Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,11
to Luke and gave him a gentle shove toward the children’s room. “Run along now, Luke, I’ll be outside helping Jackson’s mum if you need me.”
When the little boy was out of earshot, Tori tried again, the tension hovering around Beatrice’s body too hard to ignore. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Beatrice, you look like you’re on the verge of crying.”
“I really shouldn’t complain. It’s not like I was the only one.”
“The only one what?”
“To have a run-in with Penelope’s mum.”
“What are you talking about?”
Beatrice pointed through the window in the center of the door, her finger trained on two women and two little girls. The children were peering at the cake over Debbie’s shoulder while the women paced around the outdoor party table. “You know Caroline Rowen and Samantha Smith, right? The little redhead, Zoe, belongs to Caroline, and the brunette belongs to Samantha. We all arrived at virtually the same moment . . . just as Ashley Lawson was heading out to her car to fetch a few outfits.”
Tori stared out the window, her gaze seeking and finding Penelope’s mother, who was removing a large garment bag from her trunk. “Did something happen?”
“She commented on Zoe’s hair, said she could provide the name of a good hairstylist when Caroline finally decided to do something about that wretched color. That’s what she said . . . that wretched color.”
Without taking her eyes off Ashley, Tori posed the question that was begging to be asked in light of Beatrice’s shaky demeanor. “And what did she say to you?”
The nanny rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a tissue. Quickly she dabbed at each eye, her voice barely more than a trembling whisper as she leaned against the door. “I opted not to have Luke get dressed up since I figured he’d be wearing a costume for much of the party. I considered asking his mum what she thought but she left early this morning for a breakfast meeting.”
“Okay . . .” Tori turned and looked into the party room, locating Luke in quick fashion. “He looks fine, Beatrice.”
“I thought so, too. But Ashley doesn’t agree.”
She stared at the woman. “Ashley doesn’t agree?”
Beatrice shook her head, her mouth tugged downward with worry. “No. She said I should be ashamed dressing him like . . .” The nanny’s words trailed off as she shifted from foot to foot.
“Dressing him like what?” Tori prompted.
Looking slowly from side to side, Beatrice’s voice grew softer, her cheeks sporting a slight shade of crimson. “Like . . . . . . like one of the Davis kids.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Like a”—Beatrice released an audible sigh—“a commoner.”
“You mean like a normal kid?” she spat.
“I don’t know, Victoria. I just know that Ashley Lawson and Luke’s mum socialize from time to time. I can’t afford to lose this job.”
She reached out, rested a reassuring hand on Beatrice’s shoulder. “If Luke’s parents were to fire you, that little boy would never forgive them.”
“I hope you’re right.” Beatrice jumped forward as the door opened against her back. “Oh . . . Mrs. Lawson, can I help you with those?”
Mustering up every ounce of goodwill she could find, Tori closed the gap between them, her hands seeking to lighten the woman’s load. “Yes, please, let us help you with that.”
Ashley waved off Tori’s assistance, opting instead to toss the heavy garment bag into Beatrice’s waiting hands. “Penelope, of course, will need privacy for any and all costume changes.” Beckoning the nanny to follow, Ashley strode into the children’s room, firing off orders over her shoulder. “And we’ll need to adjust the lighting before Penelope takes the stage.”
“Yes, Mrs. Lawson.”
Tori jogged forward until she was in step with Beatrice. “What are you doing? You don’t have to take orders from her.”
“She’s friends with Luke’s parents and I’m their employee.”
“Beatrice!”
“It’s okay. Really.” Beatrice touched Tori’s arm then continued on, following Penelope’s mother to the clothing rack.
For a moment Tori considered marching over to the rack as well, her desire to put Ashley Lawson in her place more than a little potent. But, in the end, she resisted, the sight of Sally Davis prancing around in a white eyelet Bo Peep costume enough to convince her it was neither the time nor the place for such a confrontation.
“You remembered to put away the rope, right?”
Tori nodded, the sound of Melissa’s voice in her ear bringing a much needed smile to her lips. “I assumed you were overreacting, painting this woman as some sort of monster.”
Melissa released