Mrs. Eleanor Burnham regarded Constance icily. “You should be commended on your successful entry into our company,” she said. “It isn’t often that a young woman of your background rises above it.” “I wonder if that is indeed the case,” Constance replied, smiling sweetly. “Or perhaps it is not I who have risen but you who have fallen.”
“Farrah?”
Jane approached the bed slowly. The reporter didn’t respond, and her eyes remained open. Then Jane noticed the two small wounds on her neck. The blood around them was still fresh.
“No, no, no,” said Jane, shaking the young woman. Her limp body rolled beneath Jane’s hands. Her head turned and she looked, unseeing, into Jane’s face.
“Damn,” Jane said firmly. The girl was gone.
Clearly, she had been bitten. But by whom? As far as Jane knew, she was the only vampire in the hotel. Then again, she had never been particularly good at sensing her own kind; it was as if her vampire radar had fizzled out from years of disuse. Certainly there were likely to be others of her kind in Chicago, but she didn’t know any of them. The only other possibility was Byron.
It all became clear. Byron was the one who had sent the reporter the email. Now he had killed her in order to frame Jane not only for plagiarism but for murder as well. I knew he left too easily, she thought bitterly. He was planning his revenge.
Well, he’d done a good job of it. She looked at Farrah’s lifeless body. Then she lifted the girl’s lips with her finger, recoiling at the sensation. There was no blood on her teeth. That, at least, was good. It meant that Byron hadn’t turned her. She was merely dead. Which isn’t much of a relief, Jane thought as she closed the girl’s mouth and reached for a tissue with which to wipe her finger. As she did, she noticed the clock on the bedside table. It was almost noon.
She remembered Kelly saying that they had to be at the studio by one-thirty And she still had nothing to wear. She’d dressed comfortably for the plane, and what she had on was not at all acceptable for appearing before millions of viewers. She had to find something. But she couldn’t just leave Farrah lying on her bed. Anyone who came in would see her, and that would be disastrous.
There was no way she could get the body out of the room. Even if she could drag it into the hall, what would she do with it? And she couldn’t ask Kelly for help with this particular problem. Apart from the whole murder thing, it would bring up other questions Jane was not prepared to answer.
The longer she worried, the less time she had to shop for an outfit. She looked around the room. The closet was impractical, as was the bathtub. She would have to stow Farrah under the bed for the time being.
Taking the girl by the shoulders, she pulled her off the bed and laid her as gently as she could on the carpet. One of Farrah’s shoes fell off in the process, and Jane tried slipping it back on the bare foot. But it wouldn’t quite go, and so finally she shoved it under the bed. She followed it with Farrah’s body, first pushing it as far as she could, then going to the other side and pulling it the rest of the way.
That’s better, Jane thought as she straightened the bedspread. Now for the shopping. She located her purse and looked inside for the notes Lucy had written up for her. Lucy had written out what pieces should be worn together, and had outlined the makeup regimen Jane should follow.
Now, however, the list was useless. All of Jane’s clothes and makeup were who knew where. She had to start all over, and this filled her with panic. She didn’t even know where to begin. But the clock was ticking, and she had to move. Grabbing her key card, she left the room and headed down to the lobby, where she approached the concierge desk.
“Excuse me,” she said, trying to keep the hysteria from her voice. “Where’s the best place to look for shoes? I seem to have forgotten to pack my good ones.”
The man behind the desk answered instantly. “Macy’s,” he said. “It’s only three blocks away. Or you could try Nordstrom, but that’s farther away.”
“Macy’s will be fine,” said Jane. “Thank you.”
She rushed from the hotel and practically ran in the direction the concierge had indicated. Arriving at Macy’s breathless and exhausted, she looked anxiously at her watch. She had less than forty-five minutes to get everything she needed, get back to the hotel, and get dressed in time to meet Kelly for the ride to the television station. She unfolded Lucy’s list and read the first item.
“Black pants,” she said aloud. “Red blouse. Right.”
She consulted a directory and made her way to the women’s department. Once there, she looked about helplessly. There were at least twenty different kinds of black pants, and almost as many red blouses.
“May I help you?” A young woman who looked disconcertingly like she could be Farrah’s sister approached Jane.
“I need some clothes,” Jane said unhelpfully. “And I’m in a hurry.” She thrust the list at the associate.
The woman looked over the list and nodded. “I think I know just what you need,” she said. “Come with me. My name is Sandra, by the way.”
“Jane,” Jane said curtly. She cast her eyes at the makeup counter as they went past. Eye shadow, she thought vaguely. Lipstick. Pink, not coral.
“Let’s try these,” said Sandra as she stopped in front of a rack of pants. “I think these will fit. Why don’t you try them on, and I’ll bring you some more options.”
“I don’t think I have time to—” Jane began.
“The fitting rooms are right over there,” said Sandra. “Go on. I’ll be right with you.”
Jane, cowed, obeyed. She took the pants with her into one of the little changing rooms and dutifully tried them on. To her surprise, they actually fit. She started to take them off, relieved that things were going so smoothly, when Sandra’s voice came through the door. “Here are some more pants,” she said.
“These will be—” Jane started to say.
“Here,” said Sandra, opening the door and thrusting an armful of pants at Jane. “I’ll be right back.”
Before Jane could object further, the girl was gone. Jane looked at the pile of black pants, all of which looked to her to be exactly like the first pair, and groaned. A quick look at her watch increased her feeling of panic. I have to get out of here, she thought.
Opening the door to the dressing room, she crept to the door of the fitting room, the first pair of pants clutched in her hand. She peered out, looking for signs of Sandra. The girl was halfway across the sales floor. She had an armful of red blouses draped over one arm.
Go! a voice in Jane’s head shouted. Go now! Before she sees you!
Ducking down, she moved between the racks, keeping her head low in case Sandra spied her. Only when she was concealed behind a display of sundresses did she dare look around. Sandra was heading for the fitting rooms. Jane took the opportunity to rush over to one of the racks of blouses Sandra had been looking at. She grabbed one of the red ones, checking only to make sure that it was the right size, then fled toward the shoe department.
Minutes later, clutching a pair of black pumps, she left a stunned shoe salesman still kneeling on the floor surrounded by boxes. Next she tackled the makeup counter. “Eye shadow, lipstick, blush,” she shouted at the surprised clerk. “I don’t care what colors as long as it matches.”
The girl stared at Jane with wide eyes. “What brand would you like?” she asked. “We have a special on—”
“I have five minutes!” Jane shrieked, pounding her fist on the glass countertop.
The girl opened the cupboards beneath the counter and started pulling things out. As she worked, Jane craned her neck, hoping Sandra had given up on her. To her horror, she saw the girl wandering through the racks, apparently looking for her.
“This all looks wonderful,” Jane said to the makeup associate. “And I’d like to pay for all of this as well.” She loaded the counter with her clothes and shoes and practically flung her credit card at the girl, who ran it through the machine and handed Jane the sales slip to sign.
“I’ll just fold these for you,” the girl said, opening a bag and picking up the blouse.
“No time!” Jane said. She snatched the blouse from the girl’s hands, threw it into the bag, and swept everything else on the counter after it. “Thanks for all your help,” said Jane as she ran off. “Tell Sandra I’m sorry.”
She arrived back in her room at five minutes to one. Through the door she could hear the phone ringing. She went inside and snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”
“It’s Kelly. I just wanted to make sure you’re almost ready. We’ll be downstairs in fifteen. As usual, Bryce is running late. He has to make himself pretty for Comfort and Joy. But we’ll be at the station in plenty of time. It’s not far away.”
“Fine,” Jane said, keeping her voice as calm as possible. “That’s fine. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”
Hanging up, she emptied the contents of the shopping bag onto the bed and set to work. Getting the clothes on was easy enough, but doing her makeup was another matter. She’d left Lucy’s note in Sandra’s hands, and so she had to try to remember exactly what Lucy had said to do. Opening the eye shadow, she saw that the girl had chosen a peculiar shade of purple. When Jane dabbed some on her eyelid it gave her the appearance of having a bruise.
She tried to ignore the color and applied it as well as she could. Then she added lipstick and blush to her face and sat back to look at the results.
“I look as if I’ve been dragged backward through a hedge,” she muttered. But there was no helping it. She was due downstairs.
As she put on her new shoes, she accidentally kicked one under the bed. Kneeling, she felt around for it. Her fingers closed on the heel almost immediately. Then, as she pulled the shoe out, she realized that there was something her fingers had not touched.
Lifting the bedspread, she looked under the bed. Farrah’s body was gone.