The Other Lady Vanishes by Amanda Quick

Vera’s eyes narrowed a little. “If you ask me, they need to track down her assistant. I hear she went missing around the time of Zolanda’s death. Sounds suspicious to me.”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Adelaide hoisted the empty tray. “If you’ll excuse me, I should get back to the kitchen.”

  “Of course. I’m sure it’s been very difficult for you and that businessman from L.A. who was with you when you found Zolanda’s body. Thank goodness he happened along when he did, hmm?”

  Adelaide went still. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I just meant that it was a lucky break for you. After all, things could have been a bit awkward with the police if you had been alone when you discovered Zolanda’s body.”

  Adelaide decided she’d had about enough. She fixed Vera with a steady gaze. “What makes you say that, Miss Westlake?”

  Vera’s eyes widened in an expression of pure innocence. “It just occurred to me that the police might have wondered why you happened to be on the scene of such an unusual death so early in the morning.”

  Adelaide managed what she hoped was coolly amused smile. “By any chance are you trying out for the role of a lady detective in your next film, Miss Westlake?”

  Vera looked startled for an instant. Then she gave a throaty little laugh. “I admit that, like everyone else in town, I’m curious about the death of Madam Zolanda. She never became a star on the silver screen, but she was certainly a Hollywood celebrity. I know several of her clients. It was amazing how many people fell for her act.”

  This was getting dangerous, Adelaide thought. The tearoom was not very large. Although she and Vera had been conversing in low tones, Adelaide was quite certain that those who were sitting at nearby tables had overheard every word.

  “I hope you enjoy your tea, Miss Westlake,” she said. “Please excuse me. As you can see, we’re quite busy today.”

  Vera’s mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “Nothing like a mysterious death to bring out the curiosity seekers.”

  “Evidently,” Adelaide said.

  She hurried off to check on a nearby table before Vera could say anything else.

  Florence emerged from the kitchen with a pot of tea and a sly expression.

  “Your new boarder is waiting for you,” she whispered when she passed Adelaide.

  Adelaide hurried into the kitchen. Jake was there. She realized he had entered the tearoom through the kitchen door.

  “Florence told me that Vera Westlake managed to snag you,” he said. “I assume she was curious about the psychic’s death?”

  “Yes.” Adelaide set the tray on the counter. “I didn’t tell her anything more than what was in the Herald. Evidently she and Zolanda knew each other when they were aspiring actresses. Their lives went in different directions when Vera became a star and Zolanda . . . didn’t.”

  “Huh.” Jake looked interested. “Was Westlake one of Zolanda’s clients?”

  Adelaide raised her brows. “You’re wondering if Vera Westlake might have been one of Zolanda’s blackmail victims, aren’t you?”

  “The possibility crossed my mind. If so, she would have had a motive for murder.”

  “I asked Miss Westlake if she had ever consulted with Zolanda. The answer was a very firm no. Miss Westlake doesn’t believe in psychic powers. But she did say she finds it difficult to believe that Zolanda took her own life. She suspects that Thelma Leggett had something to do with the psychic’s death.”

  “She’s not the only one holding that theory. A lot of people in town are convinced that Leggett murdered her boss.”

  “Why?

  “The folks I talked to assume that Leggett murdered her boss in order to steal money or jewelry.”

  Adelaide frowned. “Where did you hear all this?”

  “The hardware store. Where else? Women get their local news at the beauty shop. Men get it at the hardware store.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “I learned something else about Zolanda today. While she was here in Burning Cove she was a regular at the Paradise Club. The night she died was the one night she did not go to the club.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Luther Pell.”

  Adelaide stilled. “Florence mentioned that you and Mr. Pell are acquainted.”

  “Pell and I met each other a few years ago.”

  “I see.”

  “Luther also mentioned that Thelma Leggett usually drove Zolanda to the club and escorted her inside. After seeing her boss settled into a booth at the Paradise, Leggett was in the habit of going to the Carousel, a club on the other side of town. But on the night of Zolanda’s death, Leggett evidently took her boss straight back to the villa. Leggett showed up at the Carousel as usual. She left around three thirty in the morning. No one saw her after that.”

  “What does that tell us?”

  “It could indicate that Zolanda expected to meet someone after the show.”

  “Maybe.” Adelaide waved the issue aside. “But it could just as easily mean that she was exhausted from the performance. Either way, it still leaves Leggett as the chief suspect.”

  “After I talked to Luther it occurred to me that it might be interesting to go to the Paradise Club tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Luther also told me that Zolanda was not the only regular who did not show up at the club on the night that Zolanda died. Dr. Calvin Paxton has made a practice of appearing at the Paradise on most nights. He usually comes in around midnight and sits at Miss Westlake’s table. They have a few drinks and a few dances together, and then they both leave in separate cars around three in the morning.”

  “So?”

  “On the night Zolanda died, Vera Westlake arrived at the Paradise Club around midnight, as usual, but Paxton never joined her.”

  Adelaide gave that some thought. “Maybe Paxton decided to go somewhere else after Zolanda’s performance. The bar at the Burning Cove Hotel is also very popular with the Hollywood set.”

  Jake shook his head. “Luther talked to his friend Oliver Ward, who owns the Burning Cove Hotel. Paxton is staying there but he called for his car around seven o’clock. He drove himself to the Palace Theater, where he met Vera Westlake. Following the performance, Paxton seems to have disappeared until he returned to the Burning Cove Hotel around four thirty that morning.”

  “Maybe Paxton went to one of the other nightspots in town.”

  “It’s possible, but Paxton likes to hang out with celebrities. He’s not the sort to spend a night at a joint like the Carousel. Look, under most circumstances I wouldn’t have given Paxton’s failure to show up at the Paradise or the bar at the Burning Cove on any given night a second thought. But Luther came up with one other interesting fact. A few days before her final performance, Zolanda and Paxton both left the Paradise Club together in Paxton’s car. Evidently, Paxton offered to give her a ride back to her villa. But the valet said that when they got into the vehicle, they were arguing.”

  “What about?”

  “The valet said that all he overheard was something about running out of time. He said he didn’t hear anything else, but it was clear they were not on friendly terms.”

  “Hmm.” Adelaide leaned back against the counter and folded her arms. “Paxton might be able to account for his whereabouts on the night Zolanda died but we can’t ask him outright for the information. We’re not the police.”

  “No, but it might be interesting to observe Paxton in his natural habitat, so to speak.”

  Adelaide raised her brows. “Meaning?”

  “If he stays true to form, he’ll be at the Paradise Club tonight.”

  “Which is why you’ll be there, too.”

  “Correction. You and I are both going to the Paradise tonight.”

  Startled, Adelaide unfolded her arms and s
traightened away from the counter. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It will look like we’re out on a date.”

  Jake smiled. “That is more or less the whole point of the exercise.”

  “But we’ve been telling everyone that you’re my new boarder.” Adelaide realized she was waving her arms. She forced herself to stop. “People will get the wrong impression.”

  “Got news for you. The boarder story isn’t working very well.”

  She winced. “You heard that at the hardware store?”

  “I told you, hardware stores are hotbeds of local gossip.”

  “Apparently so. You do realize I haven’t a thing to wear—not to a swanky place like the Paradise. I’ll have to go shopping after the tearoom closes today.”

  “This is my idea, so I’ll take care of the bill for the dress.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “No, you will not pay for my new dress. That will only add fuel to the gossip fire.”

  “You refer to the fire that is already burning?”

  Adelaide beetled her brows. “Shouldn’t you be installing locks or something?”

  “Oh, yeah. Locks.” Jake picked up the sack and headed for the kitchen door. “Let me know when you’re ready to do your shopping. I’ll drive you.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

  Jake paused, one hand on the doorknob. “We don’t know a lot about what is going on here in Burning Cove, but we do know that someone was watching your cottage on the night that a famous psychic died. Until we get some answers, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

  She almost blurted out the truth. She didn’t know anything more than the police did about Zolanda’s death, but she did have some idea of who might be watching her. The problem was that if she told Jake everything, there was a very real possibility that he would conclude she was crazy. What man in his right mind would trust an escapee from an insane asylum?

  It wasn’t as if he had been entirely straightforward with her, either, she reminded herself.

  She focused on the immediate problem of obtaining an affordable dress that would get her through the exclusive doors of the Paradise Club.

  “You don’t need to go shopping with me,” she said. She knew she sounded stiff and tense. “I’ve got a friend who knows all about the latest fashions and where to find them here in town.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Hours,” she said with a cold smile, silently daring him to complain about the shopping process.

  “Take your time. Luther invited me to play a round of golf this afternoon. I’ll give him a call and tell him I’m free.”

  Chapter 25

  “That’s the gown,” Raina announced. “It fits you beautifully and the deep turquoise blue enhances your eyes. You look sophisticated and mysterious. That’s exactly the right impression to make at a place like the Paradise Club.”

  “Miss Kirk is correct,” the saleswoman gushed. “She has an excellent eye for fashion.”

  Adelaide studied herself in the dressing room mirror. Raina and the saleswoman were right, she thought. The ankle-length gown was very flattering. The lustrous satin was cut on the bias so that it flowed effortlessly over the body and flared out below the hips. It would look terrific on a dance floor.

  The front was styled with a demure, high neck but the back plunged to the waist with nothing more than a few decorative strips of fabric to secure it. It was a gown designed for a night of glamour and seduction.

  She had purchased similar gowns in those first giddy weeks after Conrad Massey had moved into her life. And then one day she had awakened in a hospital gown in a locked room at Rushbrook. She shuddered at the memory.

  Raina’s brows snapped together. She leaned forward and lowered her voice.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  Adelaide pulled herself together. “Yes, I’m fine. Just dealing with the shock of the price tag on this little number, that’s all.”

  “No need to worry about the price,” the saleswoman said airily. “I’ll give you a twenty percent discount because you’ll be seen in the gown at the Paradise Club. That is excellent advertising for my shop. All you need now are a pair of smart shoes, a wrap, some earrings, and the right evening bag, and you’re all set for a night on the town.”

  Reality struck Adelaide with staggering force. She could—just barely—manage to pay for the dress. The accessories the saleswoman suggested were out of the question.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She reached around behind herself to find the hidden zipper. “The dress is lovely but you’re right, it needs all the appropriate trimmings. I’m afraid I’m on a strict budget.”

  Alarmed, the saleswoman started talking very quickly. “I’m sure we can find a few things in your price range.”

  “The accessories will not be a problem,” Raina said. “I think I’ve got a bag and a wrap that will go nicely with that dress. I also have some earrings that will work, as well. That just leaves the shoes. Unfortunately, mine will be too big for you, Adelaide, although we might be able to wad up some tissue to stuff into the toes.”

  The saleswoman smiled a mysterious saleswoman smile. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  Adelaide and Raina looked at each other.

  “I’ve got news for you,” Raina said quietly. “Not a lot but it might prove useful. I’ll tell you when we’re finished here.”

  “Does it have anything to do with Thelma Leggett?”

  “Yes.”

  The saleswoman appeared as if by magic. A pair of strappy, high-heeled dancing sandals dangled from her fingers. The shoes were made of silver leather. They seemed to radiate starlight.

  Adelaide gazed at them, mesmerized.

  “Oh, my,” Raina said softly. “Yes, indeed, I think those will do nicely.”

  “I’m sure they’re too expensive,” Adelaide began.

  “I was going to put them on sale next week,” the saleswoman said. “I’ll let you have them for the sale price now.”

  “We’ll take them,” Raina said.

  Adelaide looked at her. “I can’t afford them, even if they’re on sale.”

  “I’ll loan you the money if necessary,” Raina said.

  Adelaide gave up. “All right. But only if they fit.”

  The shoes fit as if they had been made for her. Adelaide took a deep breath and opened her handbag to take out her wallet. At the rate she was going through money, she might have to take in a real boarder after Jake left town.

  By the time she and Raina left the dress shop, she was feeling dazed by the amount of money she had just spent. It was not as if she still had access to her inheritance, she reminded herself. She was living on a waitress’s wages.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Raina said. “Think of the dress and the shoes as an investment.”

  “In what?” Adelaide said. “I’ll probably never wear them again.”

  “You live in Burning Cove now. Trust me, you will have other opportunities to wear that gown and those fabulous shoes. Let’s have coffee and then we can go to my place to pick up the wrap, the earrings, and the evening bag.”

  “I need something to help me get over the shock of spending all that money. I suppose it’s too early for a martini.”

  “Save the martini for tonight when you’re actually wearing the new dress and the shoes,” Raina said.

  They found a small, shaded table at an outdoor café in a busy shopping plaza. Smartly dressed women with bags from various nearby stores strolled past, chatting with friends and discussing the latest fashions.

  She was not a huge fan of coffee—she preferred tea—but it was good to have coffee with a friend, Adelaide thought. It made her feel almost normal.

  She and Raina were gradually working their way into a deeper friendship. One day they mig
ht even feel free to exchange their most closely guarded secrets. But that day had not yet arrived. How did you tell a new acquaintance that a few months ago you had been diagnosed as having suffered a nervous breakdown? That you had been used as a test subject in a secret experiment conducted in an insane asylum by a doctor who was later murdered?

  A story like that would make even a very good friend question your sanity.

  When the coffee was delivered, Raina raised her cup in a small salute.

  “Here’s to a great evening out,” she said.

  “You do realize this isn’t a date.” Adelaide fortified herself with a sip of the strong coffee. “Jake and I are curious about Dr. Paxton because he seems to have gone missing on the night Zolanda died. But I doubt that we’ll learn anything useful. You said you had some news of Thelma Leggett?”

  “Not a lot,” Raina said. “Not yet. But I’ve been doing some thinking and there are a couple of things that bother me. The first is that Thelma Leggett was not a big or muscular woman. She was, in fact, shorter and more slightly built than her boss. So how did she manage to overcome Zolanda and push her off the roof? For that matter, how did she manage to convince Zolanda to go up to the roof in the first place?”

  Adelaide lowered her coffee cup. “You don’t believe that Thelma Leggett murdered Zolanda, do you?”

  “Anything is possible and we still don’t have many facts, but, no; the more I consider the question, the more I’m inclined to think that Leggett wasn’t the one who pushed Zolanda off that roof—assuming she was pushed. Jake Truett seems convinced that Zolanda was in the blackmail business. If that’s true, it leaves us with a lot of suspects.”

  “That’s what Jake says.”

  “I am not convinced that Thelma Leggett murdered Zolanda but I agree with Truett—we need to find her. She’s the only one who can shed some light on the death of her boss. I’ve done some research. Leggett and Zolanda both lived in L.A. but Leggett wouldn’t dare go home. It’s the first place the police would have looked.”

  “Then she’s on the road? Maybe holed up in an auto court someplace?”

  “Maybe, but there may be a more likely possibility. My contact in L.A. says he talked to one of Leggett’s neighbors who told him that a few years ago Leggett’s mother died and left her some property on the coast. The neighbor said there was a cabin on the property. I’m trying to find out where it’s located.”

 
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