He smiled, popped it into his mouth, wiped his hand on his slacks, and stuck out his hand. She shook it. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Matthew Wilde, chief of police here in St. Lumis.”
“I’m Pippa Cinelli.” She eyed him up and down. “You could have at least duded up like a Wild West lawman and worn a yellow duster, a nice big Colt .45 strapped to your leg. Maybe some black gloves.”
“A yellow duster, hmm, like in the old spaghetti westerns with Clint Eastwood? That’s quite an image—maybe next year.”
Pippa pushed back her mask and eyed him. “You’d mosey when you walked, too, make the duster flare out, show off your boots. Men would fear you, and women would want to jump you. Well, at least maybe the teenage girls.”
13
Wilde laughed and looked at Pippa more closely. “Now, there’s a visual. It’s off-season, and we haven’t met. Does that mean you’re here visiting relatives, or did you come for our famous drunken Halloween bash?”
“Actually, I’m here to take a break from the big bad city. A Halloween party at Leveler’s is an overdue treat.” She pointed to the punch bowl. “I wonder how much vodka is swimming around in that orange punch?”
“I’ve already seen at least half a dozen vodka dumps. The noise should increase exponentially as the evening goes on. So, what do you think of Mrs. Trumbo?”
“She’s been nice, she makes marvelous oatmeal cookies, but I wouldn’t want to mess with her. She’s built like a tank. I’ll bet the late Major Trumbo didn’t mess with her, either.”
“She’s a pussycat when you get her talking about her son, Ronald, a textile artist in Baltimore. But you’re right, I wouldn’t want to tangle with her, either.”
“I made plans at the last minute and ended up in the only room available—the honeymoon suite. She was pleased to get a customer, but I could tell she was disappointed I was alone. She hoped to get a groom on the premises to liven things up.”
“I’ve never seen the honeymoon suite. I’m picturing a big waterbed, a mirror in the ceiling, and bordello-red towels in the bathroom.”
“Sorry, no water in the bed, no ceiling mirror. There are, however, red draperies, and the Jacuzzi in the bathroom could host a party.”
“Is this your first visit to St. Lumis, Ms. Cinelli?”
“Actually, I lived here years ago, before my folks moved to Boston. I remember there was another police chief. What was his name?”
“Barnabas Cosby, a fine man with a firm grip. He and his wife took off for Montana. Not to hunt or raise buffalo, he told me. He’s a big skier. His wife isn’t so much, but luckily she likes to shoot snakes and make belts out of them.”
She stared at him. “You made that up.”
He put his palm over his chest. “No, I swear. Evidently there are lots of snakes in Montana, slithery ones and, of course, the all-too-common two-legged ones, I’m sure. Do you ski?”
She nodded. “Colorado. Vail, Aspen, my two favorite places. Snow’s like fine powder. And you?”
“Last time I skied was in Switzerland. Good skiing, good fun, until I got plowed into by a kid, another American, who nearly sent me flying off a thousand-foot cliff. An older woman, gray hair flying all over her head, saw it all. Quick as a flash, she was right there, planted her pole and rammed me sideways, saved me from a swan dive into eternity. I asked her to marry me, but alas, she was already married, although she thought I was a cutie. At least I think that’s what she said. A lot of this is supposition since her English was nearly as bad as my French.” He grinned really big as he spoke. “I think her name was Yvette.”
Pippa decided she liked him. “Good story. I wonder if it’s true?”
He crossed his heart.
Pippa waved at the punch bowl. “The vodka-laced punch tastes too good. I’ve got to be careful, or I’ll be out there on the dance floor trying to do the rumba, clothing optional.”
A dark eyebrow went up, then a flash of a smile. “That image just neon-lit my brain. If I weren’t the chief of police, I’d offer you another cup and ask you to dance with me.”
Pippa took another tiny sip and made herself set down her cup. “Best not slug down any more of that very fine liquid sin. I remember St. Lumis was pretty peaceful, no real crime, just