Love Can Be Murder

approaching.
    Jolie turned around to greet the arrivals, and nearly choked. Beck Underwood and his sister stood there, both of them giving Roger wary glances. It suddenly hit her that Beck had mentioned his sister had once dated Roger. Jolie ducked her head and frantically glanced around for an escape route, but found herself hemmed in between Roger and a gigantic sago palm tree. Desperate, she held up her wineglass to obscure her face.
    "Hi, Della," LeMon said, dipping his chin.
    "Hello, Roger," Della replied, her voice surprisingly tentative for an heiress, although based on the dark circles beneath her eyes, the woman looked a little under the weather.
    "Hey, Beck," LeMon said a little too loudly. "Long time, no see. I hear you've been living with natives, or something like that."
    "Or something like that," Beck said coolly.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Jolie saw Roger's hand twitch as he suddenly realized he didn't have a drink—Jolie was still holding his glass. When he reached for it, Jolie felt all eyes land on her, and she dreaded looking up. When she did, newly shorn Beck Underwood, exquisite in a black suit, white shirt, and silvery tie, was studying her, then "Betty." Jolie averted her gaze and hoped like heck he didn't put two and two together and get two—namely, her and Carlotta.
    "We came over to congratulate Kyle," his sister said, extending her hand and a smile to the inebriated man. "Dad couldn't be here tonight, but he can't say enough about your work on the Yesterdays series."
    Kyle Coffee must have realized the significance of the Underwoods' presence because he visibly tried to gather himself. "Thank you," he said, shaking hands with Della, then Beck. "Good to see you b–back, B–Beck," he ventured, but the alliteration was too much for his sloshy tongue to handle and he giggled nervously. "Uh...meet our new friends," he said to cover his gaffe.
    Jolie was caught.
    "Della and Beck Underwood, this is Betty and...and... Linda !" Kyle said, proud of himself for remembering.
    Carlotta nodded graciously. "Hallo."
    "Oh, you're from England," Della Underwood said. "What part?"
    "London," Carlotta said without missing a beat.
    "What part of London?" Beck Underwood asked mildly.
    Jolie's heart began to trip overtime. He was on to them.
    "Liverpool Street," Carlotta said triumphantly.
    "Ah. Near the station, or in the city?"
    Carlotta's smile faltered for a split second. "Er, near the station...of course."
    He nodded, then he looked at Jolie and his eyes danced with mischief. "Linda—it is Linda, right?"
    She nodded, feeling like an idiot.
    "Are you from London also?"
    "N-No," she stammered in her resurrected Southern accent.
    "Linda is an attorney from Vinings," Carlotta offered, trying to be helpful.
    " Is she?" Beck asked, his eyebrows lifted.
    "Beck Underwood," a woman's voice said behind them. "I knew our paths would cross again."
    They all turned, and Jolie's intestines twisted at the sight of the blonde gliding their way dressed in shocking pink. Sammy "Sold" Sanders.
    This night just kept getting better.

Chapter Eleven

    WATCHING SAMMY SANDERS introduce herself around the circle was painful because the woman personified every stereotype that had plagued the real-estate business for decades: shellacked hair, cheesy smile, and an elbow-wagging handshake straight out of Realty 101. Jolie decided to take her chances climbing over the palm tree, but came up short when Roger LeMon hooked his arm in hers.
    "You're not leaving ." It was more of a statement than a question. He glanced toward Della Underwood for a split second, and it hit Jolie like a thunderbolt that he wanted to make the woman jealous. Her flash of anger dissipated when she considered the ramifications—and complications—of unresolved feelings between Roger and Della. A memory stirred...something Beck had said when she'd asked about his return to Atlanta. " My sister was going through some things I wanted to be here for ."
    A love affair gone bad?
    By the time Jolie had processed the new possibilities, Sammy was standing in front of her. "I'm Sammy," she said, grabbing Jolie's hand for a pump that would have brought up water from the Sahara.
    "Linda," Jolie murmured.
    "Hey, Linda just moved here," Kyle Coffee boomed. "Maybe she needs a house."
    Sammy went from seven hundred and fifty watts to one thousand. "Really?"
    "No...no," Jolie said as quickly as her acquired drawl would allow. "I don't need a house."
    Sammy's face fell,