Free This Dame for Hire by Sandra Scoppettone Page B

him?”
    Good thing I read the social notes in the paper. “Brooke,” I said.
    “Really? I didn’t know she knew about Ronald. Did she say she knew him personally?”
    Mrs. S. pressed her lips together, and I saw a muscle jump in her cheek.
    A nifty wrinkle was creeping in here, and I couldn’t resist.
    “Yes. She said she was with him a few days ago.”
    “How very interesting.”
    “I thought so,” I said. I whispered, “Brooke said she might take him on a cruise this year.”
    “A cruise?” She crinkled her brow and her eyes narrowed. Then she started giving me the fish-eye, so I thought I’d better clean things up. Maybe Brooke didn’t go on cruises.
    Trying to sound giddy, I said, “Back to the Rockefeller party.”
    “Hmmm?”
    “I don’t know them very well, do you?”
    “Very.”
    “Oh, good. I was curious about one of them.”
    She looked skeptical and curious at the same time but didn’t say anything like a normal person would. She just waited.
    I could feel sweat starting under my arms and on my back. “A young man, maybe twenty or so. He was so nice to me. You see I felt a little faint, and he took me outside to get some air. When we came back in, I lost track of him and I so wanted to thank him. His name was Alec Rockefeller. Do you know him?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “Oh, dear.”
    “Alec you say?”
    “Yes. Quite good-looking. Blond. Maybe six feet tall.”
    “Miss . . . what did you say your name was?”
    “I didn’t, but it’s Harriman.”
    “Harriman?”
    “A cousin,” I said.
    “Distant?”
    “Quite.” I smiled. “At any rate, I was asking about Alec Rockefeller. I believe he, too, is a cousin. Perhaps distant.”
    “Yes. You were. And I was about to tell you that I know the Rockefellers very well . . . all of them. And I’ve never heard anyone mention an Alec.”
    “But surely you met him at the party.”
    “Surely I didn’t. I’m not in the habit of running around with twenty-year-olds, Miss Harriman.”
    I couldn’t believe it, but she actually sniffed at the end of her sentence.
    “Oh, I wasn’t running around with him, Mrs. Skeffington. He was simply courteous and helped me downstairs to get a breath of fresh air.”
    “Nevertheless, Miss Harriman, I’ve known the Rockefellers for decades and to my knowledge, which is sizable, there isn’t now nor has there ever been anyone named Alec. Clearly he was making sport of you passing himself off as a Rockefeller.”
    “Oh, dear, oh, dear.” I tried to look as though I might faint, but I didn’t know how to fake that. I thought it was best to blow the joint. “I’m so upset, I must go.”
    “Yes, you look quite peaked, Miss Harr-i-man. ”
    Definitely time to take a powder. I backed away, turned, and made for the door. As I was leaving I called over my shoulder, “Say hello to Mr. Skeffington for me; he’s such a lovely man.”
    Before I closed the door I heard her reply.
    “Yes, especially now that he’s dead.”
    I ran down the stairs and out onto Fifty-seventh, where I took a right going east. Had to do it, didn’t ya, Quick, I said to myself. Always that one final thing that really gives the game away. Oh, well. What could she do to me anyway?
    When I got to Fifth, I started downtown and didn’t stop until I got to Forty-third Street. I made my way to my office.
    Birdie was doing her hunt and peck but looked up when I came in.
    “What happened to you, Faye? Ya look like ya seen a ghost or somethin.”
    “Wish I had.”
    “Huh?”
    “Never mind. I gotta think.”
    I went into my office and closed the door, threw my coat and hat on the client’s chair, then sat down behind my desk.
    My near catastrophe with Mrs. Skeffington made me feel a little shaky. Sometimes I didn’t know where I got the nerve. Woody would’ve been proud of me.
    I lit one up and sat back in my chair. Mrs. Skeffington was only one source, and I knew I’d have to check out others, but I had the nasty feeling that she was