"How about a gentlemen's wager?" Alex said.
Her words were sharply pronounced and clipped. She was almost affecting an accent. Not quite English. During her lifetime, she'd spent the same amount of time in the UK that Sam had. Which was none at all. Not quite the "transatlantic" accent favored by Hollywood stars back in the days when movies were black and white and audiences didn't need the characters to be relateable, either. But almost that.
"Don't you mean a ladies' wager?" Sam replied.
Her voice was soft and airy. Almost melodic, even.
"$100 to the first one to break the perp?"
"Too rich for my blood," Sam said. "How about the loser pays for dinner at La Glaces?"
Alex sighed.
"They aren't what they used to be."
"Yeah. They're better now. They serve chilli-cheese dogs and banana splits."
"Alright. If you win. But if I win..."
"It has to be somewhere in the same price range. I'm not going to fork over the hundred for our meals just because your tastes are more expensive than mine."
"I just want to go somewhere that serves a decent fish and chips. And speaking of expensive tastes..."
They were almost to the front door of the mansion.
"Another case for some rich bitch," Alex said, practically sounding like she wanted to vomit on the front lawn. "Why must we keep offering our services to the bourgeoisie?"
"Because, dear sis, it pays our bills."
Before Sam could reach for the doorbell, the door opened and a dignified, white-haired man, just a couple inches over six feet tall, in formal wear greeted them.
"Good afternoon," he said, in an accent that was definitely more British than the one Alex was putting on. "You must be the detectives. I'm Mickelwhite, Ms. Garcia's butler."
"Wow!" Sam said. "A real life butler. I didn't think those existed anymore. Outside of detective stories and Batman comic books."
"And Downton Abbey," Alex added.
"It's not quite like Downton Abbey," Mickelwhite said. "Follow me, ladies."
Alex muttered "rich bitch" under her breath again as Mickelwhite led them to where Seline Garcia was waiting for them.
"You should go first, sis. You're shorter."
"By a centimeter."
"Which I'll never let you forget."
"But I have better posture and you slouch, which makes me appear taller by a more significant margin."
Seline Garcia rose from her settee gracefully and regarded the sisters like she might an insect not quite worth the effort of stepping on. She was about their height, but significantly curvier. A white towel was wrapped neatly around the top of her head, glimpses of chocolatey hair peeking out around the edges. Her chin jutted out elegantly and her lips were thick and full. Dark sunglasses with a big white frame and stylish black lenses obscured her eyes.
Large earrings dangled almost to her shoulders and her fingers and wrists were dripping with jewelry.
"Finally here," the pop idol/former child actress said, barely annunciating in more than mumbles, as if she had just been jarred from her beauty sleep, her voice slightly nasal but extremely feminine. "I already have all of your suspects assembled in the drawing room."
Alex was about to speak but was distracted by another loud "Wow!" from Sam, who was sticking her face right into a painting on the wall.
"Wouldya look at that?" Sam said. "That's quite a painting. It kinda looks familiar. Why does it look so familiar?"
"It's by Salvador Dali," Seline said.
"Wow!" Sam said again. "I love art, but I had to decorate my place with something more in my price range. Just Thomas Kinkade prints everywhere. Salvador Dali! On your wall! How do you even manage something like that?"
Seline cleared her throat, unamused.
"Anyway..." she muttered in her sleepy-sounding mumble, as a way to change the subject.
"Sorry," Sam said, striding towards her with her arms stretched out as far as it would go for a handshake. "I'm Sam Hyde, and this is my partner Alex Zeek. Nice to meetcha."
Seline looked at Sam's proffered hand and stuck her cute little nose up at it. Meanwhile, Alex's hands stayed firmly clasped together behind her back.
"Sam, as in Sam Spade?" Seline said. "Hyde and Zeek? Those can't be your real names."
"They're names that attract more attention than our competitors," Alex said, that perfect posture of hers allowing her to peer down at Seline from the single inch she had on her. "Why not just go to the police about this, Miss Garcia? You're rich and famous. The kind of person they'd actually bend over backwards for."
"Their methods take too long to get results for me. From your reputation, retrieving my necklace should be quick and easy for the two of you."
"Tell us more about this necklace," Alex said.
"It's the diamond necklace I wore to the 2022 Grammaphony awards. Worth as much as the GDP of some small countries."
"I remember that," Sam said. "Can I just say, you were robbed. I can't believe you got all those nomination and not a single win!"
"Anyway," Seline said, once again as the means of changing the subject. "I keep the necklace in its own safe in my walk-in closet upstairs. Besides me, the only one with the combination is Mickelwhite, and I hope the butler didn't do it because I can't stand cliches."
"Surely you had it insured?" Alex said.
"Oh, yes. For a ton of money. But money is something I have plenty of already. That necklace is a one-of-a-kind work of art. Like the Dali."
After a few more routine questions, Seline led the sleuths into the drawing room. Sam whispered "After this is all through, I'm gonna need an autograph" and Seline ignored her.
In the next room, a few of Seline's celebrity friends, hanger-ons, and her entire entourage were waiting anxiously. Yourself among them.
The ladies were both slightly above the average height for women and slender. Neither of them looked like detectives. Then again, did you really expect them to walk around in rumpled trench coats or deerstalker caps?
"My name is Alexis Alexandria Zeek. And this is my colleague, Samantha Hyde."
She wore a thick brownish-orange overcoat over a similarly colored sweater and a pair of gray flannel trousers, all of which looked slightly baggy on her slight frame. Her shoulder blades and the angles of her face were sharp enough to cut a man open. Her make-up was expertly applied, adding intensity to her full red lips and almond-shaped, flinty brown-green eyes. A beautiful painting applied to an exquisite sculpture, with those cold eyes following you around the room. The only thing soft about her was her long brown hair, which flowed freely down to her waist.
The walking stick she leaned on was so decorative you half-thought it was just a prop, but her limp seemed real enough as she paced around like a big jungle cat ready to pounce on her prey.
"Hi! You can just call me Sam. We have a few questions for all of you, but we want to make this as quick and painless as possible so you can all get back to your regular day."
She wore a simple plaid shirt in shades of red under a blue denim jean jacket. Her jet black hair was in a pixie cut, tightly cropped like a man's, but her face was soft and round and girlish compared to Alexis's. Her eyes were the same brown-green as the other woman's, but instead of flinty and intense they were the softest, deepest doe eyes you'd ever seen. Her soft round cheeks were covered in beauty marks and seemed to have a natural red blush. A pronounced divot led from her prominent nose to her wide, pouty pink lips above a chin that curved into a sharp but elegant point.
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