Free Diva's Last Curtain Call by Angela Henry Page B

pressure.
    “What?” Stephanie replied innocently. Her heavily madeup eyes widened in faux shock. She looked like a startled clown.
    “I know you gave him money, Stephanie. For God’s sake, even Vivianne knew not to give Kurt any money.”
    Uh-oh. I instinctively knew those were fighting words. Anyone with sense should know not to compare one’s former spouse favorably with their current spouse, at least not unless that person didn’t mind sleeping with one eye open. I peered over at Stephanie and saw her visibly stiffen.
    “You’re absolutely right, Cliff. Vivianne never gave Kurt anything. Not love, time, attention or money. The only thing she loved more than herself was the damn camera. I’m the only mother that boy has ever known and I’m going to make sure he’s happy.” Stephanie buried her face in her napkin.
    “Dammit, Stephanie, Vivianne’s dead. I didn’t mean it that way and you know it,” Cliff said sheepishly while stirring his coffee.
    “Yes, you did,” she said blowing her nose. “I don’t care that she’s dead. And I’ll tell you another thing, Clifford Preston. I wouldn’t be so high and mighty if I were you, because you’ve had some filthy little habits of your own. Haven’t you?”
    Now it was Cliff’s turn to stiffen. Stephanie shrank back against the booth. Cliff stood up and tossed money on the table. “I’ll be in the car. Don’t be long.” I watched as he stalked out of the restaurant. Five minutes later, Stephanie left, as well.
    I pondered what I’d just overheard as I was finishing my lunch. So Vivianne DeArmond had a son. Interesting. I knew Vivianne had been married but hadn’t been enough of a fan to know she had a son. And apparently Vivianne and her son hadn’t been close. Did Kurt try and hit her up for money, too? And had he got mad when she’d said no? Mad enough to plunge a letter opener into her back? Maybe I should mention this when I gave my statement to Harmon and Mercer. Then another big question came to mind. Why hadn’t Noelle Delaney mentioned her connection to Kurt? You’d have thought that at some point during all the madness of yesterday she’d have mentioned she knew Vivianne’s son. I didn’t remember seeing a wedding or engagement ring on Noelle’s finger or a wedding band on Kurt’s, so why the big secret? I intended to find out.

CHAPTER 5
     
    I t was after eight o’clock that evening and Allegra, Noelle and I were sitting on Mama’s porch drinking lemonade and digesting the huge Sunday meal of pork roast, sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green beans and peach cobbler we’d just consumed. By the time I’d finally seen Carl and Allegra it was dinner time. My uncle Alex and his girlfriend of the past eight years, Gwen Robins, were also present. We all crowded around Mama’s dining-room table. I knew it wasn’t the time to bring up the breakfast rendezvous. Plus, I’d calmed down considerably since that morning.
    Still, I kept watching the two of them closely to try and detect any evidence of illicit activity: lustful looks of longing, lipstick-smeared collars, hickeys, wadded-up condom wrappers falling out of pockets. I even dropped my napkin on the floor on purpose to make sure they weren’t holding hands under the table. Nothing. It was almost as though they were ignoring each other on purpose. After dinner, Mama had gone to play bridge at a friend’s house and Alex, Gwen and Carl had gone to watch a Reds game on Alex’s big-screen TV. That left just us girls. Good. Now, I had to figure out a way to bring up Kurt.
    “Your grandmother’s an awesome cook,” Noelle said to no one in particular. Thinking back to the way she’d practically licked her plate I knew she was being truthful.
    “Thanks,” said Allegra and I simultaneously. We looked at each other and smiled. Now that Carl wasn’t around I was more relaxed. Being paranoid is tiresome and takes up way too much energy.
    “Have you heard anything more from