‘Mortal Friends’: A murder mystery to die for
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Now, everyone who knows me knows the story of my name. I’ve been teased about it ever since I was a kid. I have a pat response, which has the added advantage of being true.
“I was basically a mistake. My parents never thought they’d have me. Hence, the name Reven is ‘never’ spelled backward,” I explained with my customary self-deprecating laugh.
People usually laugh with me. Not Cynthia. She furrowed her brow, like she disapproved. It was the first time I’d ever gotten such a reaction. I was a little disconcerted.
“Family joke,” I muttered.
“Such a pretty name ...,” she mused. “That is, if you don’t know what it means.”
“Oh,” I said, rather at a loss for words.
“See now, like rêve, in French, means ‘dream,’ ” Cynthia went on. “So here’s a thought: Why not tell people you were a dream-come-true instead of a goof?”
I looked at Violet. Violet looked at me and raised her eyebrows.
“But you like being a goof, don’t you, Rev?” Violet said with mock seriousness.
“Definitely. And you like being goofy, don’t you, Violet?”
“Love it!”
We burst out laughing like the demented schoolgirls we were at heart.
Cynthia stared at us like we were nuts. When it was clear we didn’t give a damn what she thought, she attempted to laugh with us. But Violet and I go back such a long time and we have so many private jokes that it’s a closed shop, if you know what I mean. We had that conspiratorial thing between us that only old and dear friends can have. You can’t beat time and history for friendship, particularly after a concert when Violet was in a mood to laugh at anything and nothing. Her laughter was infectious. Finally, we shut up, whereupon Cynthia pointed a red-nailed finger at me and declared imperiously: “I like you.” It had the ring of a royal decree.
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“Gosh, that means the world to me,” I said with an absolutely straight face. I could feel Violet trying desperately not to start laughing again.
Cynthia went on: “I’m buying a house, and I’m gonna need a lot of stuff. You have a card?”
“Not with me.”
Cynthia opened her diamond-studded clutch, took out a card, and handed it to me. “First rule of business: Always carry a card.”
“I forget to on social occasions,” I said.
Cynthia looked around the room. “Oh, honey, this is no social occasion. I betcha there’s more business getting done here in this room tonight than’ll get done in the whole of Congress next week!”
“How about next decade?” Violet said. “They’re so pathetic, poor old Congress. All they can pass is wind!”
I laughed. Cynthia didn’t crack a smile. Apparently she had no sense of humor. Of course, my father used to say that people are only taken as seriously as they take themselves and that a woman with a sense of humor will never get as far as a woman without one. But people without a sense of humor aren’t much fun to be around, no matter how far they’ve gotten. Violet had a wicked sense of humor. It was the first thing that drew me to her back in the day. I couldn’t imagine why she liked this woman and, more to the point, why she thought I’d like her.
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“Cynthia? First of all, she’s doing a great deal of good for the community.”
“Oh, puh-leeze ... It’s me. Hellooo! You sound like a politician!”
I knew Violet well enough to know what a line of B.S. that was. Violet couldn’t have cared less if someone was doing “good for the community.” There were many socialites who did a lot of “good for the community” who Violet avoided like the plague because they were heavier than cheese fondues.
I stared at her, and she finally owned up. “Okay, well, her foundation is doing a lot of business with Grant’s bank.”
“Aha!”
“And Miss Cynical, I’m thinking of you,” she quickly added. “Wouldn’t it be nice if Cynthia bought a house and wanted you to decorate it? Last time I heard you could use the business. So just like her and zip it for your own good!”
As I watched her trip off to her table, confident in her own quiet way that she was in complete control of her world, I thought — not for the first time — how lucky I was to have Violet for a friend.
But that was the last night when all was what it seemed to be.
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