Read Bell, Book, and Scandal Online

Authors: Jill Churchill

Tags: #det_irony

Bell, Book, and Scandal (2 page)

The tow truck driver looked at her as if she were slightly mad.
Shelley, having heard the noise, came to her kitchen door in her jeans with an apron over a T-shirt. She looked out for a second, then disappeared.
By the time the station wagon was gone, Shelley had reappeared looking as if she'd just come

 

from a beauty shop and stopped off at a very expensive dress shop.
"Why are you dressed so well?" Jane asked. "Because this is what I wore last night to one of Paul's dinners for his employees. It was the clos-
est thing at hand. Where's your car going? What's wrong with it now?"

 

"Nearly everything's wrong with it. I'm donating it to a charity"

 

"What? Somebody wants that car?"
Jane felt herself very nearly tearing up. "I think
they're probably having it gutted and crushed. So they can sell the metal as scrap."
"Jane, it's a vehicle. Not a person."
"I know that, Shelley. I'm also having a new

 

driveway put in and acquiring a new friend." "A new friend?"
'A Jeep. You're too dressed up to go with me. Change your clothes to 'business casual' as they're calling it in the ads on television. We have an appointment to buy the car this afternoon at

 

two-thirty. Would you drive me? I have no wheels of my own."

 

"A Jeep? Good idea. One of those really big ones, right?"

 

"No. It's a new, smaller one called a Liberty." "How did you find out about it?" Shelley asked
as Jane trailed along while Shelley headed for her own kitchen door.

 

"I looked it up on the Internet. Called Mike after he got out of his nine o'clock class at college andasked him a few questions about what I needed for choices. Boys in their twenties always know this stuff and love showing off about how much they know. Then I called several dealerships to find out if they had what I wanted. Fortunately, the closest one to our neighborhood did."
"Start us a pot of coffee while I change, please,"
Shelley said.
The coffee was poured and Jane had found some stale vanilla wafers to snack on.
"What color are you choosing?" Shelley asked when she came back in black silk trousers, low-heeled gray patent heels, and a white linen blouse with a gorgeous scarf draped to perfection.
"Red. But only if I like it when I see it. Maybe taupe. They have both options with what I want on the lot."
"What did Mike say?"
"After he screamed 'Whoopee!' you mean?" Jane replied. "He told me to pick a certain kind of brakes. I've got it all marked out on the sheet I printed out. Heated leather seats. A sunroof. Fancy tires. A CD player and tape player both. The best that they've got at the dealership."
"Jane, you amaze me!"
"Why?"
"Because you've always been so stingy with yourself. First that big television set in your bedroom, now an expensive new car. I can hardly believe it. Good for you."

 

"For one thing, it isn't as expensive as you're

 

imagining. Not even close to the cost of a Humvee, which I almost considered until I found out the price. I would look so good driving a Humvee.
"Secondly," Jane went on, "it would have cost several thousand to fix up the old station wagon, and it wouldn't add anything to its trade-in value. I donated because I can take the book value off my taxes, and that's a lot more than it would be worth if I turned it in. And I'd be deeply embarrassed to let a car dealer even see it."
"How did you learn all about this?"
"I have my sources," Jane said smugly. "You're turning into me, you know."
"That's a good thing," Jane said. "But I'll never spend what you do on your wardrobe, I can promise that," she added with a smile. She glanced at her watch. "It's only twelve-fifteen. My appointment to buy the car isn't until two-thirty. I have to go to the bank first to buy a certified check. What else can we do to kill time?"
"We can go look at your list and check the site on the Internet for color choices. Wouldn't you rather have a nice bright green or maybe a white one? Or even that cobalt blue color you like?"
"White would glare in the sun and always look dirtier than it really is. They don't have a bright green. Only a dark green."
"Go for the red then. Taupe is only good for clothing. But you'll have to see it in person to de-cide. I sort of liked that shiny blue one. But colors on the Internet aren't all that reliable."
"As long as I wouldn't have to wait for it, I might buy the blue," Jane said. "I don't want to waste a month or six weeks to special order and drive a rental. Let's go have lunch before we go to the bank. Those soggy wafers aren't enough to fortify me for such a big decision."
Later, fortified by a sandwich and caffeine, Jane had her check in her purse, and when they arrived at the car dealership a full twenty-five minutes early, Jane began dragging Shelley around the entire lot looking for her choices. She was reading the sales slip on the window of a metallic blue car when Shelley said, "I see your car, I think. Come this way."
And there, in its full glory, was the car Jane wanted. "It doesn't look dark red," Shelley said, "It has too much purple in the red."
"It's called garnet," Jane said. "Not dark red. And I don't think it's the least purple. It must just be these weird pole lights that make it look odd. It's a shame it's such an overcast day. I still want to look at the taupe. It's the color of the interior of
this one."
"Can't we just go inside and see if your salesman is twiddling his thumbs waiting for us to
show up?"
"What a good idea."
"You do know, don't you, Jane, that I'm not

 

good with car salesmen? I always want to tell them off for treating me like 'the little woman' who doesn't know a car from a dishwasher."
"Then don't speak at all and let me sort him out," Jane said. "I Am Woman."
As much as she wanted to dislike the salesman, Shelley couldn't. There wasn't a hint of patronizing. He was even impressed by Jane's computer printout of her shopping on the Internet and the fact that she had brought it along to show him what she wanted. When he went to fetch some paperwork, Shelley admitted he was treating them well.
"He doesn't know I have a son who told me exactly what to choose. He thinks I know all about these brakes I've selected."
Both of them got impatient with how long it was taking, however. There was a guy Jane had to talk to about an expensive extended warranty, and she was ready for this as well, thanks to her son. A third man wanted to sell her a package of expensive extra things, like a sealer to prevent rust and a lot of other stuff she hadn't been warned about. The total for the extras came to nearly a thousand dollars.

 

"I think not," Jane said firmly.
"But if you buy the whole package, it's only three hundred dollars," he said.
"I'll think about it and let you know while they're bringing my car to the door," Jane said. "That's insane!" Shelley hissed when they wereout of his hearing range. "Each part of the deal cost nearly the three hundred. Does he think we're idiots who can't add it up?"

 

"He's young and stupid and we're probably older than his mother," Jane said. "I might spring for the three hundred bucks. But I'm not doing it until I've driven the car for a while."
In the end, the salesman made Jane drive the car with him in the passenger seat and Shelley in the backseat. He was pointing out where all the features were, which disconcerted Jane, although she thought he didn't know he was frazzling her.
When he said, "This handle turns the windshield wipers on," she glanced down very briefly at a stick that said "Pull." She tried pulling out the end knob. He said, "No, that means pull it

 

toward you."
"Oh, of course."

 

There was a low growl from the backseat, which Jane ignored.
When the test drive was over, the forms all filled out, the check approved, the temporary license plate in place, and everybody had shaken hands in a distinctly "manly" way, Shelley said, "I wish we'd taken a cab so I could ride home with you."
"Have you ever seen a cab just cruising our street? And would you have paid him to sit around when we stoked up on sandwiches and coffee? And then run us to the bank?"

 

"I guess you're right."

 

"We'll take a nice long drive when we've stopped by home," Jane said. "By the way, I'm never going to smoke in this car or let anyone else

 

do so. I've made a vow that it's not going to lose its new car smell ever."
"I've never seen you smoke in the station wagon."

 

"That's because I only smoke three cigarettes a day, and sometimes only one or none if I'm really busy and forget. But I have on occasion opened

 

the window while I was waiting on carpool kids and stunk it up."
She went on, "Where shall we take our drive after we drop your car off?"
Shelley said, "Shopping. Anywhere
except
the grocery store."

 

Three

 

Jane really wanted
to go to the courthouse to
have
her temporary license plate changed over to a real official plate for her new car. But going there was never a fun thing to do. Her memory, so long ago when she bought the station wagon, was a bad one of surly crowds, disobedient children running wild in the corridors, and having to return two times because the clerk said she didn't have something she needed in the way of paperwork.

 

"How long had you had the station wagon?" Shelley asked.

 

"I can't remember. I had to turn over the title to the man who took it away, and I forgot to look at how old it was. I think I had it for at least twelve years."
"I'll bet it was longer than that."
"You might be right. Where shall we go?"
Jane wanted to do something fun and so did Shelley. Shelley was already calling on her cell phone before they'd gone a block. "May I speak to the manager, please?"
After a moment or two of silence, she introduced herself and said, "Oh, John. I'm so glad you're the one on duty. Is the Nowack suite open now? I want to show it to my friend who's staying with me in it for a couple of days." Another silence. "Oh, good! We're on our way."
"What a good idea," Jane said, turning left at the next intersection.
She was uneasy about parking in the hotel lot next to someone who might bang his door into her brand-new car. She parked as far away as she could, where there weren't other vehicles.
Shelley knew why she was doing this, and for once kept silent.
They got out and Jane fumbled for a moment with the gadget they'd given her to lock the doors. She was surprised the car made a pitiful little beep and the lights flashed briefly when she pressed the lock key. "That's neat, isn't it? It's telling me it's worked. I wonder if it'll do it when I unlock it as well."

 

"Jane, stop playing with your car and come inside," Shelley ordered impatiently.

 

It was a very long walk and Jane kept looking back at her car, thinking the thing she liked best about it was the big round headlights. So retro. So 1930s. So pretty. She could have driven it around Gosford Park and felt right at home. But she'd yet to drive in the dark and would have to read the manual to figure out how to turn on the lights.

 

"Isn't it a gorgeous lobby?" Shelley exclaimed

 

when they walked into the hotel, as if she'd designed it herself. "Jane, pay attention. Forget the Jeep for a bit."
It was a great lobby. It was enormous, but cozy at the same time. In spite of vast expanses of marble flooring, covered with what one could mistake for real Oriental rugs, it had lots of comfy seating areas where you could have a private discussion with friends without anybody overhearing you — unless you were yelling.
"This is really luxurious. Look at these floors. Some of it has fossils, doesn't it?"
"I think your imagination is in overdrive," Shelley said, dragging her along to the check-in desk, which looked as if it were a huge piece of furniture from a very old castle, except that it was too clean and shiny.
"Mrs. Nowack," the manager said. "That was
fast."
"We're in my friend's new car. This is Mrs. Jeffry, my roommate when we come to the mystery conference."
The manager knew which side his bread was buttered on and studied Jane for a moment, clearly noting her and memorizing her name.
"I'll escort you ladies upstairs."
"No need," Shelley said. "I've been here often enough to find it myself. Just loan me a key."
She led Jane to the most magnificent elevator she'd ever seen. Almost the size of a large room, it was mirrored with dark green glass with a
touch of gold, with light green marble in narrow stripes between the mirrors. It had a lush carpet, and there was even a little plush bench you could sit on.
"I could park my car in this elevator," Jane said.
"Not today, please," Shelley said, pushing the button for the top floor. The elevator ascended in absolute silence.
They stepped out into a very wide hallway. This floor was inlaid with marble as well, this time an off-white with brown speckles. The same quality of runners ran down the middle as the ones in the lobby. It was well lit with lovely lily-like sconces in pinky-mauve glass that were set next to each door.
They headed left to the far end and Shelley inserted the plastic credit-card-like key. "Voilà!" she said, pushing Jane ahead of her.
Jane gasped. She thought the room was the most beautiful place she'd ever seen. Colorful without being gaudy. They'd come first into an enormous parlor with a big dining room table at one end with eight Windsor shield-back chairs. There was a matching server bureau with a fabulous floral arrangement of real flowers. The air in the room was lightly scented by the roses.

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