No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 by Sara M. Barton Read Free Book Online Page A

out
the door of the office, I could see Gloria busy talking on the
phone. Kendall was in the production booth across the way. I could
see her editing her piece through the interior window. Everyone
else seemed to have left the building. Moving quickly, I took out
my camera phone and snapped a couple of pictures of the envelope,
including the return address. It was just an ordinary # 10 business
envelope, with a logo in the upper left-hand corner. The graphic
was of an open eye and a closed eye. The name of the company was
Wink-Wink Productions, with a Manhattan address. It was postmarked
from New York two days ago.
    “Everything okay?” Gloria
stepped in with another pile of papers for Ralph, wearing a
smile.
    “I was just leaving this
stack for Ralph, and I wanted to put them somewhere they wouldn’t
get swallowed up by the crowd.”
    “Well, the chair looks like
a fine place. I’ll make sure he gets them first thing in the
morning. He said he’d be back tonight, after the shoot, if anything
is critical.”
    “No,” I replied, heading out
of Ralph’s office, his assistant on my heels. “Tomorrow’s
fine.”
    “Where are you staying,
Dori? Can I give you a ride?” Gloria picked up her hobo bag from
her desk and pulled out her car keys.
    “Thanks, no. Bosco promised
to pick me up. I’m staying with him.”
    “Well, see you
tomorrow.”
    “You, too.” Gloria stepped
outside and crossed the parking lot to her Subaru wagon. I watched
her through the window as I waited for Bosco. Alone in the office,
I thought about what I discovered. George had sent Ralph something
in the mail after he had ripped me off. Would Ralph tell me about
it in the morning?
    I caught sight of a movement
out of the corner of my eye and realized Bosco had parked his Ford
Taurus in the spot Gloria had vacated. Closing the door of Dynamic
Productions behind me, I double-checked the knob to make sure it
was locked before crossing the parking lot and sliding into the
passenger seat next to Bosco.
    “Where to?” he wanted to
know.
    “I need some clothes,” I
told him. “How about Kohl’s? They’re probably having a
sale.”
    “Do I get to help pick out
your new wardrobe or am I delegated to purse-holding?”
    “Depends,” I grinned. “What
did you have in mind?”
    An hour later, I had
rummaged through the Ralph Lauren sales rack, selecting a few
summer jersey dresses, slacks, and blouses, personally approved by
Bosco. We moved on to the lingerie department, where I found some
panties and bras, a cotton nightie, and a night shirt.
    “You should get some shorts
and tee shirts,” Bosco said. “Can’t beat the price. And
sneakers.”
    “It seems so strange to have
lost all my clothes,” I sighed. “I’m going to miss my shoe
collection. It took me a long time to build it up.”
    “Let’s hope the insurance
company comes through, and you’ll have a chance to replace
things.”
    “That would be nice,” I
answered, “but I’m not holding my breath.”
    Bosco paid for everything.
He took out his wallet, picked a card, and slid it through the
scanner. I felt an odd sensation as he signed for my clothes. How
long it had been since we were a real couple, and how far apart we
had grown before we finally divorced. The last time he had paid for
something, it had been a new tire when mine had gone flat with a
puncture. Bosco had driven me to the garage to pick up my car.
Kevin was still alive, in the back seat, wanting to know if we
could stop for ice cream on the way to his game. After Kevin died,
it was like we were two people living different lives in the same
house. That was so long ago. Bosco looked at me now and I saw the
familiar face, but there was a question in his eyes. I wasn’t sure
what he was asking from me. In some ways, Bosco seemed very
different than the man I had been married to for nearly two
decades. He smiled as he put his wallet away.
    “Ready?” I nodded. We picked
up all the bags and left the