Murder in Nice by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

came to visit Annie? Annie was asleep.
Wasn’t she?
    “ Well, I didn’t get a good
look.” Dee-Dee said, glancing down the hall as if contemplating
making a run for it.
    Maggie stepped into the darkened room,
confirmed snores were coming from Annie in the bed, and returned to
the hallway. “What man?” she asked again. “Why would you care if a
man was in Desiree’s room?”
    “ I’d care plenty if it was
Bob Randall,” Dee-Dee said in a taunting tone.
    “ Bob Randall and Desiree
are an item?”
    “ Not in any imaginable
universe,” Dee-Dee said. “But I’m sure she wishes they were.”
    Maggie hesitated and then pulled the room
door shut. She turned to Dee-Dee and nodded toward the elevator.
“Why don’t we take this conversation downstairs so Mrs. Morrison
can sleep undisturbed? Say, the hotel bar?” Maggie forced herself
to smile and was rewarded by what appeared to be a genuine smile
back.
     
    The waiter brought two glasses of white wine
and retreated to the mahogany-encased vestibule leading to the
kitchen. The bar at the Soho was elegant. A small plaque indicated
the hotel had been built in the late seventeen hundreds by an
intrepid pair of Brits sick of the English winters but wanting to
retain as many touches of home as possible. The bar looked like it
could be easily transplanted back to the interior of any one of
many elegant hotel bars in London.
    “ I think we were all
surprised the police didn’t ask more questions,” Dee-Dee said,
sipping her wine. Maggie couldn’t help think that even the tiniest
hint of blush would do wonders in perking up the woman’s sallow
complexion. Did she not have a mother?
Girlfriends? A mirror?
    “ Bob said it was because
they didn’t have a decent translator and none of us speak French.
Except Desiree, of course.”
    “ Lanie didn’t speak
French?”
    “ No, she hated the French.
Regaled us all for hours with anti-France jokes. Some of them were
pretty funny.”
    “ Is it strange that she
gave tours in France?”
    “ Not at all.”
    “ What about you? You’re not
here because you love France?”
    “ Oh, hell, no.” Dee-Dee
laughed. “I’m here for the job. We could be in Helsinki for all I
care.”
    “ Don’t you feel your
delivery will lack empathy or…depth if you’re not passionate about
the places you’re going to?”
    “ Yeah, I can see how you’d
think that. Most people do. But this is a business, and more than
that, it’s entertainment. It’s got nothing to do with the
place.”
    “ That’s too
bad.”
    “ If you say so.”
    “ When I came upon you in
the hallway, you seemed concerned that Bob Randall and Desiree
might be together in the room.”
    “ Yeah, but now that I
really think about it, that’s ridiculous.”
    “ Are you and Bob
together?”
    “ I guess you picked up on
that, huh?” Dee-Dee simpered.
    “ Did Lanie know about
it?”
    Dee-Dee’s smile evaporated. “She knew,” she
said slowly, as if processing the information herself, “but it’s
not like she wanted him. Bob said they’d nearly gotten together a
couple of times but nothing happened.”
    “ Did Bob want something to
happen?”
    Dee-Dee snorted. “More
like Lanie wanted
something to happen.”
    “ Because of the co-anchor
slot.”
    “ Hey, that is not why Bob and I are
together.”
    “ Sure. I believe
you.”
    “ Besides, Lanie was with
someone.”
    “ You mean her boyfriend,
Olivier?”
    “ Now, you see, that was
always hard for me to believe that she and Olivier were together.
Have you met him? The camera guy? He is seriously hot. No, because
she and Jim hooked up at the beginning of the tour.”
    Maggie’s face must have
looked confused because Dee-Dee added, “Jim Anderson? The old rich
dude? The old married rich dude?”
    “ Lanie was sleeping with
him?”
    “ Well, he is rich.”
    If what Dee-Dee said was true, Maggie had to
admit it qualified as a pretty solid motive for Olivier.
    “ Are you sure?” Maggie
asked.
    “ Ask