Would she mind if I picked it up and hit Jules with it? Yeah, that was probably out too. Besides, if I guessed right, it was a little too heavy. Maybe one of the paintings?
"We should mingle," Cass said, his voice tight. "We'll look less suspicious."
He was right, but I couldn't shake the thought maybe he wanted to be away from me.
"Good idea," I said finally. "I see someone I know, I should go and say hello."
I nodded across the room to Solomon Danforth. A former chef, now owner of a very exclusive restaurant. He was an old friend of my father. A mentor of sorts.
He nodded back and offered a smile before turning back to his companions and chuckling at something one of them said.
"I'll go with you." Archer dropped his hand from my waist and laced his fingers in mine. He gave Cass a characteristically unreadable look and followed me through the throng.
I led the way through the glittering crowd, past Sable Taylor-Francis, who looked happier than when we saw her last. Her black hair shone, pin straight with a hint of purple. Her gaze was still cautious as she spoke to a burly man in a navy Armani suit, but I couldn't see a sign of any bruises on her skin. With her husband dead, killed by Archer and me, she had a better chance of living her best life.
She gave us a glance as we passed, her brow creasing briefly. There was no way she could have recognized us. We were wearing masks when we were in her hotel room. She must have recognized me from some article about my restaurant.
I gave her a faint smile and went on pushing through the crowds.
"That was weird," I said to Archer once we were out of sight.
He shrugged, looking indifferent. "She couldn't know."
"I know she couldn't, but…" I shook my head. "I don't know." I put the thought aside for now. I should be concentrating on looking for someone who fit with what we knew about Eros. What little we knew. Half the men here fit into the right age bracket.
I spotted Erin off to the side, talking to a couple of men and a woman a handful of years older than her. She'd helped me bring the food here before hurrying home to get changed.
Her bright yellow, off the shoulder, floral dress stood out in the crowd, but she looked beautiful. Judging by the expressions on the faces of the people she was talking to, they thought so too.
I'd keep an eye on her, but I wasn't going to hover. Not unless I thought she needed me. Right now, she looked like she was in her element. Socializing and having fun.
"The percentage of people here who are guilty of some crime or another," Archer remarked. "Mostly white collar stuff. Shoplifting here or there."
"Some casual murder," I said in his ear.
He snorted softly and whispered back. "There's nothing casual about it."
I glanced at him and smiled before saying, "Someformalmurder, then."
"Sounds like a good title for a movie." He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server and handed it to me before taking another. "The Formal Murder Club." He raised his glass.
I tapped mine against his before taking a sip. "Maybe you should propose that to one of the studios."
"I just might," he said. "I could do my own research and write a script."
"No one would believe it," I said.
"That's the best part." His eyebrows quirked upward. "I could write off all the cleaning supplies on tax."
"That wouldn't be suspicious at all," I joked. "Bleach, rubber gloves, rope, sharp knives. All for research. The IRS might ask questions."
"That's unfortunately true," he said regretfully.
"Fortunately, I can write off three of those items against the restaurant," I said.
"You picked the right profession." He sipped his champagne and scanned the room. "Who did you want to say hello to?"
I frowned. "I saw a colleague of mine, but I can't see him now. I must have been mistaken."
