Cairo scowled. “Not this time.”
“Goodness!” Vivian exclaimed, cradling her chimney glass, which was now almost full of what looked
like bourbon. “To think that all these Hollywood
people were here and I never noticed! That’s what I get
for being such a night owl! I miss the comings and goings during the day.”
Judith felt obliged to offer Joe’s ex a thin smile.
Cairo was moving restlessly around the room, his
gaze darting between Herself’s glass and Herself’s decolletage. “I’d better chat up these folks, just to remind
them they shouldn’t wander off.” His hooded eyes
turned to Joe. “You want to tell ’em to rise and shine?”
“No,” Joe responded. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Hey!” Cairo raised his voice and scowled at Joe.
“Who’s in charge here?”
“You are,” Joe retorted. “You tell them to rise and
shine.”
Cairo started to speak, stopped, and turned his scowl
on Dilys. “You’re it.”
Dilys’s gray eyes widened. “Me?” She hesitated, as
if waiting for verification. “Okay.” Obediently, she
trotted out of the parlor.
“Now,” Vivian said, slithering onto the window seat,
“tell me about all these gorgeous hunks who are sleeping just over my head.”
When Joe didn’t answer, Judith stepped in. “There
are only two actors, Dirk Farrar and Ben Carmody. The
actresses are Angela La Belle and Ellie Linn.”
In a dismissive gesture, Herself waved the hand that
wasn’t holding her drink. “Actresses! They’re all
made-up hussies. Surely there must be more . . . men.”
Judith glanced at Joe, whose expression was blank.
He and his ex remained on friendly terms, and not only
because they had a daughter. It seemed to Judith that
Herself was some kind of source of amusement to Joe.
Or maybe she was a reminder, the living reinforcement
of Joe and Judith’s good luck in finally finding each
other. Judith hoped it was the latter that made him so
indulgent of—or was it indifferent to?—Vivian’s notso-subtle charms.
In response to the question, Judith nodded. “There
are other men, but they’re not actors. They’re directors
and writers and—”
Herself waved again. “Aren’t those types homely?”
Before Judith could try to reply, Cairo intervened.
“Let’s cut out the chitchat, ladies. I want to hear some
specifics about this so-called accident. Tell me,” he
said, standing in front of the fireplace with his hands
folded behind his back, “who discovered Zepf’s body?”
“I did,” Judith admitted, sounding miserable.
“You did, eh?” Cairo glanced at Joe. “Not the great
