The boisterous young agent puffed up like a peacock. Grinning, Luella turned to talk to Franklin while Zach stared into space, his eyes glazing over. He was undoubtedly indulging in a fantasy in which dozens of adoring fans pleaded with him to read their manuscripts, offering him a host of pleasures in exchange for a few minutes of his time.
Watching Luella work her charms on Zach provoked me into reaching in my purse for the Woodside Creative Camp photograph I’d copied seconds before the meeting. Tearing a sheet from my notepad, I wrote, Do you remember when this picture was taken, Sue Ann? I then signed my name, because I wanted it to be perfectly clear to Luella that I knew her real identity. I was hoping for a telling reaction, but I also wanted her to see that I was the aggressor and wasn’t afraid of her. That wasn’t entirely true, but I was going to do my best not to show any fear.
Sticking the note in the transparent sleeve on top of the photo, I waited until Bentley’s attention was diverted by Jude’s suggestion to bring in a big name to serve as the conference’s keynote speaker. While the pair debated over which author would draw the largest crowd, I pushed the photo sleeve across the slick surface of the conference table.
Luella raised a quizzical, pencil-drawn brow at me, as though we were in school and were in danger of being caught passing notes discussing a cute boy in our class. She read what I’d written and blanched. Digging her French-manicured nails into the photo sleeve, she whisked my note out of the way and stared at the image of her younger self. And Marlette.
Her lips formed a tight red line of anger as she crumpled the pages between her hands. She glared at me, her green-eyed stare filled with loathing. If her eyes had the power to burn, she would have happily reduced me to a pile of ash. I realized two things at that moment: one, Luella wore colored contacts; and two, I had just made an enemy of Luella, a potential murderer.
I’d expected her to be shocked, to appear guilty or even hostile, but the raw hatred on her face was terrifying. I was the one person who could expose her, who could call the police and explain how Luella and Marlette were connected. She would become their chief suspect at once, and I’d shown her my hand without giving it a second thought.
But was she guilty of murdering Marlette? What would her motive have been? Her false accusation of so many years ago wouldn’t threaten her career as a literary agent, would it?
“Hel-lo?” Bentley gave an impatient wave of her hands. “Earth to Lila?”
“Sorry,” I said quickly, relieved to have a reason to escape the intensity of Luella’s stare. “Could you repeat the question?”
Bentley sighed in exasperation while Flora leaned toward me and whispered, “She wants to know if you’d like to be the moderator for a panel on writing fiction queries.”
“Yes, of course!” I declared as I saw movement from across the table out of the corner of my eye. Luella had risen to her feet, still glowering at me.
“We’re not done,” Bentley informed her briskly, but Luella’s expression instantly changed to one of agony.
Clutching her stomach, she murmured miserably, “Please excuse me! I’m going to be sick!” and rushed from the room. She’d barely reached the hall before Jude sprang from his chair and dashed after her.
“What the hell is going on?” Bentley tossed her pen down in disgust. “This is not how my meetings are run!” She examined her watch and folded her arms across her chest in irritation. “I need to call an editor soon anyway, so why don’t we adjourn until everyone is healthy enough and focused enough”—Bentley cast a steely glance in my direction—“to continue.”
The agents remained seated until Bentley breezed out, at which point they began twittering excitedly about the conference. I joined in long enough to prove my enthusiasm for the event and then went after Luella. Her perfumed office was empty, so I checked Jude’s next. It was also unoccupied. I hurriedly checked the bathroom, the kitchen, and the reception area, and it was then that I heard voices on the stairs.
“Luella, my beautiful flower, talk to me!” Jude’s tone was pleading.
“Just leave me alone!” she cried above the sharp refrain of her heels striking the tiled floor in the lobby below. Seconds later, I heard the heavier treads of Jude’s loafers echoing up the stairwell as he descended after her. Within seconds, both agents were gone.
I hesitated. Chasing after Luella without proof that she’d harmed Marlette might be a waste of time. It could also be dangerous. I needed to find a substantial piece of evidence and then hand it over to Sean. Heading back to my desk, I decided to go about business as usual, but when all the other agents left on their lunch breaks, I would stay behind in order to search Luella’s office.