Excerpt from Swell Time for a Swing Dance
While the security
guards rushed out, Nana glided back into the room, with her long gown flowing
across the floor, giving the appearance that she was floating on a cloud.
Ethel’s eyes went wide
when she saw her, and clearly she wasn’t about to let such a well-timed
opportunity go to waste. She sucked in air, ready for another tirade, and then
let it rip.
Hands on hips, she
turned to face Nana. “Well, well, well, who do we have here? Why, if it isn’t
Caroline Truworth! Let me guess, you were practically all by yourself
downstairs, weren’t you?”
Nana did a little
curtsy. “And what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”
Ethel raised one arm
up with a flourish, while she extended the other arm and pointed directly at
Nana, in a position that reminded me of Errol Flynn about to engage in a movie
sword fight. “Precisely what were you doing downstairs?”
Nana put a hand on
her hip. “I was calling a lawyer for Pete Stalwart. You remember Pete, don’t
you? He’s the young man you wrongfully accused of committing murder! The
wonderful young gentleman whom you had hauled away by your police friend.”
“I was only doing my
civic duty, by saving our city from a murderer,” Ethel scoffed. “As for you,
the only place you could have used a telephone was in the office. And while you
were there, you easily could have taken the key to the cabinet that held the
statuette that was stolen. So obviously, you must be the one who stole that
priceless piece! You and your kind are a menace!”
Nana offered a smug
smile. “I’m a menace? I’m not the person having a temper tantrum in the middle
of the room while falsely accusing people of crimes. I hear the Nazis are very
fond of such tactics. There’s no need for you to start that sort of thing over here
in America.”
Right about then,
Ethel’s face turned a shade of red I’ve never seen before on a human being.
“How . . . dare . . . you!” she spewed forth, once again reminding me of a
fire-breathing dragon.
Sammy rushed to
Nana’s side and flashed his P.I. license to Ethel. “Why don’t you simmer down,
Mrs. Barton. I would be happy to help you find whatever you believe is
missing.”
“Missing? Hardly!”
she cried out. “It’s been stolen, and we have been robbed! And I would never
allow you, of all people, to help. I’ve seen what your kind can do. You were
with that young man who is a murderer, so I would never trust you or any of
your party to assist in solving a crime of this magnitude.”
At that moment, I
figured it might be a good idea if I joined forces with Sammy and Nana. So I
patted Dot’s arm and told her I’d be back. Then I took off across the floor and
slipped in behind Nana, putting a hand on her waist.
Sammy chuckled under
his breath. “Come now, Mrs. Barton. People misplace things all the time. Mind
telling me what is missing? And what
makes you think anything was stolen
at all?”
Ethel sputtered for a
moment. “Are you a complete imbecile? The burglary is as obvious as that thing
on your face that you call a nose! There was a Greek statuette in a display
case downstairs, one that stood in the middle of the room. And now that case is
empty.”
Come back tomorrow and read about author Cindy Vincent's fascination with the forties!
Thanks for posting this, Julie! I have to say, Ethel turned out to be one of my most favorite characters to write. She is so over-the-top and almost as comical to me as she is sinister. She may make another appearance in a later book in this series. ;)
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