Shot Through Velvet, Chapter 1, continued
Lacey was rather sorry that she hadn't worn something velvet
today. In memoriam. Her wardrobe held some favorite velvet pieces in black, green, and burgundy, which intensified her blue-green
eyes, and rich, jewel-toned velvet always contrasted nicely with the highlights in her light brown hair, which she wore today in a
French twist. With the economy so dreary and depressed people all around her in Washington wearing nothing but shades of gray, Lacey
thought it was time to dress up in the downturn. But today she had decided to go with a simple vintage purple wool jacket and black
slacks, as if wearing velvet would be giving it too much favor, as if she were taking its side against other fabrics.
Nicholson cleared his throat to break the spell. He stepped a bit closer to the corpse, taking care not to touch anything. Nicholson
had a young man's face and an old man's worried air. Casually dressed in a tan shirt and khaki slacks, his shoulders seemed to take
on weight, dragging him down. With exasperation, he turned and gestured to Donovan.
"About this security contract. We're going to need some changes."
Vic nodded in response. "Goes without saying."
"I'm afraid this tour is over, Ms. Smithsonian," Nicholson said. "I have to call the police."
Lacey nodded,
but she knew it didn't mean the story was over. Her story here was just beginning.
"Who is the blue man?"
she asked.
"That man is the Blue Devil," Inez murmured, still clutching her hair and pulling tight on her
braid.
"Who is the Blue Devil?" Lacey asked. "And where is Rod Gibbs?"
"I believe
you're looking at Rodney Gibbs right now," Nicholson said. "He's had better days."
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