Adduné - the Vampire's Game (39 page)

“
No, she’s not here,” Jake countered. “She’s on her own schedule these days.”

Miranda didn’t like Rachel beaten up without being here to say a word in her defense. It wasn’t fair – especially not after pulling off this kind of event. Miranda felt sure that if it had been a disaster, Rachel would be very quick to get the blame, but credit? That was a different matter entirely. She was surprised at the outpouring of antagonism toward the rather shy, quiet, hardworking girl she’d met last year.

“
Tony!” cried a man that had a receding hairline and burgeoning girth.

“
Jerry,” Perrone answered as the two men hugged and pounded each other on the back. “Will you two excuse me a moment? Got some catching up to do.”

The two men headed off speaking in loud animated tones that were hushed by the music and chatter of the jubilant and now slightly tipsy guests.

“
What on earth were you going on with Perrone about? Why is he investigating the museum? Been smuggling mummies?”

“
Miranda, don’t even joke about a thing like that or I might have to spank you.”

“
And I might like it,” she teased.

“
You probably would,” Jake retorted looking at her with a good dollop of lasciviousness in his eyes. “No, I don’t do mummies, but I am interested in their daughters.”

“
You are so crazy.”

“
It’s what you love about me though.”

“
Among other things,” she said biting her lip and widening her eyes.

“
Maybe I should ask him what happened to my watch.”

“
It’s missing?”

Jake raised his sleeve.

“
I think I left it at home. Either that or it’s at the hotel. Did you see it?”

“
Uh-oh! You probably left it to give yourself an alibi. I know your type.”

“
Yeah, I’m all about covering my ass. Too bad others don’t see things that way. It’s why this dick, I mean, detective, is here looking into some ghastly murder.”

“
Murder? At the museum?”

“
No! That’s all we’d need! It was at some vet’s office. Person that owned it was working late and got torn apart by an intruder. And I mean that literally. Pieces of her were all over the place – at least that’s what I heard.”

“
That’s awful! Must have been a very strong intruder!”

“
Yeah, gruesome crimes don’t happen too often in a small city like this. Made all the papers.”

“
And they suspect you? You’re hardly the type?”

“
Thanks for vouching for my character, but it wasn’t me this time attracting suspicion. It was an employee that cast the locusts of law down upon our asses. Rachel Abbott. That girl is more trouble than she’s worth,” Jake said drowning the last words with a hard swallow of the beige bubbly.

“
Rachel Abbott?” Miranda again felt a tug on her heartstrings. It made no sense for Jake to be this angry at the mousy, timid girl. Miranda did a fast reality check. Jake had just told her the victim had been torn apart. It was crazy thinking that a woman could do that – let alone Rachel. Rachel had hardly uttered two words when they’d met.

“
She’s hardly the type either. The Fairfield police must be short on suspects … and brains,” she added dryly. She looked over at Perrone who was still talking to his old buddy Jerry. He didn’t look that stupid, but he must be. Miranda started to reconsider her opinion. She’d better get a new sniffer – her smells were getting all confused.

“
Yeah, but you’re remembering the old Rachel. Poor girl has gone and changed her style. I’m starting to believe she’s capable of anything.”

“
Jake! You can’t possibly mean that,” Miranda admonished, springing to her defense.

“
Okay, okay,” Jake stuttered putting his hands up showing Miranda he was giving up. “You’re right. She couldn’t possibly be involved in the murder. I was just being a …”

“
Prick?”

Jake laughed at Miranda’s remark. He didn’t mind being pierced by her honesty and wit. She was one of the few people that had entered that charmed circle of not annoying Jake.

“
Guilty.”

“
A confession? And not in the earshot of our ardent detective. I’ll never tell,” Miranda joked. Jake snuck in for a quick snuggle. Miranda giggled enjoying the affection, “Cloak and dagger love.”

“
What’s better than undercover love?”

“
Nothing,” she murmured as he dove in for a quick, sweet kiss.

They gave a quick lookaround and saw that no one had noticed a thing. They parted quickly, Jake straightening his jacket and tie while Miranda rearranged her dress that had gone askew from the rough handling. She brushed her hand on her forehead pushing back her hair. Her skin was clammy. In spite of the air conditioning, she felt a bit hot. She needed some air. She gulped down some champagne.

“
Jake, I’m glad you explained about why he was here. I was thinking it had to do with that coffin. You must have thought we were out of our minds to send it! Rachel, too. Imagine finding that!”

Jake’s face went blank. He often got that look when clueless. Miranda wondered what was causing it. He wasn’t even close to being drunk enough to forget about the shipment. It had only been a month ago. And he had mentioned it in the car ride.

“
Coffin?” he asked clearly bewildered.

Miranda put her hand on her hip. She’d just have to remind him.

“
The empty coffin? You know … the one Rachel discovered and the one that you called Reginald about.”

“
But I didn’t call about a coffin. I called him because the shipping crate was empty. There was never any coffin, unless for some strange reason you’re blotted out of your mind and calling a crate a coffin. You blotto, Miranda?”

“
What?” It was now Miranda that was confused. She was holding her third glass of champagne for the evening, but she hadn’t gotten a chance to enjoy her second. It wasn’t enough alcohol to get her drunk, let alone confuse words … or history. The coffin was sent in the shipping crate. That was for sure. She’d even read the note. Reginald had made sure of that, although she would never forgive him for digging it out of the trash. There had to be a misunderstanding and not only in vocabulary. She thought about letting it go, but couldn’t.

“
It’s not me that’s confusing things, you are! There was a shipping crate and a coffin inside of it! ” Miranda stated flatly, her mind adrift with trying to untangle the events. “Are you telling me that you don’t know about the coffin?”

“
Somebody say something about a coffin?”

Miranda looked over her shoulder and saw it was Perrone interjecting himself into the conversation. He positioned himself in between them – like a referee. All he needed was a striped shirt and whistle. Miranda gave Jake a look conveying how sorry she was for raising the spectre of coffins. The subject should not have been discussed in this type of arena, especially around little detectives possessing big ears – and Perrone wasn’t all that tiny. She tried to smooth things over with a glib explanation. She hoped it would suffice.

“
Oh, it was just a horrible mix-up. One of our shippers crated up a coffin and sent it to the museum.”

Perrone was hardly satisfied with the answer.

“
And why would he do that?”

Miranda was fast becoming exasperated. She realized she’d better make a clean breast of things. Get everything out in the open so they could move on.

“
Because he became unhinged over finances, so he stole a pair of candlesticks. That pair over there,” she said pointing to the exhibited pair.

“
Then you recovered them?”

“
Obviously. And recovered is a strange word to use given the circumstances, but yes, we recovered them.”

“
Why strange?”

Miranda signed heavily. She hadn’t wanted to go into this, but it didn’t matter now. Pinckus was dead – Pinckus himself made certain of that.

“
Look, he stole the candlesticks unbeknownst to anyone. We wouldn’t have known except for the fact his conscience got to him. He killed himself – hung himself by a rope he kept in the garage. He left a note in which he confessed to the theft. The candlesticks were by the body. He wanted us to find them. I hope that answers all your questions.”

“
I suppose. For now, anyway,” Perrone said, downing some champagne.

“
But you can’t think this has anything to do with that murder,” Jake snapped.

“
You never know. Never hurts to ask. Besides I don’t like loose ends and this is a loose end that wasn’t mentioned. Now why would Ms. Abbott not have said something?”

Miranda looked helplessly at Jake. They both wanted this subject over. Jake leapt in.

“
Because it wasn’t there. Because she didn’t think it was important,” Jake theorized.

“
Or because it never arrived,” Miranda tacked on putting forth another possibility.

“
But if it did, Ms. Perry, would it have had copper nails?”

Miranda was taken aback by Perrone’s question. Reginald had said something about copper nails. Or had it been in one of the notes? Miranda couldn’t remember, but she knew they’d been mentioned.

“
Yes, it did have them, or was alleged to have, since I didn’t see for myself, but how did you know? I thought it didn’t arrive?”

“
Something like that,” was the Perrone’s cryptic reply. A cat with a bird in his mouth expression was spreading over his face faster than spilled paint on a driveway. His body became more erect and a dangerous confidence was shining through. By all appearances he knew something he was unwilling to share.

“
Tell you what,” Jake cracked. “Why don’t you ask her yourself, Sherlock?”

Rachel entered on cue as the quartet launched into an irresistibly lovely Vienna waltz. Several couples took advantage of the melodic classic by dancing in the courtyard. Miranda could see them through the picture windows and through the open French doors leading out to the balcony. The adventurous pairs initiated and inspired others to join them. Couples were soon flooding outdoors to dance in the moonlight.

Miranda was captivated by the exuberance and beauty of the dance, but her attention was snatched away by the late arrival. Jake hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Rachel had changed. It was a gross understatement. Miranda could hardly believe it was the same person. The Rachel she met would never have appeared in public this way. The hair, the make-up, and the clothing were all wrong.

Rachel stood in the doorway enjoying the commotion she was causing. She was wearing a black matte jersey dress that hugged every inch of her body. That included every square inch of protuberance caused by her huge, unfettered breasts. The deep V swept downwards almost reaching her wasp waist. The revealing nature of the open neckline meant that Rachel’s bosoms were barely contained by the two side panels of flimsy material. The fabric was clingy and displayed every curve, jiggle, and womanly hill and valley. It meant that her stiffened nipples were apparent to the point of being used for a tracing. Worst of all, the sudden stopping short caused her gigantic chest to undulate as if unable to permanently settle in a resting position.

“
Rachel! Over here!” Jake shouted to her, waving his arm in the air to attract her attention.

She heard his voice and responded to his request by slinking down the stairs. The severe styling of her strappy stiletto heels caused her to saunter more than walk down the stairs, her breasts bouncing and swaying with renewed vigor matching her stride. Miranda hadn’t seen the dress in motion. It was also slit up the right side. With every step Rachel took, the dress flapped open exposing way too much of Rachel’s thigh. Miranda was no prude, but she was more than shocked that anyone would choose to wear a dress like that to an exhibit opening. The dress was more suited to the bedroom and Miranda suspected it had been intended as a negligee and not something to be worn in public. Miranda sought a word to describe Rachel’s new look.
Wench
was the word that came to mind. She wondered what word the male contingency populating the room would have come up with.

“
Howdy, Rach! Nice of you to make an appearance,” Jake gushed putting a hand on her shoulder. “You remember Miranda Perry, don’t you?”