The Villa
blowing off steam. I let it go. Sophia often blew off steam that way. I never thought she meant what she said. But she did. He knew she'd been involved in embezzlement, and she killed him for it."
"So." Maguire tipped back her chair when she and her partner were alone. "You buy any of that?"
"For somebody who didn't sleep last night, she looked pretty alert. For somebody terrified and upset, she remembered to match her shoes to her purse and coordinate her hose."
"You're a real fashion cop, partner. No way she just came across these papers. She'd have been through every drawer, closet and cubbyhole within a day of his death, to make sure she had access to every penny."
"Maguire, I don't think you like the widow Avano."
"I don't like people who think I'm stupid. Question: If she had these papers all along, why turn them over now? If she didn't have them before, who passed them to her?"
"DeMorney's in San Francisco." Claremont tapped the tips of his fingers together. "Wonder how far he and the widow go back."
"One thing for certain, they've both got it in for the Giambellis, and that one wants to put the screws to Sophia G, and she wants it bad."
"Bad enough to give a false statement to the police."
"Oh hell, she enjoyed that. And she's smart enough to know she didn't say anything we could hook her on. We can't prove if and when she found those papers. And if it came down to it, the argument scene would be her word against Sophia's, who's likely to have argued with her father at some point during the last year of his life. No way to cook her on that even if we wanted to bother."
"Never made sense for her to marry Avano and kill him the day after. She doesn't gel there for me. Doesn't gain her anything, and she's in it for what she can get."
"If we bought this, she could cop a little revenge. That's what she's after now."
"Yeah, and so's DeMorney." Claremont rose. "Let's see how tight we can link them."
CHAPTER THIRTY
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Rene slithered onto the sofa beside Jerry and accepted the flute of champagne. "I got some very interesting information at the salon today."
"What might that be?"
"I'll tell you." She ran a fingertip down the center of his shirt. "But it'll cost you."
"Really?" He took her hand, lifted it to bite gently on her wrist.
"Oh, that's nice, too, but I want something a little different. Let's go out, lover. I'm so tired of staying in. Take me out to a club where there're people and music and wicked things going on."
"Honey, you know I'd love to. It's not smart for us to be seen together in public quite yet."
She pouted, nuzzled against him. "We'll go somewhere nobody knows us. And even if they do, Tony's been dead for months and months. No one expects me to grieve alone forever."
From the reports that had winged back across the Atlantic, Rene hadn't grieved alone for a week. "Just a little while longer. I'll make it up to you. When we're finished here with everything and everyone, we'll go to Paris. Now what did you find out today?"
"To borrow from that slut Kris's lexicon, bitch number three is giving bitch number two a little party on Friday night—wedding eve. All females. She's setting up a damn spa in the villa for the night. Facials, body treatments, massages, the works."
"And what will the men be doing while the women are getting themselves scrubbed and rubbed?"
"Watching porno flicks and jerking off, I suppose. They're holding their bachelor-night deal at the MacMillan place. The bride and groom aren't allowed to do the dirty the night before the wedding. Hypocrites."
"This is interesting." And exactly what he'd been waiting for. "We'll know just where everyone is. And the timing couldn't be better, right before the happy event. Rene, you're a jewel."
"I don't want to be one. I just want to have them."
"A week from now, we'll be in Paris, and I'll take care of that. But first, you and I have a date on Friday night at Villa Giambelli."
She wanted it to be perfect, the kind of night they'd all remember and laugh about for years. She'd planned it, organized it, fine-tuned the details right down to the scent of the candles for the aromatherapy treatments. In twenty-four hours, Sophia thought, her mother would be dressing for her wedding, but for her last evening as a single woman, she was going to bask in a world of females.
"When we have our products, maybe we should sell direct to spas for a while." Maddy sniffed at the oils already arranged by the
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