CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We meandered through the lower floor of the imperious palace to a salon at the rear of the house. Curtains hung about the walls for no reason other than to muffle the chatter that came from the two dozen women who congregated in small groups in the corners. A hush fell on the crowd as I was led in by the butler, who stepped to one side and bowed his head to the women.
“Miss Millie Lucas,” he announced before he stepped out of the room.
“Darling!” a woman cooed as she swept away from her friends and over to me.
She was about fifty but tried her hardest to appear twenty years younger with more foundation on her face than a construction site. The woman wore a flowered dress with so many loud colors that I wondered if Ben could hear it from his alley. Her long nails
