Shades of Twilight (Page 72)
But all of her little hiding places were empty. She didn’t have any coke, and she didn’t have any money. Desperately she roamed the suite, trying to think. Aunt Lucinda always kept a good bit of money in her purse, but the purse was in her bedroom and the old lady was still in her suite, so she couldn’t get at it. Grandmother and Mama had gone shopping, so they would have taken all their cash with them. But Roanna was asleep in the study … Corliss laughed to herself as she slipped from her rooms and hurried down the hallway to Roanna’s room. Guess it was a good thing Webb had kept her from slamming that door after all. Let dear little Roanna sleep, the stupid bitch.
Silently she entered Roanna’s bedroom. Roanna always put her purses away in the closet like a good little girl. It took Corliss only a moment to filch Roanna’s wallet and count the money. Only eighty-three bucks, damn it. Even someone as dense as Roanna would notice if a couple of twenties went missing. She seldom bothered searching
Roanna’s purse for that reason, because Roanna didn’t normally carry much cash. She eyed the credit cards but resisted the temptation, she would have to sign for a cash advance on them, and anyway the bank teller might know she wasn’t Roanna. That was the trouble with hick towns, too many people knew your business.
The automatic teller bank card was something else, though. If she could just find Roanna’s PIN … Swiftly she began pulling scraps of paper out of the little pockets of the wallet. No one was supposed to write down their PIN, but everyone did. She found a slip of paper, neatly folded, with four numbers on it. She snickered to herself as she took an ink pen from the bottom of Roanna’s purse and scribbled the numbers on her palm. Maybe it wasn’t the PIN, but so what? All the machine would do was not give her the money, it wasn’t as if it would call Roanna and tell on her.
Smiling, she slipped the bank card into her pocket. This was better than sneaking a twenty here and a twenty there. She’d get a couple of hundred, put the card back before Roanna missed it, and have some fun tonight. Hell, she’d even put the transaction slip in the folder where Roanna kept things like that; that way, there wouldn’t be a discrepancy when the bank statement came out. This was a good plan; she’d have to use it again, though it would be smart to use Aunt Lucinda’s card occasionally, if she could get it, and alternate rather than using the same one all the time. Variety was the spice of life. It also cut down on her chances of getting caught, which was the most important thing; that, and getting money.
By eight o’clock that night, Corliss felt much better. After hitting the automatic bank machine, it had taken her some time to find her regular supplier, but at last she had located him. The white powder beckoned, and she wanted to sniff it all up at once, but she knew it would be smarter if she rationed it, because there was no telling how often she would be able to sneak a bank card. She allowed herself just a single line, enough to take the edge off.
Then she was in the mood for fun. She hit her favorite bar, but none of her friends were there, and she sat by herself, humming a little. She ordered her favorite drink, a strawberry daiquiri, which she liked because it packed quite a punch the way the bartender made them for her but still looked like one of those cute drinks it was okay for a nice girl to drink.
The longer she sat there, though, the more her mood darkened. She tried to hang on to the drug-induced euphoria, but it faded as it always did, and she wanted to cry. The daiquiri was good, but the alcohol didn’t work the same way coke did. Maybe if she got a real buzz on, it would help.
The hour dragged past, and still none of her friends came in. Had they gone somewhere else tonight and not told her? She felt a sense of panic at being abandoned. Surely no one had heard that Webb had threatened to throw her out of Davencourt, not yet.
Desperately she sipped the daiquiri, trying not to stick herself in the eye with the stupid little turquoise paper parasol. Either the straw was shorter than usual, or that damn parasol had grown. She hadn’t had this kind of trouble with the first two drinks. She glared at the bartender, wondering if he was playing a practical joke on her, but he wasn’t even looking at her, so she decided he wasn’t.
The carcasses of the other two little paper parasols lay in front of her. One was yellow, the other was pink. Put them all together and she’d have a pretty little parasol bouquet, Whoopee. Maybe she’d save them to put on Aunt Lucinda’s grave. That was a thought; by the time the old bat kicked off, she should have enough little parasols collected to make a real pretty wreath.
Or maybe she could stuff them down Webb Tallant’s throat. Death by parasol; that had a nice ring to it.
The bastard had scared her half to death this afternoon when he’d grabbed her like that. And the look in his eyes God That was the coldest, meanest look she’d ever seen,
and for nothing! Little Miss Mealy-Mouth’s beauty sleep hadn’t been disturbed, and God knows she needed all she could get. Corliss snickered, but her mirth died when she remembered the threats Webb had made.
She hated him. Why did he have everything? He didn’t deserve it. It had always galled her that he was the chosen favorite when he wasn’t any closer kin to Aunt Lucinda than she was. He was mean and selfish, the old bitch was going to give Davencourt to him, and he wasn’t going to let her live there after Aunt Lucinda died. It just wasn’t fair!
As much as she disliked Roanna, at least Roanna was a real Davenport, and she wouldn’t feel as bad if Davencourt went to her. Like hell, she wouldn’t. Roanna was a stupid wimp, and she didn’t deserve Davencourt either. The only good thing about Roanna having the house was that Corliss knew she could handle Roanna with one hand tied behind her back. She’d have that little mouse so buffaloed Roanna would be handing over money instead of forcing Corliss to sneak it.