Read Pie A La Murder for Free Online Page B

a bit full of himself,” Liddy said, “but there’s never been a word about his being anything less than professional when he’s working with a subject. And, his wife is always right there with him. She was his protégée, and takes pictures when someone can’t afford Alec.”
    From inside the small pouch Celeste carried as a purse, we heard her cell phone ring. She pulled it out and saw the caller ID. “Oh, God!” With a grimace, she pushed “Answer” and said, “Hello, Mummy . . .” I saw a sudden rush of color to her cheeks. “Oh, Mummy, no!”
    She took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Where are you and Freddie staying?” What Celeste heard made her cover her mouth to suppress a gasp. “Where am I ?”
    She looked around wildly. “Uhhhh . . . I’m at Disneyland! I’m losing my signal—I’ll call you later.” She disconnected, lowered her head, and whispered, “We’ve got to get out of here right now.”
    “Why? There are people I want you to meet,” Liddy said.
    I asked Celeste, “What’s happened?”
    “Mummy and Freddie are here. They just checked into this hotel !”
    Three days ago, if anyone had asked me how I felt about the possibility of meeting Nicholas’s ex-wife, I would have said airily that it didn’t bother me in the slightest.
    I would have been lying.
    But now, knowing that there was a Freddie in the picture, I relaxed. A little.
    I said, “If you’re concerned that your mother and her friend will see us—”
    “He’s not her friend—he’s her fiancé.” Celeste didn’t sound happy about that.
    “What I was going to say is that if you don’t want your mother and her fiancé to see you here, I’ll take you out through the back and over to the next street. Liddy can get her car from the valet and meet us around the corner.”
    “Good idea,” Liddy said.
    Celeste nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” She tried to sound calm, but as she got up to follow me, she kept her head lowered and her shoulders were still stiff with tension.
    I led Celeste along the side of the room, staying close to the trees as much as possible, and into the immense, steamy kitchen. Like broken-field runners, we rushed through the maze of stoves and sinks, dodging chefs and sous-chefs, ignoring their angry shouts. Finally we were out the exit and into the alley. Celeste was in such a panic I don’t think she noticed the smell of garbage arising from the trash bins. A few more yards and we’d reached the street behind the hotel, where we filled our lungs with reasonably fresh air.
    Liddy’s ivory Range Rover rounded the corner of Oak Drive and stopped next to us.
    Climbing into the front seat, I said, “We didn’t get any lunch. I’m hungry.”
    “Me, too,” Liddy said. “Since we’re all dressed up, let’s go have cheese soufflés at the Polo Lounge.”
    From the backseat, Celeste said with a petulant whine, “I don’t want to go anywhere I could be seen by Mummy and Freddie. Remember, I’m supposed to be at Disneyland.”
    “All right,” Liddy said. “If you need to hide out until it’s time to go to your father’s, our house is the perfect place. My housekeeper will fix us something. It’s such a nice day we can have lunch out by the pool.”
    “I just want some distilled water,” Celeste said. “Daddy makes me eat when we’re together.” She shuddered. “I think food is gross.”
    Oh, great. I won’t be able to cook my way to her heart.
    But after that moment of mental sarcasm, I wondered if she had an eating disorder. While she was very slim, as far as I could tell she seemed healthy. Her color was good. She didn’t look anorexic, but next time we were together at a meal, and she ate, I’d pay attention to how quickly she hurried off to the nearest bathroom. I couldn’t help wanting to protect Nicholas’s daughter, even if it was from herself.

    Liddy and Bill Marshall’s home was a stately two-story white colonial in the seven hundred block of Maple Drive, my