Again, I felt bad for giving back Blitz’s money. Whatever point I’d tried to make had gone unnoticed, and Ebony was now on the hook for the entire expense of the party. Sure, Blitz had the money to pay her, but would he? Especially after his dig to Ebony’s past.
“What did Blitz mean when he mentioned you and his dad? Do you know his father?”
“Girl, don’t you start with that gossip too. Bad enough I had to take it from him. He was talking about his real dad, Brody Manners. Important lawyer. Now there was a man with character.”
“But why did Blitz say his father hired you?”
A cloud of darkness passed over Ebony’s features. “I better go check on the goose and the coffee.” She walked away.
I rested against the wall with my arm around my stuffed ocelot. I never liked the idea of working the room or approaching strangers to make conversation at a cocktail party, but the fact that everyone here was in costume took away that anxiety. Costumes gave people the confidence to be someone else and leave their insecurities behind—me included.
Columbo was talking to Veronica Mars by the side of the stage. A small group of men and women stood by the bar, wearing red windbreakers with B.W.G. embroidered on the back like the Bob-Whites of the Glen from Trixie Belden. Mr. Moto looked like he was trying to start something up with ’30s Nancy Drew, but she seemed more interested in Kojak, who stood a few feet away. Tom Swift stood off to the side, comparing notes with Miss Marple. The whole scene was fantastic!
Three women dressed like Charlie’s Angels were poised by the door. We hadn’t provided Charlie’s Angels costumes. I walked across the room to get a better look and recognized them as Candy Girls. Farrah Fawcett wore a bikini top and hip-huggers, Kate Jackson wore plaid pants and matching sweater vest over a snug polyester printed shirt, and Jaclyn Smith wore a white pantsuit and platform shoes. They each had identification tags clipped on that said TOWNSEND DETECTIVE AGENCY.
Charlie Chan stood behind them, in a black suit, white shirt, and narrow black necktie. I hadn’t made a Charlie Chan costume and wondered if he’d put it together himself. His hair was slicked back away from his face. His mustache was perfectly styled across his upper lip, turning down by each of the sides, with a small triangular patch under his bottom lip. You never knew what a person would bring to a costume, if they would research the proper hair and makeup to pull it off. This man had. Our eyes connected for a moment, and then he turned and walked away.
Ebony had decorated the fire hall with blown-up images of question marks, fingerprints, and oversized envelopes marked CLUE. Tom Swift had pulled himself away from Miss Marple and inspected a clue from the closest envelope.
My role at the party was as Ebony’s helper, but as long as she was in the kitchen, I felt like a wallflower. I wove through servers to see if she needed my assistance with the food. When I pushed through the doors, I saw her standing behind the kitchen island with a large knife in her hand. On the island was a black roasting pan that held a cooked goose. She looked terrified—Ebony, not the goose.
“Do you need help carving that?” I asked. I stepped around the side of the island and instantly understood that the cooked goose was not the reason for her terror.
No, her terror was due to the body of Blitz Manners, dressed in our classic Sherlock costume, that lay by her feet in a pool of blood.
Chapter 4
I DROPPED TO the floor and put my hands on the side of Blitz’s neck. There was no pulse. The puddle of blood seeped across the uneven floor, collecting on a series of tiles between us and the wall-mounted phone. I stood up and put my hands on Ebony’s arms.
“What happened here?” I asked. I shook her slightly to snap her out of her paralytic stance.
“Is he dead?” she asked. She stared at him, oblivious to my question.
The swinging doors to the kitchen opened up and one of the servers walked in. She took one look at the blood on the floor and raced back outside. “She killed Blitz!” she screamed. I moved my hands from Ebony’s upper arms down to her wrists. She dropped the knife and it landed on the floor next to his body.
“Ebony, we have to call the police.”
She tore her gaze from Blitz’s body to my face. “He’s dead,” she said. There was no emotion behind her voice. “What’s going to happen now?”
I heard the doors swing open a second time, this time drawing a crowd of partygoers. The first women in, two of Charlie’s Angels, Kojak, and ’30s Nancy Drew skidded to a halt when they saw the body. Nancy spun around and buried her head into Kojak’s lapel.
Charlie Chan pushed Charlie’s Angels aside and stepped farther into the room than anyone else had been so far. He looked at the body, then at me. “Did you touch him?” he asked.
“I felt his neck for a pulse. I couldn’t find one.”