Dashing Through the Snow (13 page)

“No, I haven’t. Clarice Rodriguez didn’t know
anything except what we already know. But I have calls into Rowena
Miles and Paula Carson. It’s likely that Rowena will know
something.”

“Okay, good. What about the collective?” Lily
asked cheerfully

“The what?”

“You know, the aunts.”

Glenda burst out laughing. “
The aunts
?
You wouldn’t be referring to my sisters, would you?”

“Yes. That’s what we cousins call you guys:
the aunts. But I think the collective works better, considering how
you tell each everything about each others’ lives and then nobody
makes a move about a problem until you’ve reached a consensus.”

“Now, Lily, you exaggerate. You know that
isn’t true!”

“Yes, it is,” Lily said as she looked in the
rearview mirror to check her makeup one last time. “You have no
idea how difficult it was to try to gain sympathy after being
unfairly punished by you for some inconsequential
transgression.”

“Oh, stop,” Glenda said between her
chuckles.

“What about the beauty parlor?” Lily asked
after her mother had stopped laughing. In Sheffield-Chatham, the
beauty parlors were only a few of several hot spots for gossip.

“What about it?”

“Do you have an appointment coming up soon?
You might be able to find out something there.”

“My appointment isn’t until Thursday, but
I’ll do what I can until then. What is it exactly you’re looking
for, Lily?”

“Anything, Mom,” Lily said as she swiped a
finger under her bottom lip to get rid of any stray lipstick. “I
just want some background on those two. Who knows? Something that
seems insignificant might turn out to help me.”

“All right. I expect a commission for all of
this work, you know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“In the new year, I want you over for dinner
at least twice a week. But anyway, I was calling because Mrs.
Johnson called me. She said she saw you crawling in the snow along
Route 22.”

Lily sighed. “What is
wrong
with that
woman? And why is it that she’s the one who always sees me doing
something out of the ordinary?”

“So you
were
crawling?” Glenda sounded
appalled.

“Of course not, Mom. I might have crouched
down a couple of times to take a look at something. And before you
ask, I was out there working the case. I was trying to see if there
had been an accident recently.”

“Oh, that is smart. What a good idea!”

Lily made a face. Her mother sounded exactly
as she had when she’d praise Lily for some little bit of
foolishness when she was a child. “Gee, thanks, Mom. I do try. We
detectives are always having ideas.”

“No need for the sarcasm. I’m sorry. I don’t
know why I always let Cora get me all het up.”

“Neither do I. It’s a mystery of the
ages.”

Glenda laughed again. “All right, now, Lily.
That’s the last one you’re going to get, and that’s only because I
fell for Mrs. Johnson’s lie again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lily turned her head to look at
the building. The Businessman’s Social Club was an ugly squat
little rust colored edifice. It stood alone and totally out of
place between two modern high rises. “Is that all, Mom? I’ve got to
get back to work.”

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“As I can be,” Lily promised before hanging
up. She hadn’t told her parents all of the details of her case;
just the parts she knew would soon be common knowledge, if they
weren’t already. Grabbing her purse, she stepped out of the car and
shut and locked the door behind her. As she approached the
building, she noticed little accoutrements here and there. The door
was solid oak and was carved with hunting scenes. The shrubbery
flanking either side of the door was neat and orderly and the
poinsettias that were in the windowsills flowered prettily.
“Gorgeous,” Lily murmured as she looked at the blooms. Whoever had
decorated had gone with not only red blooms, but white and pink
ones as well.

The walkway leading to the door was carpeted
with a deep green rug and she felt the lushness of it as she made
her way to the door. She was sure that the heavy marker, which was
in the shape of a lion’s head, was made of brass. She picked it up,
literally sticking her hand into the mouth of the lion, and used it
twice, but then rang the bell that sat discreetly to the side of
the door. As she waited, she looked up and noticed that etched into
the stained glass above the doors was a crest with a male lion
standing proudly with its paw on the bleeding neck of a gazelle.
There was a phrase in Latin, which she didn’t understand. She tried
to commit it to memory, but then the door was pulled open.

“Yes,” the man intoned in a sonorous voice
that seemed to come from deep within. Lily shivered. Her greeter
was at least six feet five, had a bald head and an almost
cadaverous frame. His face was sunken with deep set brown eyes and
a beak of a nose. He wore a black tuxedo with a bow tie. He
reminded her of a classic television show character, and she
expected to hear the words, “You rang?”

Lily tried not to react to his appearance and
shot her eyes to the side for a moment. “Uh, hi. I’d like to see
the manager. I’m Lily Carstairs. I believe he’s expecting me.”

“This belief you have, madam,” the man began
slowly and with a false hesitancy, “is it based in fact, or is it
mere hopeful thinking?”

“I beg your pardon?” Lily asked stiffly,
feeling insulted.

The man sighed, showing impatience. “Please
inform me of your
raison d’être
, madam. In other words, your
reason for being here.”

Lily sniffed, thinking that if he was going
to be all snooty and pissy about it, she could forget the manners
her mama taught her, too. “Piss off, Lurch and go get Mr. Andre
Winscoff, with whom I have a three o’clock appointment.” In case he
got the idea to shut the door in her face, Lily stepped inside,
surprising the man even more. She’d already made his mouth drop
open with her earlier statement. She sidled past him and turned
back. “And just so you’re clear, my reason for being here is none
of your concern, but my
raison d être
? My reason for simply
being?” she asked in a cheery voice with a great big smile. “Why,
it’s to bring joy and sunshine to all I encounter. What the hell
else?”

He stepped towards her with an outstretched
hand and she said, “Lay just one of those paws on me, and neither
one of us will be happy.”

The man hesitated for a moment, but then
reached for her again. Lily whipped out her phone to wiggle in
front of him. “Ah-ah-ah,” she admonished. “I’ve got the assistant
chief on police on speed dial, and I’ll be screaming all the
while.”

They hadn’t drawn much attention yet, but
Lily was aware of some slight stirrings of interest from a few men
seated across the expansive Persian-rugged room in front of a
roaring fireplace.

“What is the meaning of this, Templeton? What
is going on here?”

A small Caucasian man with bowed legs and a
neat little mustache was rushing towards them and Lily smiled,
assuming this was the man she’d come to see.

“This female, sir,” Templeton gestured to
Lily, “has barged in here, and now refuses to leave the premises.
She has threatened to phone the police if I don’t allow her access
to you.”

Lily didn’t have much time to ponder the
distaste she heard in Templeton’s voice when he said the word
‘female’ before Mr. Winscoff was presenting her with a fierce
scowl. “Just what is the meaning of your barging in here, young
lady?”

Lily tried a friendly smile. “Hello, I’m Lily
Carstairs. We have a three o’clock meeting scheduled. I apologize
for my rudeness to your man here, but I was just anxious to speak
to you,” she finished amicably, knowing that she needed to treat
him quite differently than she had Templeton.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Winscoff said. He
turned to Templeton. “Please go back to your duties, Templeton. I
will escort Ms. Carstairs to my office.

Her gaze taking in the rich mahogany paneling
and the rest of the ritzy décor of the club, Lily followed Winscoff
up the spiral staircase that was on the left side of the room. He
led her past several doors, and finally into an office. She sat in
one of the leather chairs he offered her and waited for him to take
his seat behind his desk. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr.
Winscoff. As I told you on the telephone, I’m here on behalf of
Mrs. Charles Landry.”

“Yes, I know, but as I told you on the
telephone, I don’t have much to tell you, and what I do know might
not be of much help to you.”

Lily had her pad in her hand and had flipped
it open. “I’m sure whatever you have to say could potentially be
helpful to my investigation. I want to cover all my bases and help
to bring Mr. Landry home.”

“I understand. Ask your questions.”

Lily settled back in her chair and crossed
her legs. “First, how well did you know Mr. Landry?”

“Only as well as one might expect, given the
kind of relationship we have.”

“And what kind of relationship is that?”

Winscoff folded his hands on the desk. “I
provided a service, he partook of that service. Nothing more,
nothing less.”

“You’re talking about the club, correct?”

“Of course,” he snipped. “To what else would
I be referring?”

Lily let that go and went on to her next
question. “What can you tell me about his relationships with other
members of the club?”

“As I told that other detective who was here
hours ago, Mr. Landry, when he visited our club, generally kept
company with two other gentlemen: Adam Ginsburg and Taylor
Thompkins.”

Lily wrote their names down and tried not to
look annoyed that she’d been beaten to a lead by the other
detective. “And what can you tell me about his relationship with
them?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Lily looked up from her note taking.
“Nothing? Really?” she asked. His expression was far too guileless
for her peace of mind.

“Aside from the facts that they were all
quite competitive when it came to their card games of choice and
they often talked about their golf scores; there’s nothing more
that I can tell you.”

Lily studied him. He met her stare and she
knew that even if he did know something, she wouldn’t get it out of
him. “Do you know if either man is here today?”

“Today is Monday, not Wednesday or Friday, so
no, they are not, either of them, here.”

Lily frowned; his curious habit of using
twenty words when five would do annoying her. “What are their
telephone numbers, please?” She watched in fascination as his face
once again went prudish on her. “Young lady, I will not share that
kind of personal information with you, a stranger.”

“Of course you won’t,” she said
sarcastically, “what on earth could I have been thinking?”

Winscoff kept his face perfectly bland. “I
have no idea. Now, if you’re quite finished,” he said and stood. “I
have work to do.”

“No, I’m not finished yet -- quite or
otherwise. Anyway,” she said with a small smile. “I’m going to try
to track monsieurs Ginsburg and Thompkins down, but in case I
don’t, what time do they usually arrive on Wednesdays?”

“I am not privy to that information.”

Lily looked at his smirk and knew without a
doubt that he was lying to her. “All right, then I guess I’ll guess
show up here Wednesday morning. Early.”

“You may do so, young lady,” Winscoff said
and she saw it in his eyes. She was about to be hugely
disappointed. “But you will not find them here. It is my
understanding that they have both taken a trip to New York. They
are business partners, you see.”

Lily suppressed a growl, and the urge to
somehow try to make his smirk disappear. “I see.”

He smiled fully now and she could tell he was
ready to turn the knife with which he’d already stabbed her. “We
provide our members with lockers here at the club – nothing fancy
or private – just a temporary holding place for our gentlemen when
they need it. Your Mr. Landry left a few things in his locker. It’s
too bad I can’t give them to you. It’s unfortunate, but I have
already given them to the first detective.”

Lily just stared at him. Finally she asked,
“Is it because I’m a woman or because I caused a slight commotion
when I first arrived?”

His smile was gleeful now. “Both. The very
idea of you, of any woman, is a commotion, a disruption. We do not
allow women…”

At this point, Lily rose to leave.

Winscoff kept talking, “in the Businessman’s
Social Club. It is simply not done. We do not even use them as
maids or cooks. At least the last detective was male.”

Lily shook her head and reached for the
doorknob. It seemed her mere presence was an affront to his
dignity.

“Of course he had a fascinatingly horrible
Texas twang, but again, at least he was male.”

This time Lily did groan aloud. She’d
suspected that Smith was the other detective, but all day she’d
been hoping against hope that she was wrong. “Shut up, Mick,” she
muttered lowly as the lyrics to the rock star’s song sneaked into
her head, reminding her that she couldn’t always get what she
wanted. She made sure to slam the door on her way out.

Chapter Twelve

Christmas Eve, 1993

“
Lily,” Smith said impatiently. “Aunt
Glenda says you’ve got to come home, so come on!” He scowled when
she just rolled her eyes at him and continued to whisper and giggle
with her friends as they all snuck peeks at a group of boys who
were a few feet away.

The town was experiencing unusually warm
weather for Christmas Eve and everyone was out later than usual to
enjoy it while they could.

“
Catch a Girl, Kiss a Girl!
One…two…three…Go!” Smith heard Jimmy Rhinehardt say, and suddenly
Lily and her friends scattered like a herd of sheep when it was
time to be corralled. He groaned and then narrowed his eyes when he
saw Jimmy break away from the pack of boys to go after
Lily.