signal.
‘Anyway, I’m calling because I’m having a little get-together on Thursday,’ Alana continued. ‘It’s just been such a horrible, horrible week, and Stacia and I thought it would do everyone good.’
Dulcie couldn’t tell which thought was making her speechless: that Alana would have a party a week after her boyfriend’s murder, or that she’d think to invite Dulcie. ‘A party?’ She managed not to stutter.
‘Just drinks. Just to cheer everyone up.’
Dulcie found herself staring at a T map like a lost tourist, noticing for the first time how the lines of color spread out like trickles of blood and bile against the white. What was Alana thinking of? She closed her eyes and once again saw the hand, the puddle. Alana was still talking, and Dulcie made herself focus. Alana hadn’t seen Tim the way she had – so bloody, so still. Nobody had, except for the police. To Alana and her friends, Tim was just gone – his absence rather like an inconvenient holiday, as if he’d gone off-trail skiing in Aspen. She swallowed hard and felt her stomach begin to settle.
Alana hadn’t missed a beat. ‘I mean, Tim would be the first one to tell us that life goes on. Especially in summer! My folks have a shade up over most of the roof deck, and they’re going away for the weekend.’
Aha, thought Dulcie, the truth was out.
‘So, would you care to drop by?’
Would I care to swim with sharks? Even well-dressed sharks? Dulcie paused before answering. It couldn’t be simple kindness that had prompted Alana to invite her. Stupid as she seemed, the willowy blonde had to have an ulterior motive. And, Dulcie had to admit to herself, she was a bit curious. Curious enough to give up a night of reading?
‘Um, well, thank you, Alana. I’ll have to check my calendar.’ Dulcie was rather proud of her stalling technique. ‘But why don’t I take down your info?’
Alana didn’t seem to notice her bluff and gave her the address of a Beacon Hill town house. The invitation was for cocktails at seven. ‘We really would love for you to come.’
Dulcie was touched, despite her misgivings. ‘Thanks, Alana. And, hey—’ She could throw the girl a bone. ‘Thought I’d let you know. I talked to the cops about what Luke said and they didn’t buy it.’ She heard a puzzled noise. ‘They don’t think that Tim was a dealer.’
‘Well, of course not!’ Dulcie could hear the refined sniff of disapproval, as if Alana had smelled something distasteful. Maybe this party wouldn’t be such a good idea after all.
‘Well, uh, thought you should know. See you.’ That didn’t commit her, did it?
‘You’re going to that party!’ Suze had perked right up when Dulcie had told her about it later that night. ‘One of us should have a social life!’
Suze wasn’t exactly in a bad patch, just a slow one. Dulcie had been hearing about it for weeks. Suze loved research, and had finished a master’s in philosophy before turning toward the law. But being someone else’s researcher was strenuous, the Washington summer stifling, and the long hours were getting to her. Plus, as she’d just told Dulcie, Tom – the really cute guy from Justice – had turned out to be gay.
‘Suze, don’t you think it’s ghoulish, though? I mean, really?’ No matter how Dulcie tried to see Alana’s planned party as a wake, as a commemoration, the image just wouldn’t come. Even Hermetria wouldn’t have jumped right into party mode, would she?
‘Yeah, that Alana is a piece of work all right.’ She heard Suze grunt as she slipped off her running shoes. She’d needed the exercise, she told Dulcie, after the stresses of work, coupled with the romantic disappointment. ‘But that’s not your problem. There will be other people there.’
‘Well, with that hostess, they aren’t likely to be my kind of people.’ Dulcie kicked back on the sofa.
‘They don’t have fur, you mean?’ Suze had grown fond of Mr Grey. How could she not?
‘Anyway, I’m calling because I’m having a little get-together on Thursday,’ Alana continued. ‘It’s just been such a horrible, horrible week, and Stacia and I thought it would do everyone good.’
Dulcie couldn’t tell which thought was making her speechless: that Alana would have a party a week after her boyfriend’s murder, or that she’d think to invite Dulcie. ‘A party?’ She managed not to stutter.
‘Just drinks. Just to cheer everyone up.’
Dulcie found herself staring at a T map like a lost tourist, noticing for the first time how the lines of color spread out like trickles of blood and bile against the white. What was Alana thinking of? She closed her eyes and once again saw the hand, the puddle. Alana was still talking, and Dulcie made herself focus. Alana hadn’t seen Tim the way she had – so bloody, so still. Nobody had, except for the police. To Alana and her friends, Tim was just gone – his absence rather like an inconvenient holiday, as if he’d gone off-trail skiing in Aspen. She swallowed hard and felt her stomach begin to settle.
Alana hadn’t missed a beat. ‘I mean, Tim would be the first one to tell us that life goes on. Especially in summer! My folks have a shade up over most of the roof deck, and they’re going away for the weekend.’
Aha, thought Dulcie, the truth was out.
‘So, would you care to drop by?’
Would I care to swim with sharks? Even well-dressed sharks? Dulcie paused before answering. It couldn’t be simple kindness that had prompted Alana to invite her. Stupid as she seemed, the willowy blonde had to have an ulterior motive. And, Dulcie had to admit to herself, she was a bit curious. Curious enough to give up a night of reading?
‘Um, well, thank you, Alana. I’ll have to check my calendar.’ Dulcie was rather proud of her stalling technique. ‘But why don’t I take down your info?’
Alana didn’t seem to notice her bluff and gave her the address of a Beacon Hill town house. The invitation was for cocktails at seven. ‘We really would love for you to come.’
Dulcie was touched, despite her misgivings. ‘Thanks, Alana. And, hey—’ She could throw the girl a bone. ‘Thought I’d let you know. I talked to the cops about what Luke said and they didn’t buy it.’ She heard a puzzled noise. ‘They don’t think that Tim was a dealer.’
‘Well, of course not!’ Dulcie could hear the refined sniff of disapproval, as if Alana had smelled something distasteful. Maybe this party wouldn’t be such a good idea after all.
‘Well, uh, thought you should know. See you.’ That didn’t commit her, did it?
‘You’re going to that party!’ Suze had perked right up when Dulcie had told her about it later that night. ‘One of us should have a social life!’
Suze wasn’t exactly in a bad patch, just a slow one. Dulcie had been hearing about it for weeks. Suze loved research, and had finished a master’s in philosophy before turning toward the law. But being someone else’s researcher was strenuous, the Washington summer stifling, and the long hours were getting to her. Plus, as she’d just told Dulcie, Tom – the really cute guy from Justice – had turned out to be gay.
‘Suze, don’t you think it’s ghoulish, though? I mean, really?’ No matter how Dulcie tried to see Alana’s planned party as a wake, as a commemoration, the image just wouldn’t come. Even Hermetria wouldn’t have jumped right into party mode, would she?
‘Yeah, that Alana is a piece of work all right.’ She heard Suze grunt as she slipped off her running shoes. She’d needed the exercise, she told Dulcie, after the stresses of work, coupled with the romantic disappointment. ‘But that’s not your problem. There will be other people there.’
‘Well, with that hostess, they aren’t likely to be my kind of people.’ Dulcie kicked back on the sofa.
‘They don’t have fur, you mean?’ Suze had grown fond of Mr Grey. How could she not?
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