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About the
Book
Read an
excerpt
Synopsis:
Now Dee DelValle really regrets her fling with
L.A. news anchor Sheila Shelbourne. Not only did
it cause a breakup with her lover, but Dee is
now suspect numero uno in Sheila’s murder.
Dee summons help from her three best buddies,
Tully, Felicia, and Jenny. Together they dig
behind the scenes of TV broadcasting, where
ratings can be a matter of life and death,
discovering secrets kept even from each other.
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First chapter:
Relationships Can Be Murder by Jane DiLucchio
Prelude
The woman lay sprawled on her right side across
the damask-covered couch, one arm flung above
her head, the other draped across her stomach. A
dressing gown was half-drawn around her,
exposing one long leg and most of her ample
cleavage. Blonde hair curled around her face.
Two Tiffany lamps lit the room, one on an end
table and the other, shade cracked, sitting on
the floor. The lamps cast a rainbow of colors
across the woman and the sheaves of paper strewn
over the blues and greens of the plush Persian
rug in the living room. The framed awards and
letters on the wall to the right of the couch
were no longer the least bit parallel to each
other. The brass and glass bookshelf that
usually stood opposite the couch lay on its
side, its contents adding to the disorder on the
floor.
The oak rolltop desk in the far corner of the
room sat exposed, its drawers open and empty.
The computer normally hidden within its recesses
was on, but the screen was blank.
On the glass coffee table in front of the couch
were two glasses and a bottle of Dom Perignon in
a crystal ice bucket. The bucket had only a few
ice chips left in it, and the moisture from the
outside had formed a beaded circle of water on
the tabletop.
The disarray would normally have perturbed the
woman greatly. In fact, she would have been
extremely uncomfortable to have anyone see the
condo, or herself, in this condition.
However, a deep concave dent on the back of her
head had ended all her mundane concerns of
embarrassment.
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Chapter 1
Dee DelValle slid through the crowd of smokers
outside Club Sheba and dug in the back pocket of
her jeans for her ID. The sardine can atmosphere
of a Saturday night at the West Hollywood hot
spot made maneuvering difficult. The bouncer at
the door illuminated her driver’s license with a
flashlight, then motioned her in. The
conversation and drumbeat were at about the same
high intensity, and in inverse proportion to the
amount of light inside the bar.
An irrational desire to light a cigarette
flashed through Dee’s mind. Doubly irrational
considering she did not smoke and hated the
smell of cigarettes. But she hated even more the
bureaucrats of California telling people what
they could and could not do. However, since she
was here for a celebration, she decided to hold
off on her act of civil disobedience until
another time.
As Dee stood still and waited for her eyes to
adjust, she heard her name being called. She
wove her way through the lounging singles and
dancing couples, carefully juggling a gaily
festooned box around the crush of people. Both
she and the present arrived safely at three
tables which had been dragged together into a
close grouping.
“Howdy, Dee!” A tall, well-developed woman
jumped up and hugged Dee.
“Hey, Tully!” Dee flashed a megawatt grin at her
best friend. She set the box on one of the
tables and then leaned back for a second look at
Tully’s wavy shoulder-length locks. “Red
tonight?”
“Please. Auburn. With fiery highlights.”
Tallulah Bouchart’s hair was never the same
color for more than a month or so. Dee suspected
Tully considered it but another palette on which
to use her creative talents. To Dee’s mind those
color variations combined with Tully’s hooded
eyes, hooked nose, and full lips made her
distinctively attractive.
Plopping her slight frame into the tiny chair,
Dee looked around at the other eight chairs and
asked, “Where’s everyone else?”
“Late. Or we’re really early. Doesn’t matter. I
asked Jenny to pick Felicia up and make sure
they get here very late, so the surprise will
work.”
“Does this mean that Jenny has finally noticed
Felicia’s rather ardent interest in her?”
Tully shook her head. “Jenny is kind of a shy
filly. She’s really slow on the uptake when it
comes to women being interested in her. However,
a little assigned together time can’t hurt.”
“Why you little matchmaker you. Anyway, I still
say this is a weird place to have a birthday
party.” Dee had to almost shout into Tully’s ear
to be heard. “Not much chance to socialize.”
“True. But the liquor’s nearby and the dance
floor is open. What more could one ask of life?”
Dee shook her head at her friend, a not unusual
occurrence. “So where’s you amour du jour?”
“None on tap tonight. Thought I’d check out the
local talent.” Tully waggled her eyebrows and
grinned, bringing out a dazzling display of
dimples. “What about you? Seeing anybody since
you-know-who?”
“You know I’ve sworn off women. I’m a slow
learner, but not that slow.” Dee looked around
for a server. “Have you ordered anything yet?”
“A veritable repast of delights: nachos, chicken
fingers, fried zucchini. And a gin and tonic. At
least that’s the first course.”
Dee rolled her eyes at her friend. Tully could,
and did, eat anything and never budged beyond
her rather robust size. Dee’s genetic heritage
had a decided tendency towards fat, a tendency
she fought with great diligence. “I just want
ice water. But I may as well be in the Gobi
desert.” She waved her arm at a waitress who
passed by without looking in their direction.
The music shifted to a soft, romantic tune. The
dance floor filled with women, bodies pressed
tightly together, legs as well as arms
intertwining. The two friends were suddenly able
to converse without yelling.
“So, good buddy,” Tully asked, “are you going to
make it these last few weeks until summer?”
Dee shrugged. “The kids are antsy, the
principal’s crazed, and the Board of Ed is their
usual unreasonable selves. A normal May for a
teacher.” She added, “Of course my mood swings
the last few months haven’t helped.”
“Premenopausal or affair backlash?”
“Losing Evie over my unleashed libido didn’t
help my teaching style any.”
Tully snorted. “You knew when you started up
with that blonde bimbo…”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t want to rehash this. Evie
rubbed my nose in it enough.”
“But you’re so rarely foolish. It’s such a
delight to be able to point out what an ass you
were.” Tully’s eyes twinkled.
Dee grimaced. “No need for you to join in the
fun. Evie made certain that I was more acutely
aware of my deficiencies than any human being
ever has been in all of recorded history.”
“Knowing Ms. Taylor’s facility with words, I am
sure you don’t need me to re-emphasize your
appalling lack of judgment,” Tully said.
Dee said, “Nope. But even you’ve got to admit
that Sheila is good looking, talented and famous
as well as self-centered. Of course, having your
picture plastered on billboards and the sides of
RTD buses all over town has got to have some
sort of effect on your self-esteem. Add to that
two Emmys for reporting and more awards for best
local news anchor and you have somewhat
justified fat head.”
“Television awards,” Tully snorted. “Honors
among thieves.”
“Now, now. Don’t bite the hand that partially
feeds you.”
A brunette clad in tight jeans and a cotton top
appeared at their table with three steaming
plates and a tall, icy glass. Tully paid the
bill and gave the waitress a healthy tip and a
long, slow, dimpled smile. Having experienced
Tully’s effect on women, Dee could see that
she’d have to exert herself if she wanted the
waitress to acknowledge her existence, let alone
take her drink order.
Waving her hand in front of the brunette’s face,
Dee requested some bottled water. The waitress
nodded, but her eyes slipped back to Tully and
she gave her a slight smile before leaving.
Dee knew that she, herself, was not a beauty.
However her heart-shaped face, wide green eyes,
thick lashes, and snub nose had brought enough
favorable responses from others that her ego was
fairly strong. She sighed at Tully and said,
“Women never ignore me until I get around you.
When you look at them, they always look back.
How do you manage?”
Tully picked up a chicken finger and swirled it
in the sweet and sour sauce, “If it weren’t for
some woman who smiled back at me fifteen years
ago, I’d still be on the wrong side of the
fence. I infinitely prefer this side. And I love
showing other women what they might be missing.”
“Tallulah Bouchart, you are a menace to all the
women in the world. If they only knew.”
Tully just continued to grin as she licked the
sauce off the fried bit of chicken breast.
“Dee! Tully!” A booming voice carried across
several yards of noise to reach the women.
Turning, they saw a tall plump woman bullying
her way through the crowd. Within seconds Nancy
Yegarian was hurling her bulk into one of the
tiny bar chairs which groaned in protest. “Did
you catch the news tonight?” Her excited voice
blasted through the music.
“I try not to,” Dee replied. “What’s up? Have we
invaded another country or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. There’s been a murder.”
Tully snorted. “This is L.A. A murder is not
exactly page one, stop-the-presses news.”
Nancy shook her head. “This one is. Someone
killed Sheila Shelbourne.”
* * *
Dee leaned against her metallic purple Hyundai
in the Club Sheba parking lot, arms folded
around herself. She felt an internal chill which
had nothing to do with the cool of the late
spring evening. As she inhaled, her chest
tightened and goose bumps crawled her arms.
She wasn’t aware of Tully’s approach until she
felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. Dee
leaned into Tully’s shoulder and let her friend
cradle her.
Reluctant to emerge from the safe, warm cocoon,
Dee said into Tully’s shoulder, “I know you
never liked her.”
“You’re right. And her being dead doesn’t change
the fact that she was a lying, cheating slut who
hurt you and about every other woman she ever
crossed paths with. But that still doesn’t give
anybody the right to kill her.” Her voice
gentled. “And it doesn’t help you deal with
someone you loved being dead.”
“I never loved her. Not really.” Dee emerged
from the crook of Tully’s arm and leaned against
the car once more. “I guess somehow that makes
it worse. I went to bed with her because she was
sexy and exciting and beautiful and famous. And
I really didn’t care about her as a person at
all. Good grief,” she added, rubbing the back of
her neck, “I might as well be a man.”
Tully scoffed, “Five-feet, four, barely 125
pounds soaking wet, and you wear your heart on
your sleeve. Some macho punk you’d be.”
“I bow to your superior knowledge of the
species,” Dee took a deep breath. “Be that as it
may, I still can’t believe... Who would...?”
“Kill her?” Tully finished Dee’s thought. She
craned her head to look into the night. Only the
moon and a few of the strongest stars were
visible in the brightly lit Los Angeles sky.
“Who would kill Sheila? Probably a lot of people
if they knew her true character. All those
adoring television viewers who hung on her every
report. All her fans in the lesbian community
who thought she walked on water because she was
out and she condescended to mingle openly in the
community. All those women who left their lovers
or whose lovers left them because of Sheila
Shelbourne. I guess the police will have close
to a million good, solid suspects.”
Dee studied her friend in the light of the
street lamp. “I never knew you hated her that
much. What did she ever do to you?”
“To me? Nothing.” Tully shrugged. “To my
friends...” She raised her eyebrows. “Anyway, mi
amiga, no matter how anticlimactic it is, the
birthday girl will be arriving soon. Do you feel
like coming in or should I make your excuses?
You know Felicia loves you and would
understand.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that. Somehow, I’m
not in a party mood. I feel like bingeing and
then sleeping until noon.”
“You sure you’re OK to drive home?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry. What else could happen?”
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