if she sells dresses at Wal-Mart when he finishes with her.”
Desiree hung up the phone so hard, Helen’s ears rang. She needed coffee before she could confront this. The phone jangled again.
“I’ll get that,” Millicent called from the front room. “Maybe I should tell the reporters yes. Photographing the death dress could be good advertising.”
“Millicent, don’t! Wait! There’s some sort of problem—” Helen ran out to stop her. The pain in her head went all the way down to her feet.
She was too late. Millicent picked up the phone. Helen could hear her saying, “Cancel? Ellen, why would you want to cancel?”
Helen pulled the popular free tabloid from the cardboard box. She found the ONE DEAD MOTHER murder story. Right next to it was a full-page ad framed with ribbons and bridal bells.
MILLICENT’S—WEDDINGS TO DIE FOR! the headline said. Helen felt sick. No wonder Desiree was angry. This was utterly tasteless.
The copy was worse: “Want a beautiful wedding? Tired of ugly relatives? You need Millicent’s, Fort Lauderdale’s most fashionable bridal salon. See us for all—and we do mean all—your wedding needs.”
“Oh, my God.” Helen sprinted back inside the store calling, “Millicent!”
But Millicent was on the phone, sounding desperate. “Rebecca, sweetie, you can’t cancel. You’ll lose your deposit. Of course you care. Three thousand dollars is a lot of money. Rebecca, please listen—Rebecca?”
Millicent stared at the dead phone. “That’s the third cancellation this morning.”
The phone rang again, shrill and angry.
“Don’t answer that,” Helen said. “Read this first.”
Millicent gave a little shriek when she saw the headline. She was spitting fury by the time she finished. “That bitch at Haute Bridal did this. She’s trying to ruin me. I’ll sue her. I’ll get her if it’s the last thing I do.”
“We have to find out for sure who placed the ad,” Helen said. “I’ll call the paper.”
“They won’t know anything,” Millicent said.
“They might,” Helen said. “You listen on the extension.”
Helen told Eric in the advertising department about the ad.
“Weird. Why would some stranger buy an ad for your store?” Eric said.
“To destroy our business,” Helen said. “Do you know who did this?”
“I took the ad myself.” Eric sounded nervous now. “Saturday afternoon about three. It was a rush job for Monday. A walk-in at our office. The buyer paid cash.”
“Who was the buyer?”
“A woman. She wore a red jacket and black pants. I couldn’t see her face real good because she had on these big dark sunglasses. But she had long white hair and really red nail polish, like blood or something.”
“Millicent, that sounds like you,” Helen said. “How old was she?”
“Old. Older than my mom,” Eric said. “I’d say she was about fifty-five.”
“I am not.” Millicent was outraged. She hung up on Eric.
Helen’s head hurt from all the slamming phones.
Millicent paced the pink salon in a red rage. “What did I tell you? It’s Haute Bridal. The woman will stoop to anything. And she’s older than me. She put on a white wig and placed that ad. She was furious when Kiki came here and canceled the order with her shop.”
“How did she find out Kiki was dead? I didn’t call you until five.”
“It was on the news from about two o’clock on,” Millicent said.
Of course. Helen had been holed up at the church all afternoon, but that didn’t mean the rest of the world was locked away. She’d seen the TV vans outside the cathedral.
“This is a public relations disaster,” Millicent said.
For the first time, she looked old and desperate. “Helen, what am I going to do? I’ve had three cancellations already. Desiree has refused to pay the balance of Kiki’s order. I’ll lose my business. I’m too old to start over again. I’ve worked so hard for everything and now it’s gone horribly wrong.”
Millicent put her
Desiree hung up the phone so hard, Helen’s ears rang. She needed coffee before she could confront this. The phone jangled again.
“I’ll get that,” Millicent called from the front room. “Maybe I should tell the reporters yes. Photographing the death dress could be good advertising.”
“Millicent, don’t! Wait! There’s some sort of problem—” Helen ran out to stop her. The pain in her head went all the way down to her feet.
She was too late. Millicent picked up the phone. Helen could hear her saying, “Cancel? Ellen, why would you want to cancel?”
Helen pulled the popular free tabloid from the cardboard box. She found the ONE DEAD MOTHER murder story. Right next to it was a full-page ad framed with ribbons and bridal bells.
MILLICENT’S—WEDDINGS TO DIE FOR! the headline said. Helen felt sick. No wonder Desiree was angry. This was utterly tasteless.
The copy was worse: “Want a beautiful wedding? Tired of ugly relatives? You need Millicent’s, Fort Lauderdale’s most fashionable bridal salon. See us for all—and we do mean all—your wedding needs.”
“Oh, my God.” Helen sprinted back inside the store calling, “Millicent!”
But Millicent was on the phone, sounding desperate. “Rebecca, sweetie, you can’t cancel. You’ll lose your deposit. Of course you care. Three thousand dollars is a lot of money. Rebecca, please listen—Rebecca?”
Millicent stared at the dead phone. “That’s the third cancellation this morning.”
The phone rang again, shrill and angry.
“Don’t answer that,” Helen said. “Read this first.”
Millicent gave a little shriek when she saw the headline. She was spitting fury by the time she finished. “That bitch at Haute Bridal did this. She’s trying to ruin me. I’ll sue her. I’ll get her if it’s the last thing I do.”
“We have to find out for sure who placed the ad,” Helen said. “I’ll call the paper.”
“They won’t know anything,” Millicent said.
“They might,” Helen said. “You listen on the extension.”
Helen told Eric in the advertising department about the ad.
“Weird. Why would some stranger buy an ad for your store?” Eric said.
“To destroy our business,” Helen said. “Do you know who did this?”
“I took the ad myself.” Eric sounded nervous now. “Saturday afternoon about three. It was a rush job for Monday. A walk-in at our office. The buyer paid cash.”
“Who was the buyer?”
“A woman. She wore a red jacket and black pants. I couldn’t see her face real good because she had on these big dark sunglasses. But she had long white hair and really red nail polish, like blood or something.”
“Millicent, that sounds like you,” Helen said. “How old was she?”
“Old. Older than my mom,” Eric said. “I’d say she was about fifty-five.”
“I am not.” Millicent was outraged. She hung up on Eric.
Helen’s head hurt from all the slamming phones.
Millicent paced the pink salon in a red rage. “What did I tell you? It’s Haute Bridal. The woman will stoop to anything. And she’s older than me. She put on a white wig and placed that ad. She was furious when Kiki came here and canceled the order with her shop.”
“How did she find out Kiki was dead? I didn’t call you until five.”
“It was on the news from about two o’clock on,” Millicent said.
Of course. Helen had been holed up at the church all afternoon, but that didn’t mean the rest of the world was locked away. She’d seen the TV vans outside the cathedral.
“This is a public relations disaster,” Millicent said.
For the first time, she looked old and desperate. “Helen, what am I going to do? I’ve had three cancellations already. Desiree has refused to pay the balance of Kiki’s order. I’ll lose my business. I’m too old to start over again. I’ve worked so hard for everything and now it’s gone horribly wrong.”
Millicent put her
Similar Books
