Free A Fashionable Murder by Valerie Wolzien Page A

apartment waiting for me to come home. It isn’t like you.”
    “I guess not.” Josie picked up the large menu and hid behind it. Sam was wrong. This was like her. Not like the Josie Pigeon she had become. But like the Josie she had been when she was young and insecure. She’d worked hard to become self-sufficient and confident. Of course, sometimes she didn’t feel that way at all.
    “Why don’t you call my mother? She would love to show you around.”
    “What a great idea!”
    Sam looked up, obviously startled. “Really? I mean, Mother can be rather—”
    “Sam, your mother loves this city. Who would be a better person to show it to me?”
    “Well, Mother loves Saks, Bergdorf’s, Bloomingdale’s, and Barney’s, but—”
    “Perfect. I promised myself some new shoes. This way I can shop and see the city at the same time.”
    Sam still looked doubtful. “You know how Mother likes to . . . to share her opinions.”
    “Sam, we’ll be fine together. We get along at home, why not here?”
    “I guess. But there is one thing.”
    “What?”
    “She may not have heard about Pamela’s death. In fact, I’m sure she hasn’t heard. She would have come over or at least have called if she knew.”
    “So? Do you think I should be the one to tell her? I mean, I don’t think I should spend the afternoon with her and not mention it. That would seem a little odd.”
    He didn’t answer right away. “I could call her . . .”
    To Josie, his answer didn’t sound overwhelmingly enthusiastic. “If you don’t mind me being the one to tell her, I don’t mind doing it.” Besides, their conversation was finally heading in what she considered the right direction.
    “She never admitted it, but I’m not sure she liked Pamela,” Sam said slowly. “So don’t be surprised if she isn’t terribly upset. But I don’t want her to start worrying about me.”
    “You mean about you being upset or about the possibility of the police thinking you killed her.” Josie found herself unwilling to say the dead woman’s name.
    Sam gave her a strange look. “Josie . . .”
    But the arrival of the wine interrupted their tête-à-tête. For once, Josie was glad Sam made such a big deal about tasting the vintage. It gave her some time to think and plan. Spending the afternoon with Carol was a golden opportunity. Especially if Carol thought her darling son was a murder suspect. Josie knew she would learn a lot. She just hoped she would learn enough to start in the right direction.
    “Josie.” Sam pointed to the full wineglass in front of her.
    She took a sip and smiled. “Delicious.” She knew it was the only response necessary as Sam could find more to discuss in one glass of wine than she could possibly imagine. And attempting to join in would be impossible. To her wine was either delicious or not worth drinking. She had explained this to Sam early in their relationship and she hadn’t been bothered with questions about finish, legs, or bouquet ever since. She listened to the conversation, smiled when she thought a smile was appropriate, and frowned when she forgot she was supposed to be enjoying herself. When their waiter appeared, she and Sam both ordered and then she excused herself and headed off to the ladies’ room.
    The door was still swinging closed as she pulled her cell phone from her purse and started to dial. Tyler first. Once again, he didn’t answer and Josie’s second message was almost identical to her first. Betty was the second person she called.
    “Hi, Betty, I . . . well, to tell the truth, he didn’t notice. No. Really. No, I didn’t touch it! Yes. Well, maybe he has more important things on his mind. . . . Betty, don’t worry about it, I like it. That’s what’s important. Listen, that’s not why I called. Sam and I are having lunch. In a French place over on Madison . . . La Belle Jardin . . . Betty, you’re not listening to me! He’s going to see Jon after lunch. Yes, they’re meeting. Yes .