Bea blushed, but she didn’t back down. “Well, my kids decided I needed a hobby, so my grandson’s been teaching me graphic design. You know, on the computer. It’s not that hard.”
Cora turned toward Bea. “What’s next? Are you going to forge a Rembrandt for us? Whip up some fake hundred-dollar bills?”
“I’ve always said we could use a little more crime around here,” Jack chimed in with a grin. “Start with party invitations, and before you know it, you’ll have the feds knocking on your door.”
Bea waved them off, smiling as she tucked the invitation back into its envelope. “Oh, please. I’d only use my powers for good. No crime spree. Yet.”
“If you ever need a getaway driver, you know who to call,” Jack said.
Aggie turned to Cora. “Well? Are you going to join us at the party or will you miss all the fun?”
Cora sighed, knowing full well she was outnumbered. The gleam in Jack’s eyes and the eager anticipation on everyone’s faces told her there was no backing out now.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“That’s the spirit!” Aggie exclaimed. “You’ll need some breaking-and-entering clothes. How do you feel about sequins?”
It turnedout that Aggie’s idea of breaking-and-entering clothes didn’t include sequins, but it did involve floral sundresses so bright they probably showed up on satellite images. Forget stealth mode. They looked like a walking bouquet, broadcasting their presence to the entire neighborhood. Cora was pretty sure even the birds were gossiping about their wardrobe choices.
After spending the rest of the week tackling grueling house projects, including repainting the walls and regrouting the café’s bathrooms, Cora’s hands were covered in scratches, and her nails were shredded beyond recognition.But at least Lolly’s old church dress covered her from neck to knee.
The Worthington estate loomed before them, a monument to old money and even older grudges. Manicured lawns stretched in every direction, dotted with topiary animals that looked like they’d wandered out of a Dr. Seuss book after one too many martinis.
Cora tugged at the hem of the dress. “Remind me again why we thought this was a good idea?”
Jack, looking annoyingly handsome in a borrowed blazer that fit him as if it was custom made, leaned in close. “Because Aggie’s persuasive when she wants to be. Plus, I hear there’s an open bar.”
It was hard to argue with that logic, especially when his breath against her ear was short-circuiting her ability to form a coherent thought. Who needed a clear head when there was free booze and Jack standing that close?
Winston adjusted his bowtie like the serious newspaper editor he was. “Now remember, you’re all my staff. Cora, you’re my ace reporter. Jack, you’re the photographer. Aggie and Bea, you’re...well, you’re Aggie and Bea.”
“Social columnists,” Aggie said with a wink. “We know where all the bodies are buried. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
Cora decided not to follow up on that. Some rocks were better left unturned, especially when they might be covering Cousin Ethel, who had mysteriously vanished after criticizing Aggie’s blackberry cobbler at a family reunion in 1985.
As they approached the gate, a thought struck her. “Wait. How are we not going to be recognized? This isn’t New York. People will know we don’t work for the paper.”
Bea patted her arm. “Oh, honey. The Worthingtons and their snooty friends don’t pay attention to the little people. We could waltz in claiming to be the Queen of England andher corgis, and they’d believe it, as long as we’re holding the right drinks.”
Aggie added, “No one suspects a little old lady. I could get away with murder.”
Cora made a mental note to never underestimate Aggie. Or play poker with her. Or turn her back when sharp objects were within reach.
“What happens if Nathaniel sees us?” Cora asked. “He knows exactly who I am. And Jack. And the three of you.”
Winston waved a hand. “He won’t. Last year he parked himself next to the bar and held court all night. He won’t notice a thing unless someone interrupts his monologues about real estate or bourbon.”
Aggie leaned closer. “All we have to do is smile politely and act like we belong. Besides, Nathaniel Worthington doesn’t see people. He scans them for net worth and golf club memberships. Since we have neither, we’ll be invisible.”
“Comforting,” Cora muttered.
As they neared the gate, clutching invitations that had been perfectly forged by Bea and her grandson, Cora felt a flicker of nerves. But the guard barely glanced at them before waving them through like VIPs. She silently added Bea to her growing list of people to keep an eye on.
Inside the garden party, crystal clinked, polite laughter floated through the air, and a string quartet played something that was decidedly not rock, much to her disappointment. The air smelled like roses, expensive cologne, and a hefty dose of entitlement. Money had a scent, and the Worthingtons were practically marinating in it.
Jack leaned in, his hand finding the small of her back and making her skin feel a size too small. “Tell me you’ve crashed a party before.”
Cora glanced at him, wide-eyed. “Are you kidding? I once got hives sneaking into an R-rated movie. This is way outside my skill set.”
