Free Raiders of the Lost Corset by Ellen Byerrum Page A

served as her coffee table, her center of calm, her secret refuge. She had inherited the trunk from her favorite great-aunt, and she sought out the familiar security of its contents whenever she was fatigued, worried, and lonely. At the moment, she was all three.
    Magda’s murder and Stella’s pledge to help find the killer were alarming enough, but Lacey felt an empty ache inside that had nothing to do with hunger or danger or blue champagne, and everything to do with Vic Donovan. The Aimee Mann music she was listening to didn’t help, but the mournful melodies and sad stories fit her mood. She had hoped Vic would meet her in the City of Light after the big corset hunt. That wouldn’t happen now. She wondered if she would ever see him again. She forced him from her thoughts and concentrated on Mimi’s treasure chest.
    The trunk was filled with Mimi’s treasured collection of vintage patterns, suits, dresses, and gowns of every description, mostly from the 1940s. Many were still attached to the fabrics Mimi had selected for them but never made. Some were partly made but not finished. They were beguiling. Some were more than half completed, some had photos clipped of movie stars outfitted in similar attire, all were intriguing. Lacey was slowly having some of the stunning outfits made for her. It was an expensive lux-ury, but worth every penny. Grateful that she and Aunt Mimi had the same taste and style and were the same size, petite with real women’s curves, Lacey loved to imagine where she would wear such beautiful clothes. The trunk brought her closer to Mimi and it contained more than its share of mystery in old letters, photos, fabrics, and memories, a time capsule from Mimi’s adventurous life. Even a short trip through the trunk left Lacey feeling better, as if she had stepped through a door into another time and place, and right now she had to get the sight of Magda’s amused dead eyes out of her mind.
    Reminding her of a pirate’s treasure chest, the trunk added just the right panache to her shabby-chic living room. Lacey lifted the heavy lid and steadied the top. A whiff of decades-old lavender sachets wafted up delicately and tickled her nose, evoking her Aunt Mimi. She wondered what Mimi would do. Would she abandon Paris as a lost cause, or grab this once-in-a-lifetime chance with both hands?
    Go, girl, trust your instincts. That’s what feminine intuition is for, isn’t it? Lacey imagined her saying. Don’t forget your war paint!
    Of course Mimi would be on her side. Lacey lifted out a black-and-white photograph of Mimi in her early thirties. She was a beauty who never married, although she had plenty of boyfriends and one long-term romantic relationship that the family wasn’t supposed to know about. Lacey looked quite a bit like Mimi with her high cheekbones and expressive green-blue eyes. But while Mimi’s hair was a vibrant auburn, Lacey’s was a light brown with subtle highlights, courtesy of Stella.
    Lacey set aside the photo and lifted a special garment left to her by Aunt Mimi, a tarty black lace and satin number with seven stays and twelve hooks and eyes. A corset in the style known as a Merry Widow, it was wrapped in tissue tied with pink ribbons. Lacey couldn’t imagine how women in the Forties and Fifties had worked up the nerve to buy such things. She had nearly died of embarrassment being fitted by Magda for her new blue satin corset, and Mimi’s Merry Widow was at least as racy. It sucked in the waist and ended at the top of the hips. Lacey had worn it several times under a couple of her vintage outfits to get just the right hourglass silhouette. Literally it was breathtaking, and with the garters and stockings attached, it made her look like Bondage Bar-bie. Only the whip was missing.
    Lacey thought of the baby-blue satin confection of a corset Magda had insisted she needed and which Stella thought was appropriate funeral attire. While Stella was interested more in the