I've Got You Under My Skin

29

When Claire got back to the hotel, the first thing she did was to put a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door, then rush to wash her face.

All the carefully applied makeup vanished into the soapy washcloth as she checked and rechecked to be sure that every vestige of it was gone. Well, it served its purpose, she thought. I saw the look on all their faces, especially Rob Powell’s, when they saw me. I’m not sure whether Nina pulled that faint or if it was genuine. She was a pretty good actress, even if she never did make it big.

But I think she upstaged Daddy Rob. He was just about to faint himself before she beat him to it. Well, didn’t he used to brag that in high school he was voted best actor in the senior play? And he’s perfected his act since then.

Nina could see the look of disappointment on her mother’s face when Rob didn’t extend an invitation to dinner. But in the car Muriel pointed out that he had referred more than once to the good times they had had together. That much is true, Nina acknowledged to herself.

As they got off the elevator in the hotel, Muriel asked, “Did you see the chandelier? It must be worth forty thousand dollars.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw one like it when we were in Venice for background scenes.”

Fitting, Nina thought. Now, as an actress, you’re in the background again.

“Did you see how that housekeeper acted as if we were a bunch of intruders?”

“Mom, I remember her from the time when we were growing up. Jane always looked as if she disapproved of everyone except Betsy.” Nina hesitated, then added sarcastically, “I mean ‘Mrs. Powell.’ That’s what Jane was forced to call her, even though they’d worked together for years.”

“Well, I certainly would have made her call me ‘Mrs. Powell’ instead of Muriel,” her mother snapped. “If I had married Rob.”

“I’m going to my room. I’ll have dinner served there,” Nina replied, rolling her eyes to heaven. As she walked rapidly away from Muriel, she thought, the greatest gift you ever received was that Betsy was out of your way, but even though you called Rob Powell any number of times after she died, he didn’t want to see you again. And now it’s obvious to me that he’s just toying with you.

Will you ever learn?

Regina was barely in her hotel when she received a telephone call from Zach from London. He got directly to the point.

“Mom, please be honest, did you bring that letter with you?”

Regina knew there was no use in lying.

“Yes, I did. I’m sorry, Zach. I lied to you because I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Then, Mom, I have to tell you. I destroyed the copy you had. I’ve been wanting to tear that letter up ever since you told me about it. I would have torn up the original, too, but I couldn’t find where you put it.”

“Zach, it’s okay. I know you’re right and after this week, I will destroy it. Or if you want, I’ll let you burn it. That’s a promise.”

“Awesome, Mom, I’ll hold you to that.”

They both said, “I love you,” then said good-bye.

Regina raced to the dresser where she’d left her pocketbook, opened it, and with trembling fingers reached for her wallet. She had known when she arrived at the Powell estate that she should not have carried the letter with her.

She opened the secret flap in her wallet where she had carefully folded the letter.

It was empty.

Whoever had taken it must have suspected she might be carrying something important, or else had gone through all the pocketbooks that had been left on the patio table for the same reason.

And the letter provided the perfect reason for her to have murdered Betsy.

Frantically she dumped her pocketbook on the table and rummaged through the contents, hoping against hope that somehow she would find it. But it was not there.