“Join the party. Such as it is. Dana Steele, and my equally baffled companion this evening, Malory Price.”
“I’m Zoe. McCourt.” She took another cautious step into the room, as if she was waiting for someone to tell her there’d been a mistake and boot her out again. “Holy cow. This place, it’s like a movie. It’s, um, beautiful and all, but I keep expecting that scary guy in the smoking jacket to come in.”
“Vincent Price? No relation,” Malory said with a grin. “I take it you don’t know any more about what’s going on than we do.”
“No. I think I got invited by mistake, but—” She broke off, ogling a bit when a servant entered with another flute on a tray. “Ah . . . thanks.” She took the crystal gingerly, then just smiled down at the bubbling wine. “Champagne. It has to be a mistake. But I couldn’
t pass up the chance to come. Where is everybody else?”
“Good question.” Dana angled her head, charmed and amused as Zoe took a small, testing sip of champagne. “Are you from the Valley?”
“Yes. Well, for the last couple years.”
“Three for three,” Malory murmured. “Do you know anyone else who got an invitation for tonight?”
“No. In fact, I asked around, which is probably why I got fired today. Is that food just to take?”
“You got fired?” Malory exchanged a look with Dana. “Three for three.”
“Carly—she owns the salon where I work. Worked,” Zoe corrected herself and walked toward a tray of canapés. “She heard me talking about it with one of my customers and got bent out of shape. Boy, these are terrific.”
Her voice had lost its breathiness now, and as she appeared to relax, Malory detected the faintest hint of twang.
“Anyway, Carly’s been gunning for me for months. I guess the invite, seeing as she didn’t get one, put her nose out of joint. Next thing I know, she’s saying there’s twenty missing from the till. I never stole anything in my life. Bitch.”
She took another, more enthusiastic gulp of champagne. “And then bam! I’m out on my ear. Doesn’t matter. It’s not going to matter. I’ll get another job. I hated working there anyway. God.”
It mattered, Malory thought. The sparkle in Zoe’s eyes that had as much fear to it as anger said it mattered a great deal. “You’re a hairdresser.”
“Yeah. Hair and skin consultant, if you want to get snooty. I’m not the type who gets invited to fancy parties at fancy places, so I guess it’s a mistake.”
Considering, Malory shook her head. “I don’t think someone like Rowena makes mistakes. Ever.”
“Well, I don’t know. I wasn’t going to come, then I thought it would cheer me up. Then my car wouldn’t start, again. I had to borrow the baby-sitter’s.”
“You have a baby?” Dana asked.
“He’s not a baby anymore. Simon’s nine. He’s great. I wouldn’t worry about the job, but I’ve got a kid to support. And I didn’t steal any goddamn twenty dollars—or twenty cents, for that matter. I’m not a thief.”
She caught herself, flushed scarlet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Bubbles loosening my tongue, I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dana rubbed a hand up and down Zoe’s arm. “You want to hear something strange? My job, and my paycheck, just got cut to the bone. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. And Malory thinks she’s about to get the axe at her job.”
“Really?” Zoe looked from one face to the other. “That’s just weird.”
“And nobody we know was invited here tonight.” With a wary glance toward the doorway, Malory lowered her voice. “From the looks of things, we’re it.”
“I’m a librarian, you’re a hairdresser, she runs an art gallery. What do we have in common?”
“We’re all out of work.” Malory frowned. “Or the next thing to it. That alone is strange when you consider the Valley’s got a population of about five thousand. What are the odds of three women hitting a professional wall the same day in the same little town? Next, we’re all from the Valley. We’re all female, about the same age? Twenty-eight.”
“Twenty-seven,” Dana said.
“Twenty-six—twenty-seven in December.” Zoe shivered. “This is just too strange.” Her eyes widened as she looked at her half-empty glass, and she set it hastily aside. “You don’t think there’s anything in there that shouldn’t be, do you?”
“I don’t think we’re going to be drugged and sold into white slavery.” Dana’s tone was dry, but she set her glass down as well. “People know we’re here, right? My brother knows where I am, and people at work.”
“My boss, his wife. Your ex-boss,” Malory said to Zoe. “Your baby-sitter. Anyway, this is Pennsylvania, for God’s sake, not, I don’t know, Zimbabwe.”