Deadly Appraisal

Chapter One "So," Detective Rowcliff asked, "did you kill her?" My lips parted, but no words came. I'd seen poor little mousy Maisy Gaylor collapse and die at tonight's Gala, and the horror of it was with me still. "What are you saying?" I managed. "Didn't she have a heart attack? Or a stroke? Or something?" "Probably not." "What do you mean?" I asked, confused and frightened. "Let's stay on track here," he said impatiently, ignoring my question, his foot rat-a-tatting a staccato beat. "Did you kill her?" "No, of course not," I said. "My God, no." He stared at me, his eyes boring into mine. "Tell me what you saw," he said coldly. I was so scared, I could barely breathe. I glanced away, then back at him, hoping for some sign of empathy or understanding. There was none. "What do you want to know?" I asked. "How did Maisy end up onstage?" I shut my eyes, letting the picture come. My company's auction hall was decorated to the teeth in honor of the Portsmouth Women's Guild's Annual Black and Gold Gala. Even the banner stretched high over the stage was color-matchedthe words prescott's welcomes you were stamped in gold on a black silk background. Dimmed chandeliers and wall sconces cast a soft glow and scores of candles flickered in tall crystal holders. Gilt-edged dishes, polished silver, and etched glasses gleamed in the amber light. We were ready to go by six and guests started arriving about six thirty. By seven, clusters of people stood in small groupings near the antiques display. A brass quartet played classical music softly in the corner. Glasses clinked and people laughed. All around me, chitchat undulated in the background. Most of the women wore all-black gowns, but several twinkled in black with gold sequins or metallic beads. All of the male guests wore black tie, and to keep to the black-and-gold color scheme, my male staff wore black suits with gold ties and the females, me included, wore long black skirts with gold silk jerseys. A tuxedoed waiter passed by and I snared a flute of champagne. I scanned the room, seeking out people I hadn't yet met and trying hard to remember the names of those I had. Just before we were called to sit for dinner, Maisy Gaylor, the Portsmouth Women's Guild's representative, approached me, grinning like a girl. She was wearing a fitted black dress, snug and cut lowan uncharacteristically sexy look for the normally all-business professional woman. "Oh, Josie," she exclaimed, playfully grasping my arm. "We did it! All these weeks planning and working, and here we are! Aren't you just so excited?" "Absolutely!" I agreed, smiling, her enthusiasm contagious. "Oh, look! There's Britt!" Maisy flitted away in Britt's direction. Britt Epps, the honorary chair of the Gala and the most influential lawyer in town, was looking downright dapper, his bulk well disguised in a custom-made tuxedo. I watched as they air-kissed. Later, after I'd greetedCleland, Jane K. is the author of 'Deadly Appraisal', published 2008 under ISBN 9780312373337 and ISBN 0312373333.