Not One Clue_ A Mystery Part 27

I gave her a look.

"A very well-cast movie," she said. "But I'm even more impressed with your current role."

"Current role?" Ethan asked.

"Fani is working in Minsk," Sergio said.

Oh, dear G.o.d!

"Minsk," Laney repeated. "I didn't hear about that one. I've always wanted to go there. I hear it's beautiful. But how do you feel about the Belarus Democracy Act, Fani?"

I resisted gritting my teeth at her. "I did not have a great deal of time while there," I said.

"Busy, were you?" She said the word kind of funny, as if she might burst out laughing at any moment.

"Quite," I said.

"Film or television?"

"Television."

"HBO?"

"Lifetime," I said.

"Who's the producer?"

So she wanted to play. I tightened my grip on my overloaded plate and lobbed back a name I'd heard bandied about at such parties. "Terrence Riglio."

"The director?"

"Madeline Futone."

She raised one brow a tiny amount. "How about the set designer?"

"Francois," I said, remembering the good friend I kept in my bed-stand drawer. "Francois Desmarais," I said.

"Really? I thought he was dead."

"He's not," I said.

She did laugh now. Sergio was looking puzzled. But Ethan was just tripping along. "What's Riglio like to work with? I heard he can be kind of an a.s.s."

In for a penny, I thought. "He is like the Hulk Incredible when he is angry."

"So he's a monster?" Laney asked.

"Oui," I said. I said.

She nodded. "I've known a couple of those. Even created a few."

I gave her a nod for her wit.

"Who's the cinematographer?" Ethan asked.

Laney was smiling, happy as a songbird.

"Georgianna Winstead," I said easily. 'Cuz, s.h.i.t, I was in too deep to back out now. Might as well employ another woman while I was making c.r.a.p up.

"I don't think I know her," Ethan said.

"She is young," I said. "But has much talent. Do you not agree, Ms. Ruocco?"

"I think I'm feeling a little nauseous."

"Perhaps it is the champagne," I said.

"I think it's the baloney," she countered.

"They're serving baloney?" Ethan asked, and Laney broke eye contact, calling an unspoken truce.

"I think it might already be gone," she said, and smiled. "I heard they-" she began, stopping abruptly, and I knew immediately that I was in big-a.s.s trouble, because her eyes were shining with manic happiness. I stiffened even before she spoke. "Look who just arrived."

"Who?" I asked. I had lost my accent, and possibly my mind. I was scared to turn around. Terrified to look.

"Rivera," she said.

"You're lying," I hissed.

She raised her perfect brows. "I don't lie, Fani."

"It is true. She does not," Sergio said.

But I was already clasping Laney's arm. "You've got to get me out of here."

"Out of here? Don't be silly. The party's just started," she said, and patted my hand like I was a wayward child. "You've already met Brad without swooning. Mr. Rivera will be a piece of cake."

"I'm serious, Laney," I said, but just then I felt someone approach from behind and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my remaining minutes were limited.

21.

Of course I hate her. I just don't know why yet.-Christina McMullen, on more than one occasion I felt the hairs creep up on the back of my neck. Felt my face redden and my pulse fire up like a rocket ship. Lieutenant Rivera was right there, behind me. Why? I didn't know. Maybe Laney had suspected I would come here and worried for my safety. Maybe Murphy's Law was simply overactive during this particular phase of the moon. Or, for all I knew, Rivera might be invited to all the Hollywood shindigs. It wasn't as if I knew every intimate detail about him. Then again, it wasn't as if we were complete strangers, either. We had indulged in a little heavy petting, a bunch of long-winded kisses, and that one memorable shower situation. Not to mention the airing of a basketful of dirty laundry. Certainly we'd developed enough of an emotional connection to allow him to see through a cheap wig and a phony accent. felt the hairs creep up on the back of my neck. Felt my face redden and my pulse fire up like a rocket ship. Lieutenant Rivera was right there, behind me. Why? I didn't know. Maybe Laney had suspected I would come here and worried for my safety. Maybe Murphy's Law was simply overactive during this particular phase of the moon. Or, for all I knew, Rivera might be invited to all the Hollywood shindigs. It wasn't as if I knew every intimate detail about him. Then again, it wasn't as if we were complete strangers, either. We had indulged in a little heavy petting, a bunch of long-winded kisses, and that one memorable shower situation. Not to mention the airing of a basketful of dirty laundry. Certainly we'd developed enough of an emotional connection to allow him to see through a cheap wig and a phony accent.

Unless he was so enthralled with coppery b.o.o.bs and fake hair that he wouldn't even recognize me. In which case I'd kick him in- "Senator," Laney said, and smiled.

Senator! My heart did a hard thump in my fish-skinned chest. The senator was here? The dark lieutenant hadn't hadn't arrived to blow my cover and drag me off to the slammer? It was his political sire? I gave Laney a wild-eyed stare but she was busy beaming at the newcomer and studiously ignoring me. arrived to blow my cover and drag me off to the slammer? It was his political sire? I gave Laney a wild-eyed stare but she was busy beaming at the newcomer and studiously ignoring me.

"It's good to see you again," she said, and reached for his hand.

I turned, feeling hopeful and desperate and sick to my stomach all at once, but he was already kissing her knuckles and beyond noticing me.

"Your Majesty," he said, and gave her his trademark slicker-than-snot smile. Miguel Rivera had charmed women from p.u.b.erty to menopause with less. "You look as regal as ever."

For a moment I considered slinking into the crowd before he could withdraw from Laneyland, but even as the thought flittered through my sizzling brain, Laney turned her spiteful gaze on me.

"Senator, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

He straightened, and even as he shifted his attention toward me, I saw his eyes spark with Latino interest. It was then that my heart began pounding in my left ear.

"Senator Rivera ... Fani," Elaine said.

He caught my eyes with his. The world receded around us. For an instant I considered pa.s.sing out before he demanded to know why I was playing dress-up, but then he spoke.

"Fani," he repeated. His accent rolled over me like a tide washing me out to sea. "What an unusual name. You must be the queen's lady-in-waiting." Reaching for my hand, he bowed over it. "As lovely as Her Majesty herself."

I gritted my teeth at Laney, then smoothed it into a smile as he straightened.

"And what is your family name, lovely Fani?"

Oh, my h.e.l.l! What was Fani's last name? I didn't have a clue. Not an inkling. Not a flippin'- "I'm afraid she's not fluent in English, Senator," Laney said.

"Oh, my apologies," he said, and switched to Spanish.

I could literally feel the blood rush from my left ear to my cheeks, but I managed to shake my head.

He pulled back slightly as if surprised. "Hablas espanol?" "Hablas espanol?"

I shook my head harder.

Laney actually laughed. If she were any giddier she might very well burst into song. "I believe she is ..." She thought for a moment, eyes glowing with glee as she tried to place my weird-a.s.s accent. "French?"

"Ahhh ..." said the senator, then, "Quel est votre nom de famille?" "Quel est votre nom de famille?"

For several moments I hoped the world would end. Or, if not that, perhaps a bomb could explode under my feet. Wasn't L.A. supposed to be a dangerous city? What the h.e.l.l were all the d.a.m.ned crazed bombers doing this time of night?

I realized suddenly that I was holding my breath.

"Fani?" he said.

s.h.i.tski, I thought, and opened my mouth.

"I must ..." I paused, face burning and wondering frantically if there were still other people in the room. "... practice my anglais." anglais."

"Ahh." He was still holding my hand. "A laudable effort. When first I came to this country I, too, found the language problematic. But that was back ..." He stopped and laughed. His gaze never left my face. "Listen to me, rambling on when you must be famished." For a moment he flickered his attention to my overstuffed plate. "But you have no champagne." He drew back as if shocked. "As a gentleman and a Latino I feel it my duty to rectify the situation." He raised a hand without ever slipping his gaze from mine. A server appeared as if s.n.a.t.c.hed out of the sky. Rivera retrieved two gla.s.ses from his tray. "Please, eat," he said. "Seeing a woman indulge brings me great joy. There is something almost s.e.xual about the act when you are truly hungry, is there not?"

I stared at him. Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, I thought. He was coming on to me. Wasn't he? Yes, I was sure of it. Wasn't I? Rivera's father. The ex-senator was making a play for me. I was in purgatory and ... Looking over Laney's shoulder, I saw Solberg hurrying toward her and felt myself drop into h.e.l.l, heart rumbling like a freight train in my restricted chest. Every muscle was tensed for impact.

Sensing my mood like a mean-spirited clairvoyant, Laney raised one brow a quarter of an inch, then turned to follow the direction of my horror. She flickered her gaze over the crowd for a moment before her face lit with newfound joy.

I wanted quite desperately to plead for her silence, to waylay Solberg, to ...

But time had run out. He was beside her in an instant. Fortunately, he failed to do so much as glance my way. Laney was all-consuming. "I didn't see you at the door," he panted. "I was worried."

"I'm sorry," she said, turning toward him with a smile that melted all comers. Sergio and the others seemed to be gone. Perhaps they had dissolved in her effervescent presence. "I saw that Fani had arrived and wanted to say hi before she disappeared." We watched his face in tandem as he turned toward me. "I don't know if you two have met."

He glanced at me distractedly. "Hi."

I didn't bother to respond, but it hardly mattered; he had already turned back toward Laney.

"You didn't have any trouble with the doormen, did you, Angel?" he asked.

"No," she said, smile beatific. If I hadn't known her better I would have thought she didn't have a mean bone in her stunning little body. "Everything was fine. No problems. You've met Senator Rivera, haven't you, Jeen?"

"Sure." He gave the senator a brief nod before turning back to his obsession. "But I think there may be a bit of a miff with security," he said, and glanced behind him.

Laney's smile faltered a little. "What's that?"

"I, umm ... I'm not sure they believed I was with you," Solberg said, and just then I saw two burly guys in suits striding toward us. Solberg looked as pale as an anemic onion but stood his ground.

Burly One and Burly Two slowed slightly as they saw Elaine, then stopped six or so feet away, looking as if they didn't know if they should salute or pa.s.s out.

"Ms. Ruocco!" said the first one, eyes wide, jaw lax.

The other was slightly more controlled. "I'm sorry, Ms. Ruocco. Security's usually tighter. But this guy's so skinny. He slipped in between us and dashed off before we could-"

"Kevin," Laney said, and smiled at the speaker. "And Greg, isn't it?" she asked, shifting her gaze from one to the other. They stared at her in immediate infatuation. Laney never forgot a name. She probably still sent birthday cards to the midwife who had brought her into the world. Solberg, on the other hand, frequently forgot who I I was. was.

The bouncers were still staring at Laney. The larger of the two looked as if he was going to cry.

"I'd like you to meet my fiance," Laney said.

For a moment the oversized duo looked confused, then disbelieving. Then they both both looked as if they were going to burst into tears. looked as if they were going to burst into tears.

"I'm sorry ..." Kevin c.o.c.ked his head a little, obviously not buying such a wild tale. "I thought you said ..."

"Kevin, Greg, this is Jeen," she said, and tucked a hand behind J.D.'s scrawny biceps. And f.u.c.k all if Solberg didn't look as if he he was about to cry. was about to cry.

I resisted rolling my eyes.

"I'm sorry ... I just ..." Greg glanced at Kevin as if to make certain the world was still round, that the Earth still revolved around the sun, that there was still a G.o.d, then he tilted his head a little. "The music ... it's kind of loud." He flickered his gaze to Solberg, as if to rea.s.sess, but nothing about his following demeanor suggested he thought himself out of line. "And I sustained a little hearing damage in Baghdad. I'm pretty sure I didn't hear you right."

"Gentlemen," said the senator. In retrospect, I don't know how he kept a straight face. Had I not been absolutely certain I was about to be dragged from the room by security myself, I would have been on the floor in st.i.tches. "I believe there's been a misunderstanding. But as you can see, Mr. Solberg is, indeed, Ms. Ruocco's invited guest. Her betrothed, in fact."