Love Can Be Murder

AROUND and her heart slammed in her chest at the sight of LeMon's thin mouth pressed into a flat line as he considered their threesome. He walked up and put his arm around Kyle Coffee's shoulder, then pulled the man's head close to his. "Isn't that right, Kyle?" he asked in a tone that might have been good-natured except for his precise enunciation. "Your wife doesn't like that tattoo because it's in a more visible place than the others."
    Kyle blinked at Roger dumbly, then nodded. "That'z right, Roger," he lisped around the cigar in his mouth.
    Roger slapped him on the back. "I called you a cab, man. It's time for you to say good night."
    "Okay," the man mumbled.
    "I'll walk you out," LeMon said, and guided his big friend toward the doors. LeMon turned his head to give Jolie a suspicious glare, then herded Coffee inside.
    Jolie exhaled.
    "Coffee was getting ready to tell us something," Carlotta said. "I just know it!"
    "Maybe. I wanted to ask him if he knew Gary."
    "So call him. Make up a story."
    "Right," Jolie murmured, except she doubted that Kyle Coffee would be as forthcoming when he was sober. And she was starting to feel as if this whole situation was getting out of hand. She didn't know which details might be relevant and which details might take her on a tangent. Plus she was feeling antsy that she hadn't heard from Gary again. She needed to talk to Detective Salyers, try to convince the woman to consider the possibility that Gary had been set up without revealing that she'd seen him. She gazed out into the inky darkness, and nearly swallowed her cigarette when she saw a figure move, then approach the patio.
    "Hiya," Hannah said, stepping up onto the concrete. Jolie's shoulders fell and a shiver overtook her. She needed food...and her life back.
    Even Carlotta looked a little spooked, but recovered quickly. "Oh, hey. You startled me."
    Hannah wore skinny black pants and a long flowing jacket that looked a bit vampire-ish. Her hair was slicked back from her slender face and gelled into place. Her makeup was dark and dramatic, and her chandelier-style earrings looked like little swords strung together. Retro Gothica. A fetish, or a lifestyle? Jolie had the sudden sensation that she wouldn't want to encounter Hannah Kizer on a dark street during the witching hour.
    Hannah looked at Jolie's ensemble, wig to shoes. "Wow, I wouldn't have recognized you."
    "Carlotta helped."
    "Yeah, I've told Carlotta if she ever wanted to go underground, she could pull it off."
    Carlotta drew on her cigarette. Jolie wondered if she were thinking about the money she'd have to come up with by next Friday.
    Hannah looked back and forth between them. "Why are you two so jumpy?"
    Jolie sent a warning glance to Carlotta. She didn't want to tell anyone about Gary who didn't need to know.
    "This party was a tough nut to crack," Carlotta said, passing her half-smoked cigarette to Hannah, indicating she could finish it. "I'm Betty and she's Linda. If I break into a British accent, just go along."
    Hannah shrugged. "Okay."
    On the way back inside, Jolie stopped to grind her cigarette into the bowl of white sand and noticed the postcard that Kyle Coffee had used to light his cigar. On impulse, she pulled the stiff, cream-colored card out of the sand and unrolled it, flicking off the charred ends.
    A party invitation...to Sammy Sanders' house the following evening—the same invitation Jolie had seen her press into Beck Underwood's hand.

    You're invited to a champagne pajama party.

    Jolie lifted an eyebrow. She'd heard rumors at the agency about the parties that Sammy hosted at her posh Buckhead residence, but of course she'd never been invited. According to the postcard, the attire was sleepwear, the guest list was exclusive, and invitations had to be presented at the door. Apparently Sammy had moved through the crowd tonight, picking and choosing her guests.
    Jolie smiled wryly. Even disguised, she wasn't good enough for Sammy.
    Tucking the creased invitation inside her purse, she followed Carlotta and Hannah back inside, where no one questioned Hannah's entry. They headed for the food tables as Hannah told them which items to avoid and which items to sample. Jolie filled a small plate with non-red-sauce foods and ate enough to dispel the slight buzz she'd gotten from the wine—she needed to be clearheaded for the drive home.
    Beneath the wig, her scalp itched like crazy. The contact lenses felt gritty in her dry eyes. Her feet...Well,