Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

didn’t have any black in her closet,” I said. I closed my eyes, remembering how she had her dresses arranged by color.
    “She had youth on her side,” Lily said with a sigh. “A fresh young thing can wear anything and look beautiful.” I thought she could do with a lump of sugar. “You don’t look old enough to even have a daughter,” I said. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
    As I’d hoped, the compliment cheered her up. Probably because it was true.
    “Merci beaucoup.” Lily tossed me a smile in the mirror and opened a closet door, pulling out a frothy pink concoction. “I haven’t worn this since….” Her voice trailed off, and she drooped a little before holding the dress up in front of herself.
    “You’re right about redheads in pink, but no strapless getup, either.”
    “This is a gown, not a getup,” Lily scolded me. “You’re being very critical.”
    “Listen, I’m no fashion editor, and I’d love to see you peacock it some other time. But part of being a successful moll is dressing for the job. You don’t want that top to fall down around your waist if you have to swing into action, do you?”
    Lily cast the dress aside dramatically, but I noticed that she aimed it for the chair, where it floated in for a successful landing. She wasn’t going to mess up her gown, despite her dramatic gesture. “So, you do need a moll!”
    “Yes, Lily, I admit it. Would you please be my moll tonight?” I asked.
    “You should be down on one knee,” she said, crossing her arms.

    170

    CATT FORD

    “Hey, I’m not proposing! And only if you help me up after,” I said. She’d seen the bruise after all when she’d come into the guestroom to wake me and won my heart forever by not making a fuss over it. Also, she brought me coffee. What a dame. And after several cups of her coffee and some judicious stretching, I was good as new.
    The door to the dressing room opened to admit Celestine, who was carrying a boatload of gowns in pretty colors over her arm. She glared at me. “You should not be here, m’sieur.”
    “I’ll go out when Miss McIntyre is ready to change,” I said defensively.
    “It is not that.” Celestine was obviously not concerned with the proprieties. “It spoils the effect to see Madame in the moment of transformation.”
    “I’ll leave that to you,” I said tactfully. I had my reward.
    Celestine actually smiled at me for the first time and made a motion that might possibly have been a curtsy.
    “I have brought this for you to try on, Madame. Your private deeck is right, the pink is too daring for this operation. It should be unveiled upon a more auspicious occasion.” Okay, I wasn’t going to go on with her accent, but I kind of dug it when she said “dick” that way. Also, I wouldn’t have put it quite the way she did, but I still thought going strapless would be tempting fate.
    Especially where we were going.
    There was a folding screen in the dressing room, and Lily retired behind it to try on some of the dresses Celestine brought in. They looked brand new to me, so I wondered if maybe they’d been retired out of Lily’s closet at the death of her daughter. But none of us mentioned that, we just danced around the subject.
    “Tell me, Grey darling, do you have a girlfriend?”
    “Well, I have a friend and she’s a girl,” I said with a snicker, thinking of Charlie.
    “I’d love to meet her one day,” Lily said, coming out to peacock a daffodil yellow gown in the mirror.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    171

    I would never have thought that shade of yellow—with that hair—but she looked wonderful. “You probably would, but she’s not at all like you, Lily.”
    “They never are, my dear,” Lily said. She threw me a roguish glace over her shoulder before returning to her study of her reflection.
    “I’d forgotten how good I look in yellow.” It sounds arrogant, but it really wasn’t. In fact, it was almost somber hearing her assess her appearance. She’d been in grey and black for a very short time, but—
    “No, this doesn’t give off the right ambiance,” Lily decided.
    “I have it, Madame,” Celestine said.
    Lily disappeared behind the screen while I went over the plan again, listening to the silky rustlings of fabric and undertone conversation between them. I realized that Lily was speaking French, and she sounded as fluent as Celestine, who came out first to