Unknown - 19_Cat_In_A_Red_Hot_Rage

She appreciated Electra’s free spirit even more after a few heart-to-hearts with her aunt.

She appreciated the landlady’s tropical muumuus color-coordinated to the temporary dyes she sprayed onto her halo of springy white hair. The wedding chapel business she ran out of the Circle Ritz. Being game to hop on a motorcycle at her age, wearing a helmet that proclaimed “Speed Queen.” Her warm and lively interest in all her tenants, including Matt’s emergence from ex-priest to buff boy about town. All were part of the Circle Ritz mystique, and Electra Lark was its resident fairy godmother.

No way would this lady off somebody. Of course, such a conviction would never stand up in court, so Temple would have to see that it never got that far.

As she came even with the silhouettes of Alch and Su, she noticed with astonishment that Electra’s hair was all-over purple. An ex-undercover girl in honey-bunnie blond shade number 43 was hardly one to criticize.

“Electra!” Temple said, to let her know she had backup.

The face that turned to her, usually haloed with good cheer and motherly encouragement, suddenly looked pale, aged, drained.

“Temple! Thank God you’ve come.”

“Just what do you think she can do for you?” Su asked.

Su was a tiny Asian-American woman not much older than Temple who managed to convey Green Giant–size competency. Temple supposed that was from being a little woman in a big man’s profession.

“Can we talk?” Temple asked the detectives, moving away from the windows.

They followed her out of Electra’s hearing range.

“I know this woman,” Temple said. “She’s not a killer.”

“Neither are most of us,” Su pointed out, “until something pushes us over the edge.”

Morrie Alch, a teddy bear of a homicide detective with nicely polished claws, was staying out of it. Women’s business.

“At least you can tell me why Electra’s being questioned,” Temple said.

“We don’t have to tell you anything,” Su said, close to a sneer. It must have chapped Su’s chopsticks that her boss, Lieutenant C. R. Molina, had sent Temple undercover as a teenager at the recent Teen Queen Idol reality TV show set, instead of her.

Competing guys were standard police issue, but dueling gals could be meaner.

“Okay, ladies.” Alch puckered his lips judiciously. “Miss Barr might get something we can’t out of the … suspect. The lieutenant would like that.”

“And then,” Temple said, “I’d like you to let Electra go about her business.”

“Not!” Su.

Alch frowned.

“I bet you couldn’t pry her away from this convention:’ Temple argued. “She’s volunteered to set things up. And she wouldn’t leave Las Vegas. She runs two local businesses. She has local people like me to look out for her. Simply being found near a dead body would have had me in lockup numerous times.”

“Should have,” Su said.

“Lighten up, ladies,” Alch said. While they were both scowling at him for that method of address, his palms lifted in a peace gesture.

“We have grounds for holding Mrs. Lark:’ he told Temple, dead serious. “But not enough. I’ve checked with Molina. She’s not ready to bring Mrs. Lark in for questioning on the evidence so far. So, you can take her outta here when you go, or put her back with the other birds of a feather.”

Su glared at him with soundless fury, but Alch gave her A Look. He gave Temple another one. “I’m going to let you take her out of here, but that’s not an irreversible option. And anything of interest she tells you, you tell us. Right?”

“Absolutely, Detective Alch.”

Su snorted.

Molina had okayed Temple’s custody of Electra? What was the Iron Maiden of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department up to?

That’s what Nicky and Van and Aldo and Kit wanted to know as Temple retreated to their position by the long Italian leather sofa against the wall.

“What’s the deal?” Nicky asked in a whisper.

“I get to talk to Electra, and take her out of here if she doesn’t do something foolish and confess.”

“Great, but why?” Aldo wanted to know. “The cops never back off unless they have to.”

“Not enough evidence to hold her,” Temple said. “I think. Maybe they’re just giving her enough rope.”

“We don’t want this case dragging on any more than they do:’ Van said.

Nicky winked at Temple. “She’s saying you better solve this one for the cops. Get them out of our hair. Out of her vanilla-smooth French twist.” Nicky ran teasing fingers into it, making Van’s eyes glare steel-blue. She shook him loose.

Not many people knew “Van” was short for “Vanilla.” Temple did.

Van smoothed her hair back into place. “Do whatever you can, Temple, to cool down this situation.”

“Right.” First, she had to find out from Electra what was really going on.

“I’m lucky I got them to cut you loose:’ Temple whispered as she settled beside Electra on the cushy leather sofa. Electra clasped her hand with matronly zest.

“So nice to see you here, dear. Who gave you permission? Was it that nice Detective Alch?” Electra whispered, glancing coyly at the fiftyish detective.

“Yeah. Luckily, Morrie likes to pull Su’s chain.”

“Morrie. Such a cute name. Do you think he’s married?”

“I think he’s fifteen years younger than you are, Electra.”

“Just right. Boy-toy age for me.”

Temple sighed. “Electra, why are they holding you for questioning? Who died here?”

“It’s so silly, Temple. You know me. Always eager to help. I volunteered to set things up before the convention—”

“You mean that wave of purple and red in the lobby is just the advance troops?”

“Heavens, yes! We’ll soon have five thousand Red Hatters in town, splitting up between the Crystal Phoenix and the Goliath.

We have several hundred here now to help with setup. My Red-Hatted League is one of the local chapters.”

“So that’s why you’re here. And you are being questioned by the police because—?”

“There was this Pink Lady—”

“Not a drink.”

“No! Girly cocktails are so passé now. They really knock back those martinis on Sex in the City.”

“That’s Sex and the City and it’s in reruns now, Electra. Not hot. Speaking of hot, just how many Red Hat Sisterhood members live in Vegas?”

“I don’t know. The Las Vegas area has more than one hundred chapters with up to forty-some members, and that’s who’s here setting up.”

“Yowie. That alone almost makes five thousand! How did a local PR ace like me miss knowing about all of them?”

“Not everyone is helping with setup. And you’re too young to be a Red Hatter, which is age fifty and over, just like AARP. Although you could be a Pink Lady, dear.”

“Since they appear to have a short life span, maybe not. And a Pink Lady is—”

“A memberin-waiting to turn the golden age of fifty and be eligible for the Red Hat, kind of like a cardinal in the Roman Catholic Church, don’t you know? They never let anybody too young into the full sisterhood; it might upset the applecart.”

“Or lead to murder?”

“No, it’s just that the Red Hat Sisterhood is one of the few things in life that older ladies can call their very own. Whatever. I was just trying to help out that helpless Pink Lady. She’d fallen facedown, I’d thought. I didn’t know she’d been strangled. A lot of us wear scarves and boas to hide the jowls, you know.” Electra patted at the scarlet feathers making her face into an island without a telltale neck.

“Okay. Which Pink Lady?”

Electra’s voice and expression hardened. Temple was glad Su and Alch were out of earshot. “Just some bimbo, dearie, who maybe wished she was old enough to be a real Red Hat Sister.”