Pasta Imperfect - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,55

her gum fattening her cheek like a giant matzo ball. "You unpublished people don't have a clue about the business. It's cutthroat. Dog eat dog. If Jeannette got a rash and was too miserable to finish her proposal, that's one less person I'd have to compete with. Get it?"

"But you have a business where you help people with their writing! How can you help them with one hand and stab them in the back with the other?"

Keely smiled. "M-O-N-E-Y! Prepublished writers will pay anything to have someone help them get into print. I'm not stupid. I know how to make a buck off the system."

"How much did you make off Cassandra when you critiqued her writing?"

Keely gave her elbow a vigorous scratch before eyeing me curiously. She snapped her gum with a loud, juicy crack. "How did you know about Cassandra? My client list is confidential."

I shot her a steely look. "I have my sources. Tour escorts have access to a great deal of information."

Keely fanned her fingers through her hair. "Well, you know something? I don't like it that you know so much. And I really don't like it that you're sniffing around me like you think I had something to do with the deaths of those two women. So how about you go do what escorts are supposed to do and leave me alone."

"No problem." I'd let her know I had my eye on her. I guess that's all I could do at the moment. "Are you going into the cathedral?"

She waved off the suggestion. "I've seen churches before. I don't see what the big deal is." She capped off her statement by working her gum to the front of her mouth and beginning to blow.

Okay. I didn't need any instant replays. I headed across the terrace, but had only taken a half dozen steps when I heard an angry, "UHH!" behind me. Pausing, I glanced over my shoulder to find Keely grabbing a fistful of her long red hair and whining pathetically as she regarded the bubble - gum - coated strands. "UHH!" she grunted again, stomping her foot.

I guess her bubble had burst. Literally. Always disappointing when that happens. I brandished my camera in the air at her. "You want me to get a picture of that?" I asked helpfully.

I guessed her scowl meant no.

The morning was so wonderfully warm and sunny, I couldn't face the coolness of a dark cathedral right away, so I followed the path around the outside of the structure, realizing for the first time that the cathedral was built in the shape of a Roman cross, with a huge dome popping up from the transept. Another dome. God, I hoped no one tried to climb it. I stopped to snap some pictures of the intricate geometric patterns and spiky niches carved into the cathedral's facade and realized these were the same arches and columns and curlicues used in the design of the bell tower and the circular building west of the cathedral. I loved all the replication in the building designs. It was so well coordinated. Kind of like having your belt, shoes, and pocketbook all match.

I rounded the corner at the rear of the church, mulling over my conversation with Etienne and thinking about patterns, because I saw the makings of a definite pattern hidden within the information he'd given me. And it all boiled down to one thing.

"Emily!" I glanced straight ahead to see Fred barreling toward me in an outright panic. Sweat beaded his brow. Alarm strained his voice. "Where is everyone? Do you know? They've disappeared. How could they disappear on me like that?"

I recalled my episode at St. Peter's and smiled. Deja vu all over again. I pointed to the cathedral. "They're getting the grand tour. Take a deep breath and calm down. No one left you behind."

"Geesch, I went to the men's room and when I got out, I couldn't find the group anyplace." He mopped his forehead with his sleeve, looking slightly less frantic now. "Gave me a scare."

His hat was hanging by its chin strap around his neck, which looked kind of dangerous to me. If he accidentally caught it in one of these five - hundred - pound cathedral doors, he'd choke to death. "How come you're not hanging with Brandy Ann and Amanda today?"

His eyeballs quivered in their sockets. He fiddled with his chin strap. "You know how it goes. Three's a crowd."

Now this was interesting. He'd turned pale at the