could pick up on their discussion, and even if they did happen to talk about the murder of Gray Gordon, what difference would that make? They’d just be saying things like, “It’s so horrible!” and “What a shame!” and “Tut tut tut.” Not much to be learned from that. The stakeout of Sardi’s, I sadly admitted to myself, had been a stupid idea. It seemed all I would be able to do was just sit there and watch the suspects have a good time.
“So what makes you think Aunt Doobie is Cupcake?” Abby asked, as soon as the waiter disappeared.
“Yeah, Paige!” Willy echoed. “You’d better fill us in.”
“Oh, it’s pretty simple, really,” I said, keeping an eye on the suspects while I talked to my sidekicks. “First, there’s the use of the word ‘Aunt,’ which Willy says is a term of endearment between homosexuals, and then there’s the fact that Aunt Doobie left a hotel room number in his phone message to Gray. That’s a pretty clear indication that he expected Gray to meet him there, wouldn’t you say? Add to that the fact that Aunt Doobie was at a party for homosexuals only at the Keller Hotel, and that his virility, youth, and gorgeous good looks were a perfect match for Gray’s… you see what I mean? All these little clues suggest that Gray and Aunt Doobie were lovers. And since Gray called his lover Cupcake… well, you get the connection.”
“I do now,” Abby said. “And everything you said makes perfect sense. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?” asked Willy.
“Since we don’t know who Aunt Doobie is,” Abby answered, “we don’t know who Cupcake is either.”
“Right,” I said. “I wanted to go back to the Mayflower Hotel to look for him again, but I couldn’t find the time. And he’s probably checked out by now. I told Flannagan about him, and gave him his hotel room number, but who knows if the not-so-diligent dick ever did anything about it. I’ll call him at the station tomorrow and see what I can find out.”
“You should have sent
me to the Mayflower,” Abby whined. “I bet I could have dug up some answers!”
“Yes, but to which questions?” I said. “We don’t need to know if Aunt Doobie can be seduced by a woman, or how good he is in bed. That information isn’t germane to the case.”
“Oh, shut up, Paige!” Abby snapped. “I would have found out more than that!” She thrust her now cigaretteless holder, like a sword, in my direction.
“Girls! Girls!” Willy cried, patting us each on our arms to steady us. “Behave yourselves! You’re in Sardi’s, for heaven’s sake. You’re supposed to act like ladies.”
I was about to apologize to Abby for my rude remark when I saw Rhonda Blake and Barbara Bel Geddes stand up from their table. They said a few words to the men, picked up their purses, and began to walk, arm-in-arm, toward the far corner of the dining room.
“Look!” I yelped. “Rhonda and Barbara are going to the ladies’ room together!” I scooted my chair away from the table. “I’m going to follow them in there, see what they have to they say to each other.”
“I’ll go with you,” Abby said, jumping to her feet like a jackrabbit.
“No!” I said, standing to face her. “Rhonda will recognize you-if not from your looks, then definitely from your personality. She’ll never even notice me. But here’s what you
can do. While the ladies and I are in the bathroom, you can hop over to their table and work your magic on the men. Not one of them has ever seen you before. I’m guessing you’ll be able to direct the scene and find out anything you want to know.”
“Good idea,” she said, shooting me a devilish look. “Maybe they’ll tell me when the hell James Dean is going to show up.”
AS SOON AS ABBY BEGAN MAKING HER way toward the other table, I gave Willy a cagey nod and struck off for the ladies’ lounge. I was excited and energized. Maybe our Sardi’s expedition wouldn’t be a total bust after all. Maybe I’d be able to pick up some tiny yet valuable clue that would lead us, if not directly to the murderer, then at least in the right direction.
If I knew Abby, she would come back loaded with information. Way too much information, probably, but some of it could turn out to be useful. If she would just focus her attentions on Baldy and Binky instead of Gazarra and Kazan (which, I realized, was a very big if!), she might gain some important insights (i.e., killer insights). I just hoped she wouldn’t make too big a show of herself-give away more information than she took in.
These were the thoughts that were spinning around in my head as I hurried toward the ladies’ room. All of my other concerns about the case, including the grave danger it posed to my own personal life and safety, had been shoved to the back burner. I was concentrating on more productive things, primarily the successful execution of my clue-hunting-hopefully fact-finding-excursion to the lavatory.
So when I turned the corner near the bar and caught sight of an amorous couple embracing in the darkened hallway outside the ladies’ room, I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t fully understand what my eyes were seeing. It took several seconds for the unexpected and oh-so-intimate image to take shape in my brain. Even then, the picture was fuzzy and incomplete.
I had no idea who the woman was, but I could see that she was young and beautiful, and that her arms were locked around the neck of a very handsome man. I could tell that her body was pressed so tight against his there wasn’t a single molecule of light or air between them. I could see that she was drawing his face closer and closer to hers, and I had no trouble detecting the very moment their mouths came together in a deep, greedy, soul-rocking kiss.
What I
couldn’t so easily perceive or comprehend was the mind-shattering, heart-wrenching fact that the man being kissed-the man so eagerly engaged in enjoying and returning the passionate embrace-was Dan.
Chapter 30
I ALMOST FAINTED. THE SIGHT OF DAN kissing another woman was so shocking and unbearable to me, my consciousness tried to leap out of my skull and take off for parts unknown. But I wouldn’t let it go. For some perverse reason, I fought like the devil to hold on-to stay cognizant and on my feet. And once I had balanced myself, I continued to stand there in a zombie daze for several seconds, gaping at the torturous scene before me, absorbing every painful detail like a witless sponge.
The woman was astonishingly beautiful (not as beautiful as Abby, but close to it). With her perfect figure, creamy complexion, and long, wavy red-gold hair, she looked a lot more like Rita Hayworth than I did-a fact that became obvious when she finally removed her lips from Dan’s, threw back her head (thus revealing her stunning profile), and released a deep, throaty laugh that sounded so glamorous and seductive I wished I’d been born deaf.
Dan was entranced. I could tell by the way he was studying her every move and expression. His coal-black eyes were crackling with heat, and he was staring at her the way he used to stare at me when something I’d said or done had suddenly put him in the mood.
Heart fracturing into a thousand pieces, and feeling desperate to get out of there before Dan “came to” and caught sight of me, I spun around on Abby’s red satin heels and staggered back toward our table in the dining room. Tears were coursing down my cheeks in torrents.
“Oh, mercy!” Willy squealed, the very second he saw me approach. His big blue eyes were popping out of their sockets. “What’s the matter? What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” He jumped out of his chair, grabbed hold of my shaking shoulders, and gazed up at me in alarm.
“I… I… yes,” I blubbered. “I’m so hurt… I can’t b-b-believe…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. I was sobbing and shivering too hard to speak. People at the nearby tables were starting to stare.