Free Bonefire of the Vanities by Carolyn Haines

phone and dial it.”
    “Simpler from the female perspective. You’re dealing with a man. They don’t have logical thought processes.”
    “And they don’t know how to say they were wrong.”
    “That, too. But for heaven’s sake, missy, this is great news! What are you going to tell him?”
    I thought about it for a moment. “I’ll call a Los Angeles bakery and order a dozen homemade biscuits delivered to his trailer on the set.” Two could play this game.
    Tinkie patted the script. “What a strange engagement you two have. Movies and biscuits. Hurry up and place the order. We need to get to Heart’s Desire so we can talk to Mrs. Littlefield and get back to our men.”
    *   *   *
    We arrived at the compound a little after eleven. At the gate, armed guards surrounded us. Even though I’d prepared Tinkie for the security, she protested loudly as the vehicle was thoroughly searched. The security team confiscated our cell phones and her camera.
    “No electronic devices allowed,” a guard said. “Pick them up on your way out.”
    “Do they interfere with the communications with the dead?” Tinkie asked sweetly.
    I tried a few wisecracks, but the boys in black had no sense of humor. They went about their task as if Tinkie and I might be smuggling in C4 explosives. They even took the floor mats out of the car and pulled out the backseat. Thorough. To Tinkie’s dismay, they found the second cell phone she’d secreted in the spare tire of the car.
    Before they let us back in the car, they called the main house to check our credentials. Harold had done a good job, because a female voice gave permission for us to enter. The lead guard produced an electronic gizmo, which opened the gate. Feeling as if we might be shot if I sped, I let the compact roll down the drive at five miles an hour.
    “This place is beautifully landscaped,” Tinkie said. “Harold is researching the history of the property for us. The house has been empty for years.”
    “Someone did a lot of work.” Near the pool, which had a waterfall and a miniature volcano, palm trees swayed in a gentle breeze. I planted the layout firmly in my mind. It would come in handy.
    When we got to the front door, I stopped and started to exit the car.
    “Do not park that ugly car there.” A butler in full tails strode out the door. He shooed us as if we were naughty children. “The help parks in the back, where you will be accommodated. None of your personal things are allowed in the main house. You will enter the main house empty-handed each morning and you will leave the same way in the evening. Is that clear?”
    Tinkie did a slow boil. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but—”
    “Yes, sir,” I answered as I pushed her away. “I’ll move the car.”
    “Back talk is a mistake. The next incident will be your last. And I am Mr. Palk.”
    “Yes, sir, Mr. Palk,” I said with more enthusiasm.
    Easing the car around the drive, I found the servants’ parking lot and pulled into a slot. Tinkie had finally cooled off.
    “How dare that man speak to us in that tone.”
    “We’re maids,” I reminded her.
    “What does it matter? I don’t treat Melinda like she’s dirt. She’s family, and I want her to know it.”
    “Mr. Palk may be upset because Mrs. Littlefield is demanding her own servants. It may reflect poorly on him and his management of the staff. If that’s the case, he’ll ride our asses day and night.” An unpleasant thought.
    “Well, he’d better be careful. I’ll make him wish he was back in butler school in Merry Old England.”
    I popped the trunk so we could grab our bags. “Remember, Tink. You’re Tinkie Jones, not Mrs. Richmond. We can’t back-talk the butler.”
    “Not right this minute, but if he treats me ugly, payback will be hell, I assure you.”
    I didn’t doubt it for a minute. Tinkie treated all people fairly. The one thing she couldn’t tolerate was using position or status to suppress a