. "That's natural. His mother died a horrible death. He's probably traumatized."
"It's more than that. He never had to work, so I was glad when he took up painting. But now he’s even lost interest in that. His medal from winning the art biennial seems to mean nothing to him. He’s so anxious. All the time. It’s like he expects more disaster." She searched Joanna's face, looking for some kind of comfort.
"It must be hard for you both. I can’t even imagine."
"Maybe it’s all the stress, but I keep having this feeling that—" A few seconds passed in silence.
"Feeling that what?"
"Well, I know it sounds strange, but I don’t feel safe yet. I feel as if—as if someone is watching me." Helena bit her lip.
"Oh," Joanna said. "Have you told the police?"
She shook her head. "It’s just me. Out of sorts. We have a new security system, I’m safe. At least, I should be safe."
"Maybe family should come stay with you for a while."
"I don’t have any. I was an only child, and my parents are dead now. Gil is it for me." She started to play with the earring again. "I have friends, of course."
"Of course." Money didn't necessarily make everything better. Although Apple was like a sister, Joanna knew what it was like not to have family near.
Helena seemed to be near tears, but she managed a short laugh. "I know we just met. You've been so kind. It's kind of a rough time right now, and I don't want to burden you with it. Thank you for asking about Vivienne and for telling the nuns. Vivienne would have liked that."
"It’s all right. I hope you’ll think of me as a friend." Joanna remembered Clary's warning that Helena could be "fragile."
Helena drew a deep breath. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
"I wonder when it will all be over? The police have had Vivienne's things for a few days now," Joanna said.
"Hopefully it won't be long. Gil says Detective Crisp told him they're following up something big. He thinks there'll be a break in the case soon. I hope to God so."
"That's great news." For both of them, since the police might release the clothes. And Detective Crisp—that was a stroke of luck, too. Joanna knew him from his investigation of the murder the summer before. She touched the sketched invitation on the tiki bar. Maybe she'd hold that fashion show yet.
***
Blossom Dearie's baby-like voice sang from the record player. One of the Rose Festival princesses, accompanied by her official chaperone, had just bought the expensive pink tulle dress that had been on display. Its pale rose set off the princess's creamy Asian skin and dark hair. Joanna dropped a few business cards in her bag, hoping she'd tell the other Rose Princesses about Tallulah’s Closet. Couldn't hurt.
Despite the sale, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Twice she’d had the sensation that someone was watching her through the store’s front window, but when she looked up, no one was there. She chalked it up to the strange interaction with the gypsy
Helena's gaze had caught a small photo of Paul that Joanna had taped to the inside of the tiki bar along with a bent bobby pin. "Oh, my boyfriend," she said. "It's a long story, but once we were stuck together on a boat, and he used that bobby pin to pick the lock to get us out."
She remembered the night before, when Paul had suggested they move in together. This talk about death made her regret she hadn’t said "yes" right away. Waking up next to him every day, coming home to him every night—what could be better than that? And yet, it was still a little soon. She couldn’t explain it.
Helena nodded. "This whole thing has been hard on my husband." She paused. "It's created some—well, strain, and I don't know what to do."
Her intimacy surprised Joanna. She wasn't sure how to respond. Then again, just in their two meetings they'd talked about death and loss—subjects perhaps even more intimate. "That's natural. His mother died a horrible death. He's probably traumatized."
"It's more than that. He never had to work, so I was glad when he took up painting. But now he’s even lost interest in that. His medal from winning the art biennial seems to mean nothing to him. He’s so anxious. All the time. It’s like he expects more disaster." She searched Joanna's face, looking for some kind of comfort.
"It must be hard for you both. I can’t even imagine."
"Maybe it’s all the stress, but I keep having this feeling that—" A few seconds passed in silence.
"Feeling that what?"
"Well, I know it sounds strange, but I don’t feel safe yet. I feel as if—as if someone is watching me." Helena bit her lip.
"Oh," Joanna said. "Have you told the police?"
She shook her head. "It’s just me. Out of sorts. We have a new security system, I’m safe. At least, I should be safe."
"Maybe family should come stay with you for a while."
"I don’t have any. I was an only child, and my parents are dead now. Gil is it for me." She started to play with the earring again. "I have friends, of course."
"Of course." Money didn't necessarily make everything better. Although Apple was like a sister, Joanna knew what it was like not to have family near.
Helena seemed to be near tears, but she managed a short laugh. "I know we just met. You've been so kind. It's kind of a rough time right now, and I don't want to burden you with it. Thank you for asking about Vivienne and for telling the nuns. Vivienne would have liked that."
"It’s all right. I hope you’ll think of me as a friend." Joanna remembered Clary's warning that Helena could be "fragile."
Helena drew a deep breath. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
"I wonder when it will all be over? The police have had Vivienne's things for a few days now," Joanna said.
"Hopefully it won't be long. Gil says Detective Crisp told him they're following up something big. He thinks there'll be a break in the case soon. I hope to God so."
"That's great news." For both of them, since the police might release the clothes. And Detective Crisp—that was a stroke of luck, too. Joanna knew him from his investigation of the murder the summer before. She touched the sketched invitation on the tiki bar. Maybe she'd hold that fashion show yet.
***
Blossom Dearie's baby-like voice sang from the record player. One of the Rose Festival princesses, accompanied by her official chaperone, had just bought the expensive pink tulle dress that had been on display. Its pale rose set off the princess's creamy Asian skin and dark hair. Joanna dropped a few business cards in her bag, hoping she'd tell the other Rose Princesses about Tallulah’s Closet. Couldn't hurt.
Despite the sale, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Twice she’d had the sensation that someone was watching her through the store’s front window, but when she looked up, no one was there. She chalked it up to the strange interaction with the gypsy
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