We drive to the cathedral and get in line behind all the other cars waiting to drop off important people. When it’s our turn, the driver turns his head and says, “Mr. Montgomery said he might be a little late tonight. But he will find you later.”
“Noted,” I reply back, as he slips out of the car to get my door. That’s good luck. Gives me plenty of time to chat people up and find out who Thomas Brooks really is. I’m at a disadvantage here because I’m new in town. I don’t have the history of these people. And like most places, Cathedral City has prominent citizens whose families date back generations. They know their own history and they will be talking, even if it is in hushed whispers. If there’s some sort of past relationship between Blue Corp executives and Thomas Brooks, it will be gossiped about tonight.
The driver offers me a hand after he opens my door and I take it so I can ease out of the car with some dignity. Fucking ball gowns.
Immediately cameras start flashing in my face and I have to cover my eyes. The flash lingers in my vision as bright spots, but I bustle past and make my way up the cathedral stairs without comment.
Sergeant Seville greets me at the door and offers me his arm. He’s dressed in his formal uniform and smiles warmly. “You clean up well.” He shoots me a wink and I scowl.
“Thank you,” comes out automatically though. Men. They tell me to fuck off and don’t give me a second glance at work, but put me in a pretty dress and they turn into gentlemen. “Is everybody in place?”
“We are, Detective,” he says, his professionalism back. “Just as you asked. But there’s nothing to report. Quiet and dignified, that’s what this crowd is.”
When we get inside I let go of his arm and turn away, scanning the main room for faces I might recognize.
The mayor is here. Herbert Rothschild is not the first in his family to be mayor of Cathedral City. But so far the only other thing I’ve had time to learn about him is the fact that he went to law school and never ended up practicing law.
Also here is a judge I know by name, Peter Livingston, and several I know by face, but haven’t had the time to meet yet. Livingston and I had an unfortunate encounter my first day on the job. I was shadowing Detective Rollins that day, and he was due to testify. It didn’t go well for him. And the judge was pretty upset that the suspect on trial was found not guilty a few days later.
It bugged me then that Livingston seemed to take it personally and it still bugs me now. But again, I have no history with these people. And I never did have time to look up that suspect’s records to make sense of it.
“You look lost,” a gruff voice says from my left.
I turn to find a tall man with light blond hair grinning at me like a wolf. “I’m not,” I say, “just getting my bearings.”
“You’re the new detective, right? I’m Case Reider.”
He extends his hand and I reciprocate but instead of shaking it, he bows a little and touches his lips to the back of my hand. “So very nice to see you,” he says, standing up tall again.
I squint at him for a moment, almost in a trance, and then shake myself out of it. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
He smiles and lets out a soft laugh. “No, not really. But I run ToyBox Inc. We’re based over on the west side of town. You probably saw my picture in Cathedral Reports last week.”
“Oh,” I say, smiling. “One of those Peter Pan guys, huh? You never quite grew out of the video-game phase and decided to make your fortune by selling good times to other perpetual children?”
He chuckles again, this time heartier. “Something like that.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure—”
“Let’s dance, Detective Masters. Do you waltz?”
“Um,” I say, hesitating.
“I’m sure you do. I can see many days of dance lessons in your past.” And with that he takes my hand, pulls me towards him, and begins to lead.
“I do waltz,” I say, my feet reluctantly following along. “But I’m here on business tonight.”
“The dress is a ruse, then?” He smiles, making his blue eyes light up. “But you can’t let it go to waste.” He looks down for a moment as we glide across the stone floor together, like we’ve been partners for ages instead of seconds. “You’re very good at it. Where did you learn?”
“Yeah, well…” I sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Where did you learn?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Oh, my life has been one long boring string of charm school classes.”
“Oh, has it?” I can’t help myself, I laugh for real this time.
“Have you ever seen the debutante ball they have each year in the main cathedral?”
“No, but I imagine that is some affair.”
“You have no idea. I was roped into being someone’s date back in the day. And let me tell you, if she had warned me about the rehearsal time, I might’ve never agreed.” He says the words but I can immediately tell he’s not sincere. We glide past a few other waltzing couples as his eyes glaze over a little. “Close your eyes, Detective. And let me help you imagine it for a moment.”