Cat In A Sapphire Slipper

One good thing: given the amount of champagne being consumed by the bridesmaids, I am guessing that the festivities will end in a snoozer long before daylight blinks its eyes open over the desert and shows us all where the heck we are.

I follow the giggling bridesmaids down the stairs for another round of boyfriend teasing before they herd them upstairs for more serious business.

Humans! Cannot live with them, cannot live without them.

Unfortunately.

Dead Spot

Matt heard the commotion in the hall and had hardly dared breathe since, despite being in the place’s best-kept secret room.

The unmistakable sounds of girly celebration were confusing. Apparently the . . . er, pros workforce wasn’t at all threatened by the amateur takeover. Maybe they were all in on it.

His immediate problem was worse than whatever fix the Fontana brothers were in downstairs. God! To be caught lurking in a peephole in a brothel like a perv or a juvenile delinquent.

It was beyond contemplating. He’d have to risk being spotted to find a literal closet to hide out in until he figured out what was going on. He set the spy window to see-through mode. The room looked unoccupied and the last high heels were clattering down the staircase.

It was now or never.

Matt edged through the concealed door, remembering to shut it quietly.

There must be a regular closet somewhere in this place. Certainly a linen closet, he thought with a wince. That would be the safest place until he figured out what was happening.

He moved as stealthily as possible over the bedroom floor, glancing back at the door to make sure no traces of his stay remained.

Then he forgot everything. Safety. Secrecy.

A woman lay on the bed that had been vacant. A half-clothed young, beautiful woman.

He couldn’t think. Maybe she was . . . only a prop. One of those blow-up dolls he’d first learned about only a month ago. This place was a fantasyland of forbidden sex.

He couldn’t just leave her without making sure.

Retracing his steps, he saw with every one that she was real; a young, beautiful, dead woman. She wore a corset missing the cups for her breasts and a garter belt with the silver garters loose and glittering. She was naked enough that he’d hesitate to approach her, but the black stocking wrapped tight around her neck assured the dead part. Or near dead.

There was spittle on those ripe red lips, and her staring eyes were bloodshot.

He put his fingertips to her neck, searching for any spasm in her carotid artery.

Her skin was soft and . . . warm. Like living flesh.

CPR was worth a try. He depressed her breastbone in rhythm until the bed bounded obscenely under her. Then he pinched her nostrils shut and blew into those parted lips, hard. Again and again. The Kiss of Life was not gentle.

“Jesus Christ, Matt! What are you doing with that woman?”

He turned to find Nicky Fontana in the doorway. “You got free? Help me! She’s still warm. She could be revived.”

“Yeah. But—” Nicky came over, swift but quiet, taking in the scene. “Good God, what happened here?”

He pressed the side of her neck, frowning.

Matt took another breather. “I don’t know.”

“Give it up. No pulse. You don’t know?”

Matt was breathless, and now Nicky’s diagnosis had taken his breath away again. It took a few moments for him to straighten up, to look dispassionately down on her as unrevivable, to give up the ghost.

He finally said, “There’s a secret room behind the mirrored wall. A peephole room. I ducked in there to hide, and when the hubbub outside died down, thought I needed a better hiding place. I only saw her when I turned to give the room a onceover before I left.”

Nicky glanced at the mirrored wall, then nodded. “You were in there, and saw nothing?”

“There’s a switch that closes the view window, like some kind of internal blind. I shut it. I didn’t know if anyone could see me with the window operational.”

“Probably not. The whole kick is not being seen.”

“It seemed like the perfect hiding place.”

“It was. Someone felt free to commit murder, never suspecting there was a witness.”

“A possible witness. I was totally in the dark. What are we going to do?”

Nicky washed his face with his dry hands, thinking. “You figure out what’s going on here?”

“The abduction, the laughing women, this? No.”

“I was in the linen closet, under a hell of a lot of scented sheets. I was also a lot closer to the hallway action. I’m getting that this whole thing is a prank. My brothers’ girlfriends decided to crash the bachelor party and railroad them here for some semi-serious ribbing about them not following Aldo into the bonds of holy matrimony. Instead we get unholy murder. Damn! It’s a bitch that you didn’t have some normal curiosity or self-preservation and keep the viewing window open.”

“I don’t know how these things work. I figure if I can see, someone can see me. Maybe it’s magical thinking, but I’m not used to places like this and figure the less I know about them, the better.”

“Not in this case.”