Page 43 of The Other Lady Vanishes

“I agree,” Adelaide said. “But he needs a job, Flo.”

Florence got a speculative expression. “Heard he used to be in the import-export business. That covers a lot of territory, if you take my meaning.”

Adelaide remembered Raina’s comments on the subject of Jake’s former line of business.

“Are you implying that Mr. Truett is a shady character?” she asked.

“Well, I’m told that he and Luther Pell are friends of long standing.”

Startled, Adelaide set the kettle down on the stove with more force than she had intended. She spun around to look at Florence.

“Who told you that?” she demanded.

“A friend of mine whose son works as a valet at the Paradise Clubsaid that Pell has invited Truett for drinks in Pell’s private quarters above the club a few times since Truett arrived in town,” Florence said. “Heard they’ve played a couple of rounds of golf together, too.”

Adelaide wasn’t sure why she was taken aback by that information, but for some reason it left her strangely disconcerted.

“I had no idea,” she said. “Jake... Mr. Truett... never mentioned that he knew Luther Pell.”

“Nothing to worry about, I’m sure,” Florence said quickly. “It’s just that everyone says Pell has connections in the gambling world, and that world is one hundred percent in the shade. And then there’s the fact that Pell owns a nightclub here in town. A lot of folks would say that is another shady line of work.”

“Yes, I know.”

Adelaide told herself she had no right to be blindsided. Jake had a right to his secrets. Nevertheless, a long-standing friendship with Luther Pell probably ought to be cause for concern. Florence was right. Gambling and nightclubs were shady businesses.

Not necessarily illegal, she reminded herself, just... shady.

The bell chimed over the front door of the tearoom, distracting her. She glanced through the kitchen doorway in time to see Vera Westlake make an entrance.

An expectant hush fell over the tearoom. Unlike most celebrities who showed up at Refresh, Vera Westlake always arrived unaccompanied and she always sat alone at her favorite table. There was no assistant, no publicist, no gossip columnist, no male companion with her. Adelaide smiled to herself. Evidently, Westlake did not need an entourage to remind those in the vicinity that she was a star. She had the power to command every eye in the room. But, then, she had it all—elegance, glamour, talent, beauty, and that magical quality called presence. When she was in the room, it was hard to look away from her.

She had a few trademarks. One was her maroon lipstick. She also had a habit of appearing in public dressed in a single color from headto toe. Today was no exception. Every item of clothing that she wore—the flowing, high-waisted silk trousers, the silk blouse with its billowing sleeves, the chunky-heeled sandals, and the little confection of a felt hat—was in a rich shade of cream. Her dark hair was parted on the side and fell in waves to her shoulders. Her eyes were enhanced with mascara and eyeliner. Her brows were thin and gracefully arched.

She seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that everyone in the tearoom was staring at her.

“Movie stars,” Adelaide whispered. “Not a subtle bunch, are they?”

“No, but they can sure sell tea,” Florence said.

“True. There’s an additional benefit to having Miss Westlake drop in for tea this morning. Her presence will change the topic of conversation out there.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Florence wiped her hands on a towel. “I’ll get her seated while you fix her tea. Expect she’ll be wanting her usual.”

Florence bustled out of the kitchen. Adelaide got busy preparing a fresh pot of Tranquility tea.

Florence hurried back into the kitchen. “She wants to talk to you.”

Adelaide groaned. “You mean she wants to interrogate me about what happened yesterday morning?”

“Probably. Apparently everyone, including some movie stars, is interested in the psychic who predicted her own death.”`

“I’m going to stick with my story. As long as the cops are investigating, I can’t say much.”

“Good luck.”

Adelaide set the teapot and a dainty cup and saucer on a tray. “I’ll be polite. I just won’t give her any information.”

“You could try changing the subject by asking her about the wonders of that diet drink she’s always so eager to talk about.”