Read Online Swag Bags and Swindlers by Dorothy Howell - Free Book Online

she got to do with the gala?”
    â€œShe’s the acting assistant director now that Derrick is . . . gone,” I said.
    â€œAnd good riddance,” Trudy declared.
    â€œAmen to that,” Shana agreed.
    Delores edged closer and glanced at the event portfolio I was clutching.
    â€œSo what is it, honey?” she asked. “You need something? You need help with the planning? We can help.”
    â€œWe’re good at this sort of thing,” Shana said. “We all worked production for years. All the major studios. You need help with a project? We’re your gals.”
    This was the most enthusiastic bunch I’d met here at Hollywood Haven since Derrick’s murder. The ladies seemed to be in pretty good physical shape and were thinking clearly. I didn’t want to turn something over to them, but I didn’t want to hurt their feelings either.
    â€œSwag bags,” I said, picking the easiest thing I could think of. “I need ideas for swag bags for the presenters at the gala.”
    Shana flung out both arms. “We got this,” she announced.
    The other two nodded in agreement.
    â€œDon’t give it another thought,” Trudy said. “We’ll put our heads together and come up with a great list.”
    I just hoped that list wouldn’t include Beta VCRs and Bartles & Jaymes Orange Sunset wine coolers.
    â€œLet’s go, girls. We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Delores said, and they hurried away.
    I got a weird feeling as I watched them disappear down the hallway that led to the residents’ living quarters. Sort of happy and sad at the same time.
    I crossed the dayroom and went outside onto the patio. Wrought iron and wicker tables and chairs were set up, surrounded by shrubs, potted palms, and planters of blooming flowers. Several of the residents sat enjoying the mild November sun, more made their way along the walking trails that spread across the grounds.
    I didn’t spot anyone who looked as if she might be Rosalind. I was debating whether to ask someone to point her out to me or to just leave—I mean, jeez, I’d already spent a huge chunk of my morning doing actual work—when an elderly man ambled over.
    â€œGreetings,” he said, with a wide, easy smile.
    â€œHello,” I said, and couldn’t help smiling back.
    He’d probably been a little taller than me decades ago, but now he was shrunken, a little stoop shouldered. He was thin, frail, with what was left of his dark hair combed over his shiny bald spot. He had on a slightly rumpled shirt and a sport coat.
    â€œIt’s a beautiful day, and your presence has made it more beautiful,” he announced. “A beautiful girl should have beautiful things.”
    With a flourish, he presented me with a small arrangement of artificial flowers that seemed to magically appear—except that I’d seen him pull it from the sleeve of his jacket.
    â€œThank you,” I said, taking the flowers. “They’re lovely.”
    â€œAs are you, my dear,” he said, and bowed slightly. “A gift for you from Alden the Great.”
    A woman joined us. She was fortyish, tall and thin with dark hair, and dressed in casual pants and a sweater.
    â€œHe’s a magician,” she said.
    â€œShe knows, sweetie,” he said. “Everybody knows who I am. I’m opening tonight at the Stardust. It’s all over town.”
    â€œYes, Dad, it is,” she said, and patted his arm. She turned to me. “I’m Emily Kerwin.”
    I introduced myself.
    â€œYou’ve seen me on the billboards, haven’t you?” Alden asked.
    Emily forced a brave smile. My heart broke a little.
    â€œYes,” I said. “And on the big sign out front.”
    Alden beamed. “It’s going to be a hell of a show.”
    â€œI’m sure it is,” I said.
    â€œYou bet. Oh, hey, is that Dean and Sammy over there? Excuse me, girls.”