Powdered Murder

"Nice to meet you, Mayor."

"And I'm Martha," Martha Millbreck chimed in.

"Come on," Patrick pulled me with him towards the table. He took his seat next to Lila.

"Oh, Essie," Lila said. "I think you're down at the other end of the table."

How convenient.

"Actually, you're right over there, hun," Dad retorted. "On the other side of Patrick." He said it snidely, watching as Lila's genuine grin turned into a forced fake smile. My parents and Patrick's parents had moved around the seating chart and it appeared that they had more than one reason for it. They were sitting together, and so were Patrick and I.

"How did that happen?" Lila asked.

"That's not important," Dad responded bluntly.

I gulped and took my spot next to Patrick, praying Dad wasn't in an arguing mood. If he was, he would argue with anybody who was willing. Lila would be his greatest contender yet, but it wouldn’t end well. And I was pretty sure that if it came to it the Millbreck's would side with her.

"Thank you all for coming," Patrick said. "Tomorrow is a very important day for us, and we're glad you could all be here to share it." He raised his glass, briefly glaring at the mayor and his wife. The room toasted to the soon-to-be newlyweds, and Patrick gulped down everything in his glass rather than take a small sip. I raised my cup of water and placed the gold cloth napkin in my lap. As Eli and the other servers brought out the first course, Mr. Kentworth poked his head in the room. His cheeks were red and he grimaced when he spotted everyone except the one person he was looking for.

Lila and the mayor began chatting about L.A. and the latest Hollywood gossip while Bebe continued to rave about Mrs. Jaye's cooking. Patrick stared out the window at the lights winding around the chair lift. The first course was a sampling of a tuna tartar with a sweet Vidalia onion, tomato, and blue cheese salad. Mrs. Jaye made a sour face when she bit into her tartar. She was a very home cookin' sort of woman. Her given name was actually A

The second course was brought out right after the first. I had hardly touched my food, but when I checked the time I noticed that the minutes were soaring by. Eli placed a plate of pasta in front of me. I took one bite and savored the creamy cheese sauce poured on top of it. Right after the second course the main dish was brought out – Colorado lamb with sautéed vegetables.

I took a few bites of my lamb and hardly even noticed when Eli took away my plate and replaced it with a small cup of coffee before dessert. The entire evening I'd been keeping my eye on the doors hoping that Joy would walk through them and take credit for her superb pla

I took a deep breath and walked towards the door. No one would notice if I left. I needed to find Joy and make sure nothing bad had happened to her. Before I could escape, a hand snatched my wrist. I took a step backwards and almost stumbled. I wasn't use to moving so quickly in these heels.

"Essie, dear." Martha was looking me straight in the eyes.

"Not now, Martha," I replied. "I have something I need to do."

"I understand," she whispered. "But before you go I just wanted to say to you…" She glanced over her shoulder at her husband who was completely engrossed in Lila's story about how she once attended three different after parties simultaneously. "Stay out of my business."

"What business?" I asked.

"A little squirrel told me that you've been nosing around, and asking questions about how I spend my free time." Her polite smile turned to a mischievous glare. "I'm warning you now. Leave it alone or I will make sure you never book a client in this town ever, ever again. Got it?"

Her threat was accompanied by a proper one-armed hug. I stood there speechless as Martha waltzed back to her seat like she was on cloud nine. In a moment of desperation, Martha Millbreck had revealed her true colors. Not only was she an avid gossiper. She was also a plotter. I was certain that she'd already put a great amount of thought into how she would ruin my career if I told anyone about her and the black BMW. But would she have gone as far as killing me to keep me silent, perhaps with my own gym equipment?

That little squirrel needed to be shot.

Mr. Kentworth bumped my elbow as I slipped into the hallway. He studied my expression and looked at his watch.

"This is just appalling," he commented. He was a tall, thin man with a dark brown suit and black-framed glasses. He reminded me of a vanilla bean. "Your sister is on thin ice."

"Please, Mr. Kentworth," I begged him. "If my sister is late it's because something is wrong. Maybe she got into a car accident on the way here?"

"You better hope so," he said under his breath. "Because nothing short of a trip to the hospital will be enough to save her now. This wedding was her big chance and she blew it."

"Look around you," I blurted out, against my better judgment. "Those people in there had an amazing di

Mr. Kentworth looked at me in awe. He took a minute to examine each guest's expression while pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He used it to clean the lenses of his glasses though they were already spotless. He held the glasses up to the light and inspected his handiwork before putting them back on.

"Find your sister, Miss Stratter, and bring her here. I will accept her apology, but just this once."

"Thank you," I gleefully responded. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Kentworth."

"Your sister, Miss Stratter," he reminded me, pointing to his watch. "The evening is almost over."

"I'll find her," I agreed. Mr. Kentworth rubbed the bridge of his nose as he walked away.

"Find who?" A light breeze blew through the hallway and filled my nose with the familiar scent of ci

"Joy." I turned around. Patrick anxiously looked at me.

"She still hasn't turned up?"

"I'm worried, Patrick."

"Let me help," he replied. "Where's the last place you saw her?"

"My apartment." I glanced behind him where Bebe was sampling a selection of gourmet truffles with A

"And leave you to search for her by yourself?" He shook his head. "After what happened this morning? No, I'm coming with you."

"You can't leave Lila," I protested.

"She said she was going to turn in early and have her dessert sent up to her suite anyway," he informed me. "She won't mind."

"She probably only said that to test you," I teased him.

"Test me how?"

"To see if you would try and convince her to stay." I watched Lila and Franco move towards the windows to chat some more with Patrick's parents.