“I remembered the flippant, vivacious girl at the Tea Shoppe. I remembered her saucy mannerisms and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. There had been an affinity between us at once, and I had warmed to her immediately. I remembered the cheap makeup and the junky jewelry, the dime-store perfume and the artificial black hair. Of course it had been Delia. I could see that now, so clearly. How delighted she must have been to be able to fool me with her blatant masquerade. “Delia is alive—” “Very m...uch so. Full of life, if you’ll pardon a bad pun. I left her an hour or so ago. She told me you called. She delivered your message.” “I didn’t know. I spoke to her. I saw her. I didn’t know—” “She was quite amused by your visit to the Tea Shoppe. She knew you were here, of course. She assured me that you’d come. It was only a matter of time. You’d come, and when you found no trace of her, you would accuse Derek Hawke of murder. It worked out exactly as planned. You did your part well, too, Deborah.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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