said.
An hour later, it was clear that Holly Adams had other ideas.
“You just can’t know how lonely it gets around here,” she said with a bright smile. “I love to entertain, so you can imagine how excited I was to hear I was having guests!”
Jill hid a smile.
She was pretty sure that this was the first time that homicide detectives at the NYPD had been described as guests.
And Jill was definitely certain that it was the first time they’d been treated to a three-course meal.
The food had been amazing, although not quite as amazing as watching Vincent carefully eat butternut squash bisque with an itty-bitty spoon.
“So, Ms. Adams,” he said as the housekeeper set chocolate mousse in front of them. “About Lenora Birch…”
Holly sighed from where she sat proudly at the head of the table. The woman had refused to discuss the death of a “dear friend” while eating, but Vincent was apparently out of patience. Jill was surprised he’d made it all the way to dessert.
“Ms. Adams, can you tell us about the last time you saw Lenora?” Jill asked, leaning forward.
“Please. Call me Holly.” She fiddled with her spoon.
Jill studied the older woman, trying to get a read on her and failing.
She was beautiful, even in her mid-seventies. She was short and curvy, and even with her advanced age, Jill could definitely see the outline of what must have been a rather phenomenal figure back in her day.
She and Lenora must have made quite a pair, one tall, thin, and regal, the other short, curvy, and coquettish.
“We used to be friends, you know,” Holly said on a sigh. “Best friends.”
Her voice was just slightly petulant, although Jill wasn’t sure if it was from old wounds or annoyance that she was being questioned in the death of a former friend.
But the former part was why they were here.
“What happened? To the friendship, I mean,” Jill asked.
Holly spooned up a tiny bit of chocolate mousse and slipped it between coral-colored lips. “Isn’t it obvious? She shoved me out of the way so that she’d be the only Hollywood darling. Took all the prime roles, stole all the men—”
“All the men?” Vincent asked.
Holly waved her hand. “You know what I mean, Detective. All the good ones.”
“You’ve been married three times,” Vincent said dryly. “Were they the good ones?”
Holly huffed and gazed at him with sharp eyes.
Then she shifted her attention to Jill. “Your partner’s a cynic.”
Jill smiled. “A bit, yes.”
Holly’s hand glanced to Jill’s left hand. “I see you’re not. Married?”
“Engaged,” Jill responded.
Holly’s face lit up. “Oh, I do love a good engagement! They’re so much fun. I miss them.”
“More fun than the marriages themselves?” Vincent cut in again.
Jill’s lips twitched, but Vin brought up a good point.All signs were definitely pointing to Holly Adams being spoiled and shallow.
But murderous? She just wasn’t sure. At all.
“So your and Lenora’s friendship ended. What caused the final break?” Jill asked, bringing their attention back to the case.
“Well.” Holly plucked at the skirt of her Chanel suit. “It was over a man.”
“Naturally,” Vincent muttered into his water glass.
Jill tried to kick him under the table, but the massive dining table was too large for her to reach.
“He was my beau first,” Holly said. “We met at Bemelman’s. You’ve been?”
Jill shook her head, and Holly clapped her hands together. “Oh, you simply must. It’s this lovely—”
“So how did Lenora steal him?” Vincent asked, his patience officially frayed.
Holly slumped again. “I invited her out to drinks with the two of us. I wanted her to meet him.”
Or wanted to show him off, Jill thought, taking a bite of rather excellent chocolate mousse.
“Anyway, the two of them fought like crazy,” Holly said. “I’d never seen anything like it. Hate at first sight. Or so I thought.”
Jill saw Vincent sit up
An hour later, it was clear that Holly Adams had other ideas.
“You just can’t know how lonely it gets around here,” she said with a bright smile. “I love to entertain, so you can imagine how excited I was to hear I was having guests!”
Jill hid a smile.
She was pretty sure that this was the first time that homicide detectives at the NYPD had been described as guests.
And Jill was definitely certain that it was the first time they’d been treated to a three-course meal.
The food had been amazing, although not quite as amazing as watching Vincent carefully eat butternut squash bisque with an itty-bitty spoon.
“So, Ms. Adams,” he said as the housekeeper set chocolate mousse in front of them. “About Lenora Birch…”
Holly sighed from where she sat proudly at the head of the table. The woman had refused to discuss the death of a “dear friend” while eating, but Vincent was apparently out of patience. Jill was surprised he’d made it all the way to dessert.
“Ms. Adams, can you tell us about the last time you saw Lenora?” Jill asked, leaning forward.
“Please. Call me Holly.” She fiddled with her spoon.
Jill studied the older woman, trying to get a read on her and failing.
She was beautiful, even in her mid-seventies. She was short and curvy, and even with her advanced age, Jill could definitely see the outline of what must have been a rather phenomenal figure back in her day.
She and Lenora must have made quite a pair, one tall, thin, and regal, the other short, curvy, and coquettish.
“We used to be friends, you know,” Holly said on a sigh. “Best friends.”
Her voice was just slightly petulant, although Jill wasn’t sure if it was from old wounds or annoyance that she was being questioned in the death of a former friend.
But the former part was why they were here.
“What happened? To the friendship, I mean,” Jill asked.
Holly spooned up a tiny bit of chocolate mousse and slipped it between coral-colored lips. “Isn’t it obvious? She shoved me out of the way so that she’d be the only Hollywood darling. Took all the prime roles, stole all the men—”
“All the men?” Vincent asked.
Holly waved her hand. “You know what I mean, Detective. All the good ones.”
“You’ve been married three times,” Vincent said dryly. “Were they the good ones?”
Holly huffed and gazed at him with sharp eyes.
Then she shifted her attention to Jill. “Your partner’s a cynic.”
Jill smiled. “A bit, yes.”
Holly’s hand glanced to Jill’s left hand. “I see you’re not. Married?”
“Engaged,” Jill responded.
Holly’s face lit up. “Oh, I do love a good engagement! They’re so much fun. I miss them.”
“More fun than the marriages themselves?” Vincent cut in again.
Jill’s lips twitched, but Vin brought up a good point.All signs were definitely pointing to Holly Adams being spoiled and shallow.
But murderous? She just wasn’t sure. At all.
“So your and Lenora’s friendship ended. What caused the final break?” Jill asked, bringing their attention back to the case.
“Well.” Holly plucked at the skirt of her Chanel suit. “It was over a man.”
“Naturally,” Vincent muttered into his water glass.
Jill tried to kick him under the table, but the massive dining table was too large for her to reach.
“He was my beau first,” Holly said. “We met at Bemelman’s. You’ve been?”
Jill shook her head, and Holly clapped her hands together. “Oh, you simply must. It’s this lovely—”
“So how did Lenora steal him?” Vincent asked, his patience officially frayed.
Holly slumped again. “I invited her out to drinks with the two of us. I wanted her to meet him.”
Or wanted to show him off, Jill thought, taking a bite of rather excellent chocolate mousse.
“Anyway, the two of them fought like crazy,” Holly said. “I’d never seen anything like it. Hate at first sight. Or so I thought.”
Jill saw Vincent sit up
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