Love Can Be Murder

but I guess I'll just play it by ear."
    "Wait—a name, you need a name!"
    "Right. How about...Linda?"
    "Okay, and I'll be Betty." Carlotta grinned. "I've always loved that name." She opened her purse and removed a small white container. "I have a little disguise of my own."
    Jolie watched her withdraw what looked like a retainer, then insert it into her mouth. When Carlotta turned and grinned, the gap between her front teeth was gone, replaced by perfect, sparkling white incisors. A slight adjustment, a remarkable change.
    "Wow," Jolie murmured.
    Carlotta shrugged. "My dentist is always after me to get caps, but I kind of like my smile. My father always said it gave me character." Her voice dropped an octave when she mentioned her father.
    "Are your parents still living?" Jolie asked quietly.
    "Yeah," Carlotta said with a stark laugh, opening her door. "If you can call it that. Ready?"
    Jolie sensed more to Carlotta's story, but nodded and opened her own door, reminding herself that she had a reason for attending tonight's party besides bonding with Carlotta—although that idea suddenly held more appeal than dogging Roger LeMon. She stood, adjusted her clothes, and took a few tentative steps in the stiff shoes. "I hope I don't fall."
    "You'll get used to them," Carlotta said.
    But by the time they made it to the elevator and rode down to the ground floor, her feet were already chafed from the cardboard stays. The guilt of wearing the pricey outfit and the unfamiliar snugness of the wig seemed to weigh her down, making each footstep more difficult.
    "You look like you're in pain," Carlotta chastised.
    "I am in pain."
    "Just think of how good your outfit looks and that'll make you feel better."
    "At least we don't have far to go," Jolie said, turning toward the glass door that led from the garage into the hotel.
    "We're going this way," Carlotta said, pointing in the opposite direction.
    Jolie frowned. "What are you up to?"
    Carlotta gave her a secret smile. "You'll see."
    Jolie followed her to a side exit of the garage and out onto the sidewalk, then looked around to get her bearings. They were past the hotel and around the corner. In fact, most of the cars turning down the side street were taxis and limousines presumably circling back around to Peachtree Street after dropping guests at the hotel. Carlotta turned to the right and headed toward the street corner, farther still from their destination.
    Clutching her bag closer to her body, Jolie was besieged by a sudden case of nerves, wondering how she'd made the leap from nice and predictable to...here.
    Maybe Sammy Sanders had been right. Maybe she was out of her mind to leave her comfy job. What did it say about her that she could let Gary's disappearance throw her life into chaos? She wasn't even sure how she still felt about him, but his disappearance had been a catalyst in her life. Carlotta's earlier words resonated in her memory, in her heart. Your life is more exciting than mine .
    A few steps ahead of her, Carlotta stepped to the curb and flagged down a shiny black limo, then leaned in a lowered window and spoke to the driver. The woman's body language was pure flirtation. Suddenly she turned and beckoned Jolie forward. "Come on, we're going to arrive in style."
    Jolie blinked the swimmy contact lenses into place, scooted forward in her stiff shoes and murmured, "Suddenly, my life is more exciting than mine."

Chapter Ten

    JOLIE SLID IN NEXT TO CARLOTTA on the long, black bench seat of the limousine. "We're taking a limo around the block?"
    "It's all about perception," Carlotta said. "People will assume we're somebody important if we arrive in a service."
    Jolie wasn't about to argue, because her feet were screaming for relief. And although the ride was over before her tootsies could get a break, Jolie conceded a little thrill of excitement when a gloved hotel doorman opened the door and helped her out onto the carpet under the canopied entrance, and people turned to look. "Are you ladies here for the broadcasters reception?"
    "Yes," Carlotta said in a clipped voice, ringing with unmistaken authority. "Could you point us in the right direction, please?"
    "Straight ahead to the lobby, then left," the doorman said, beaming at the women.
    Carlotta folded a tip into his hand. "Thank you indeed."
    Jolie was conscious of other people's heads pivoting with interest as they walked toward the open double doors. The women seemed intrigued; the men were more blatant