Midlife Blues - Victoria Danann Page 0,7

and decided we’d make room for dessert even if we regretted it later.

Chef Dupere asked us to return to our chairs and prepare for the ingestion of a culinary masterpiece. Judging from the way it looked and smelled, I didn’t think that was hyperbole. As soon as we sat, the sommelier came round and filled tiny dessert wine stems with, you guessed it, a superb orange dessert wine.

The process at the demonstration station was, apparently being replicated in the kitchen at the same time, because a parade of wheeled carts filed through the butler’s pantry door and delivered the promised paradise to crystal plates that sat on larger plates with hand painted recreations of scenes from the Sistine Chapel. The idea of a Christian vampire struck me as comical, but the dinnerware probably came with the house. It was beautiful and I could see why he’d want to show it off, religious or not.

I was at occupied with my second bite of crepes la orange and thinking it couldn’t get any better. Then I sipped the dessert wine and realized that, oh yes, better was possible. Looking across the table I noticed that Keir hadn’t touched his.

“You don’t like the dessert wine?” I knew it sounded unabashedly hopeful, but I had every intention of snagging his if he didn’t want it.

“First, it’s a little on the sweet side for me. And second, there’s a murder mystery afoot. I want to stay sharp.” He mimed smoothing an imaginary mustache in imitation of Agatha Christie’s, Hercule Poirot.

I laughed just before pulling up short. Maybe Keir had a point. The inspector, and that was me, unbelievable as it might seem, should be reasonably sober. I hated leaving the dessert wine on the table, but I hated even more the idea of being sloppy with everyone staring at me for answers.

“Absolutely right,” I said, giving the orange wine a parting look of longing.

There was an empty chair where Lorca Scarlet had been. She’d never returned after the dessert demo. The initial assumption was that she’d chosen the occasion of everyone being on their feet to make a discreet visit to the ladies’.

There was also an empty seat at the head of the table, but by the time I’d enjoyed the last bit of crepes, I saw John David return to the dining room with hands in his pockets and a toothpick dangling from his mouth. He slid back into his chair and was laughing at something Braden said before he’d put his full weight down.

My host was pretty far away from me, but not so far that I didn’t notice that he didn’t touch his dessert. I reasoned that he probably thought it would be rude for the host to hold up the progress of the party.

Again, John David stood. “I trust you enjoyed Chef Dupere’s signature dessert.” We all acknowledged Chef Dupere and gave a small round of applause as he took a bow. “Shall we retire to the drawing room for coffee?”

I didn’t have a bucket list, but if I had, there surely would have been an item that read, At some time in my life, be a guest at a dinner party where the host says, “Shall we retire to the drawing room for coffee?”

Lorca Scarlet still hadn’t returned and I wondered if someone should check on her. Of course, the thing that came to mind was a telltale bloodstain on that immaculate champagne-colored, satin dress. If that happened, there’d be no way in hell to clean it or cover it up.

As we started away, Molly came up beside me and said, “This is so great. Who would’ve ever thought the reclusive vampire would turn out to be such fun?”

“Life is full of surprises. You look incredible tonight.” And she did, wearing a midnight-blue velvet dress with a sheer silk overlay that stopped at the band encircling her hips.”

“This dress was one of my all-time favorites. So, I saved it.”

I looked at her incredulously. “You mean it’s a hundred years old?”

She chuckled. “Yes.”

“You don’t smell like mothballs.”

“Rita, precious, by now you should know. Magic doesn’t smell.”

“Well, I guess that’s true. Say, you know that actress? Lorca Scarlet?”

Molly cocked her head. “Did she say she was an actress?”

“No. She said some stuff about being just in from the continent and being an old friend of John David’s. But I didn’t believe her.”

We’d reached the grand foyer, just outside the drawing room entrance. I touched her forearm, signaling for her to hold back.

“But