Chapter 9: The Engagement Party

Adelaide's drawing room held sixty people and a harp.

I stood by the fireplace in a borrowed blue dress with Jasper's hand at my back and Pickle asleep on my feet.

The board was there, and half the Holloway family, and strangers with champagne glasses who all wanted to touch my ring.

Leopold moved among them, patting arms.

I noted the guests and the exits.

Then I saw Lyle in the doorway, in a suit I had never seen.

My work friend stood behind him, pale as paper, with her hands clasped in front of her.

Lyle tapped his glass with a spoon, and the room went quiet.

"I'd like to say a few words," he said, "on behalf of Dinah's friends."

"You're not my friend," I said.

Somebody laughed nervously.

"I was her boyfriend for three years," Lyle said. "And I think the room should know what it's celebrating."

Jasper's hand pressed harder against my back.

"Last Monday Dinah told me she was dying," Lyle said. "Terminal, she said. Months to live."

A murmur went through the room.

"By Tuesday she was engaged to a billionaire."

Now the murmur turned into a sound.

"I'm not saying she's lying about everything."

"But she was told to go to St. Anne's on Wednesday for a biopsy, to confirm it. She didn't go."

I felt the blood leave my face.

"Ask her where the report is," Lyle said. "Ask what kind of dying woman skips the test."

"This is a shocking thing to raise," Leopold said, stepping forward with his hands out.

"But I confess, I made a quiet inquiry out of concern for my nephew."

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