A Crazy Little Thing Called Death Read Online Free PDF

clothes, so I knew there wouldn’t be any real food. I picked up a sandwich on my way.”
    “Good thinking.”
    “You’ll be a big hit with them. You look great, as always. Shall I introduce you?”
    “I’ll pass, but thanks.”
    “Is that suit some designer I should recognize?”
    “Only if you were reading Vogue as a baby. This was my grandmother’s. It’s Oleg Cassini, and she bought it in Paris with Penny Devine. Penny bought an identical one. I’m wearing it in Penny’s memory.”
    “You look ten times better than your grandma ever did.”
    “You never knew her. She was a looker.”
    “Speaking of lookers, are your sisters here today?”
    I didn’t realize Crewe knew Emma or Libby. “Yes, they are, as a matter of fact.”
    “And what about Lexie? Is she around?”
    I should have known. Poor Crewe. For years, he’d been carrying a torch for my friend Lexie Paine. And Lexie, who wanted nothing to do with any man on earth, completely ignored Crewe.
    “I’m sorry,” I said gently, “but she didn’t come today. If I know Lexie, she’s probably giving advice to the International Monetary Fund, out of the goodness of her heart.”
    “Where would our economy be without her?” He made an attempt at good cheer.
    “Down the tubes for sure.”
    “Did you know Raphael Braga is here?” Crewe asked suddenly. He tried to be nonchalant, but his gray gaze rested on mine for an instant too long. “He’s playing in the match today.”
    Just the mention of his name gave me butterflies. Crewe’s cousin Carolina had married the famous polo player. I wondered how much Crewe knew about my strange connection to Raphael.
    “Yes, I—I saw the publicity. I thought I’d get a few quotes for my column and scram before he—well, soon.” I managed a smile, but knew I was flubbing the moment. “Meanwhile, I’m looking for my niece, Lucy. Have you seen a little ballerina with a sword?”
    Crewe laughed again as he wrapped up the remains of his sandwich in the soiled napkin. “Sounds like a Blackbird, all right! No, sorry, haven’t seen her. Do you need help?”
    “No, but I better keep looking before she commits a crime.”
    As I turned away, Crewe put a hand on my arm. “Nora, why don’t you come to dinner with me sometime? As long as you don’t mind my usual routine, it could be fun. When I review, I try to take a foursome so I get to taste as much of the menu as possible. Want to tag along? We could get caught up, too. You could bring a date.”
    And maybe Lexie. He didn’t say it, but we both knew what he was hoping for. I didn’t detect any sly hints about my love life in his invitation, so maybe he was one of the hermits who hadn’t yet heard of my entanglement with the Mafia prince. But I doubted it. Crewe was better at faking nonchalance than I.
    I smiled. “Must I order braised eel or polar-bear brains?”
    Apologetic, he said, “Actually, I do all the ordering. It’s the only way I can do my job. But for you, I promise no eels.”
    “Sounds like fun. Call me.”
    His smile brightened. “I will. And good luck with the niece search.”
    I thanked him and left Crewe to dispose of his sandwich without further discovery.
    Thinking like a six-year-old, I made an about-face and walked back along the line of parked cars until I reached the area where all the horse trailers were parked.
    Here, the fancy parties and beautiful clothes morphed into a very different world. A variety of working trucks and trailers mingled in the mud with polished wooden horse vans as beautiful as yachts. The people who bustled here weren’t sipping champagne, but slinging saddles and talking strategy.
    A string of polo ponies, saddled and with their tails tightly braided into bobs, had been tied along a makeshift fence beside the most spectacular of the vans. I saw men in riding gear moving among the horses, so I didn’t linger. The last person I wanted to see was Raphael Braga.
    A Jack Russell terrier, the dog of choice