The best way to find out if anyone else was thinking that Saundra had been murdered would be to eat dinner with a bunch of women who’d been drinking too much.
And besides, I could have a piece of chocolate cheesecake.
• • •
We took the frigid elevator down to the lobby. I was quiet as we descended, still fragile from this morning’s events and uneasy with Tessa’s complete denial of Saundra’s demise being something more than cracking her head open. Tessa broke the silence.
“It must have been such a shock for you to have discovered Saundra. It’s a huge loss to the bead world,” said Tessa, crossing herself.
“I don’t know if anyone from the bead world will miss her—she was pretty condescending to me and everyone else. Even you didn’t like her pompous attitude when she visited your studio a few months back.” In April, during a Weekend of Education, Enlightenment, and Design—we tried not to laugh when we called it WEED—Saundra had demonstrated how to make a leopard print glass bead. Tessa had had a hard time managing Saundra because she acted as if she were the star of the show, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“She made gorgeous glass beads. She promoted the heck out of herself, and by doing that, I think she helped teach the general public about beads,” said Tessa.
“Seriously, that makes her wonderful? She would never give me—or you, for that matter—the time of day. You mean that Saundra?” It wouldn’t surprise me at all to find out that someone had killed her. People may have admired—or tolerated—her, but most disliked her as much as I did.
“But we don’t speak ill of the dead,” Tessa said, crossing herself again, and saying something in Italian. She could become extremely Italian and Catholic at times, and talking about death was one of them.
“Just because she’s dead doesn’t change who she was,” I said. “I tried to save her life, but that doesn’t make me suddenly believe she was a saint.”
“But, Jax, someone must have loved her. She must have family members who care about her, who will miss her now that she’s gone to heaven.”
“Heaven? You think she’d go to heaven?”
“Yes, heaven, Jax. Don’t you believe in heaven?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” I said, realizing that this was not the best response. “I just don’t believe—”
“You know what, Jax? I’d think you of all people could understand that this person, although maybe not a nice person, shouldn’t have died the way she did. And I believe, and I have taught my children to believe, that each of us is special, and each of us is good,” said Tessa, glaring at me.
“Save your preaching for someone else—“ I interrupted myself. “I’m sorry, I’m just so frazzled, I don’t even know what I’m saying.”
Tessa’s phone started dinging, as a flurry of text messages arrived. Izzy and Ashley must have been fighting again.
“Geez, Tessa! Your phone—it’s driving me crazy. Can’t Craig handle the girls? Don’t let all that drama at home make matters worse.”
“No, Jax, you’re driving me crazy,” Tessa said, rummaging in her purse for her phone, finding it and gasping at what she saw on the screen. “I need to call home,” Tessa said over her shoulder as she hurried away.
“I think I’ll feel better if I have some dinner,” I said, but what I was really thinking about was dessert and the healing powers of chocolate cheesecake. I yelled after her, hoping to lure her back. “Or maybe I’ll go find Ryan. I’ll bet he’s on duty guarding the ballroom. No one will ever get past him. You should have seen him this morning. He wouldn’t let me onto the show floor even a minute before eight o’clock. He’s a real stickler, but kind of cute.” She pushed through the rotating front door and was gone.
Collapsing into one of the giant vinyl chairs that lined the walls of the lobby, I dropped my head into my hands. I examined the white