Page 51 of The Perfect People

“I do,” he said, “and I have to tell you something—ladies, you’re not dressed for it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

“You’ve got to be loving this,” Jessie muttered under her breath.

She didn’t even need to wait for Susannah to reply to know the answer, but she got one anyway.

“I’m nothatingit,” her partner said, flashing a mega-watt smile as they passed the horde of people milling outside Daphne Klein’s house and entered her expansive front yard. Mixed in among the crowd they left behind were two news crews, one from a local station and another from a national sports network. While reporters and producers from both outlets eyed Jessie and Susannah closely as they went by, no one said anything to them.

That might have been because of how they were dressed. Like everyone else at the party, they were in costumes, as if they were attending a Halloween party in early September. According to Curly Duff, that was Daphne Klein’s thing, which was part of what made her bash an “It” party. But these weren’t standard costumes. Because of the stifling heat and the beach locale, guests were expected to wear more revealing outfits.

That’s why Jessie—in defiance of every fiber of her being—had made a last-second stop at a sportswear shop and picked out a halter tennis dress with an apricot-colored bodice. The outfit wasn’t really a costume, but with the way it hugged her so tightly from the waist up and cut off near the top of her thighs, it sure felt like one.

Then again, that was the point—to look completely different than she normally would, partly to fit in at the party, but also to avoid detection by the media. To further that latter goal, after getting her outfit, she’d joined Susannah at a costume shop, where she’d bought a blonde wig, which was currently resting on her head, tied in a ponytail, so the long hair wouldn’t get in her way if she got in either a long rally at the net or a knock-down, drag-out fight with a murderer.

Susannah, as Jessie had predicted, had embraced the assignment. At the costume shop, she found an outfit that seemed tailor-made for her. It was a naughty cop costume, complete with a police cap, a navy, buttoned cropped top, and a miniskirt, which likely made her one of the few law enforcement officers currently operating with a bare midriff. Cleverly, the outfit also allowed her to wear her holster and real gun without it seeming strange, although she did remove the clip, just in case some drunk idiot tried to grab for it.

“I feel ridiculous,” Jessie whispered just after nine, as they walked through the main doors of the enormous beachfront home and into the cavernous front room, which was filled with dozens of people.

“Well, you look fabulous,” Susannah assured her while they slithered through the dancing throngs, until they finally found an open space near the fireplace. “The key is to believe you are and everyone else will too. Besides, look around. You can’t tell me you feelthatridiculous.”

Jessie had to admit that she had a point. Just like the two of them, most people here had committed to the bit. Some were simply wearing conventional swimwear, but others had gone all out. Two young ladies nearby had created handmade, barely-there bikinis out of seashells. Another woman had wrapped herself in rainbow streamers that were covering a solid five percent of her body. An attractive couple walked by, wearing only diapers and matching sashes that read respectively “Mr. South Bay” and “Miss South Bay.” A man dancing on the second-floor balcony appeared to be covered in gold paint, a well-placed sock, and nothing else.

“I’m just going to look at it as an undercover assignment,” Jessie said. “Incredibly, in this environment, wearing this outfit will draw less attention than my normal clothes would, so I can watch everyone without seeming suspicious.”

“I know you’ve secretly been dying to pour yourself into a getup like that, Hunt,” Susannah teased. “But whatever justification gets you through the night.”

Just then, two guys in their early twenties adorned uncreatively in swim trunks and neckties came over.

“Can I get you ladies a drink?” the taller of the two asked them.

“Thanks, but we’re good for now,” Jessie told him.

“Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look like that tennis player, Maria Sharapova?” the shorter guy asked. “You’re not really her, are you?”

Jessie looked over at Susannah, who was smirking because on the way over, she’d predicted that someone would make that exact comparison. The urge to offer a snarky comeback was huge but she fought it off. Creating even a small scene was the last thing she wanted right now.

“No, but thank you,” she said with a sweet smile.

“Actually,” Susannah said, “now that you mention it, some drinks sound great. It’s getting pretty hot in here. I saw that there’s a bar toward the back. Could you guys get us some mojitos?”

“Yes ma’am, officer!” the taller guy said, saluting. “Whatever you say. I don’t want to disappoint you and make you take me in. Or maybe I do.”

Susannah giggled as she tossed her hair back, then gave him a coy smile.

“I guess it all depends on the quality of those drinks, young man,” she said. “Better get to it.”

The guys scurried off enthusiastically.

“That ought to keep them busy for a while,” Susannah said, shifting back to her normal voice. “The line at the bar is excruciatingly long.”

“You’re scarily good at turning that flirty girl thing on and off,” Jessie said.

“Survival technique,” the detective said wearily. “Do we want to do a lap around the house to see if anyone leaps out at us before we call Daphne down here?”

“Good idea,” Jessie agreed.

Because Curly Duff knew everyone in town, he’d called Daphne Klein earlier that evening and put her on the phone with Jessie and Susannah. Klein was the socialite wife of a big-time Hollywood studio executive. They explained their concerns and suggested she cancel the party. After she finished laughing at them, they all came to a compromise: Daphne would remain upstairs with friends until the two of them arrived around nine. Based on the prior attacks, it seemed unlikely that the killer would show up that early. After they got to the house and gave her the go-ahead to come downstairs, they’d stay discreetly close to her for the rest of the night.

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