Read Online Dior or Die (Joanna Hayworth Vintage Clothing Mysteries Book 2) by Angela M. Sanders - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angela M. Sanders
Tags: Mystery
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and even worked a few years in one of the big downtown firms. Finally couldn't take it anymore. Only it wasn't old movies that lured me to antique books, it was history. Even as I kid I used to chart the royal families of Europe. I could tell you every Hapsburg back to when their first castle was built in one-thousand-twenty." He laughed. "I’m embarrassed to say I even bought a Baronet title on the internet." He raised his eyes. "Maybe you heard? I get teased about it sometimes."
"No, never," Joanna lied. Clary was a lot more likable than she'd anticipated. Charming, even. A quick vision of being with someone like Clary—he in his place across town and she in her house here, of course—flew across her brain. No sawdust, no stubbornness, no over-protectiveness. Maybe even the occasional nightcap.
The bell at the door rang as Paul strode in. His tool box clattered to the counter beside Clary's books. "Hi Jo. Here and ready for duty. Where's that loose clothing rod?"
She couldn’t help smiling at the sight of him. Maybe being with a man like Clary would cut down on the sawdust, but she’d rather sweep up pounds of it a day than lose out on Paul.
Clary nodded at Paul and picked up his books. "I'll see you at the NAP auction," he said to Joanna.
When the door shut, Paul turned to Joanna. "Who's the Poindexter?"
"No one you need to worry about." She pulled his palm to her lips.
***
Later that afternoon, Joanna was arranging a pair of sage green suede pumps next to their matching purse when the phone rang.
"Poppy's been arrested." Apple's voice over the phone was agitated.
Joanna set down the pump and focused on the phone in her hand. "What? Poppy?"
"Gavin saw it on TV at work and called me."
Joanna's thoughts whirled. Poppy couldn't be in jail. She's not a criminal. "Why did they arrest her? Not Vivienne's death?"
"They said she was selling stolen jewels. I don't know if it's connected to the murder or not."
Jewel theft? Absolutely not. "No. Poppy wouldn't do that. There's no way." She paced to the front of the store as far as the phone's cord would let her, then back to the counter.
"That's what the police say. You know all those diamond thefts this past year?"
Helena's diamonds had been stolen, and she'd seen news reports of other break-ins. But still, it couldn't be Poppy. Impossible. "Did they say anything else?"
"That's all I know. I wanted to tell you right away."
Joanna hung up and hurried outside to drag in the sandwich board. Poppy was no diamond smuggler. This was all a big mistake. There had to be some other explanation.
Joanna flipped off the store's lights and reached for her keys.
CHAPTER TEN
The Justice Center's visiting room was small and gray. Gray linoleum floor, dull gray walls, and a gray, formica-topped table. A slab of smudged glass separated rows of visitors and inmates, and emotional chatter filled the air. Poppy was already seated when a guard chaperoned Joanna to her seat.
"You’ve got thirty minutes," he said.
"Oh Joanna, it's all a mistake." Poppy's skin was almost translucent with dark circles under her eyes. Mug shots were always hideous, and now she knew why. Nobody looked good in this place. If only Joanna could stretch a hand through the glass to comfort her.
"Are you okay? Do you have a good lawyer?"
Poppy nodded, her eyes tearing.
A baby cried and was shushed somewhere down the long table. Nearer, a young woman said urgently, "I told you, Goldie don't want no dog." The stuffiness was almost unbearable.
Joanna focused on Poppy. "What happened?"
Her right hand trembled. "They say when they were checking Vivienne's things they found stolen diamonds hidden in a lamp. They say I was getting them from somewhere and reselling them. It's not true!" A guard raised her eyes from examining her fingernails. "It's not true," Poppy repeated more quietly.
"I can't believe it."
"I was at the warehouse when they came. I figured—" She closed her eyes a
"No, never," Joanna lied. Clary was a lot more likable than she'd anticipated. Charming, even. A quick vision of being with someone like Clary—he in his place across town and she in her house here, of course—flew across her brain. No sawdust, no stubbornness, no over-protectiveness. Maybe even the occasional nightcap.
The bell at the door rang as Paul strode in. His tool box clattered to the counter beside Clary's books. "Hi Jo. Here and ready for duty. Where's that loose clothing rod?"
She couldn’t help smiling at the sight of him. Maybe being with a man like Clary would cut down on the sawdust, but she’d rather sweep up pounds of it a day than lose out on Paul.
Clary nodded at Paul and picked up his books. "I'll see you at the NAP auction," he said to Joanna.
When the door shut, Paul turned to Joanna. "Who's the Poindexter?"
"No one you need to worry about." She pulled his palm to her lips.
***
Later that afternoon, Joanna was arranging a pair of sage green suede pumps next to their matching purse when the phone rang.
"Poppy's been arrested." Apple's voice over the phone was agitated.
Joanna set down the pump and focused on the phone in her hand. "What? Poppy?"
"Gavin saw it on TV at work and called me."
Joanna's thoughts whirled. Poppy couldn't be in jail. She's not a criminal. "Why did they arrest her? Not Vivienne's death?"
"They said she was selling stolen jewels. I don't know if it's connected to the murder or not."
Jewel theft? Absolutely not. "No. Poppy wouldn't do that. There's no way." She paced to the front of the store as far as the phone's cord would let her, then back to the counter.
"That's what the police say. You know all those diamond thefts this past year?"
Helena's diamonds had been stolen, and she'd seen news reports of other break-ins. But still, it couldn't be Poppy. Impossible. "Did they say anything else?"
"That's all I know. I wanted to tell you right away."
Joanna hung up and hurried outside to drag in the sandwich board. Poppy was no diamond smuggler. This was all a big mistake. There had to be some other explanation.
Joanna flipped off the store's lights and reached for her keys.
CHAPTER TEN
The Justice Center's visiting room was small and gray. Gray linoleum floor, dull gray walls, and a gray, formica-topped table. A slab of smudged glass separated rows of visitors and inmates, and emotional chatter filled the air. Poppy was already seated when a guard chaperoned Joanna to her seat.
"You’ve got thirty minutes," he said.
"Oh Joanna, it's all a mistake." Poppy's skin was almost translucent with dark circles under her eyes. Mug shots were always hideous, and now she knew why. Nobody looked good in this place. If only Joanna could stretch a hand through the glass to comfort her.
"Are you okay? Do you have a good lawyer?"
Poppy nodded, her eyes tearing.
A baby cried and was shushed somewhere down the long table. Nearer, a young woman said urgently, "I told you, Goldie don't want no dog." The stuffiness was almost unbearable.
Joanna focused on Poppy. "What happened?"
Her right hand trembled. "They say when they were checking Vivienne's things they found stolen diamonds hidden in a lamp. They say I was getting them from somewhere and reselling them. It's not true!" A guard raised her eyes from examining her fingernails. "It's not true," Poppy repeated more quietly.
"I can't believe it."
"I was at the warehouse when they came. I figured—" She closed her eyes a
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