A Disguise to Die For by Diane Vallere

to get in because everybody was in costume? Nobody would have noticed that there was a stranger among the rest of the partygoers.”
    â€œCould be. We love our costume parties around here, but it sure does make it easy for a stranger to infiltrate our world.”
    â€œI hadn’t thought about that before, but I guess it does.” I threw the wadded-up paper towel into the trash and screwed the gas cap back onto my scooter.
    â€œYou’re Jerry Tamblyn’s girl, aren’t you?” he asked.
    I nodded. “I’m Margo.”
    â€œSo I guess that makes you part of the problem, doesn’t it?”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    He turned to the side and jabbed his elbow at my arm.“I’m just joshin’ ya. Your dad designed the costumes for my
Maverick
party a few months back.”
    â€œI heard about that,” I said.
    â€œGonna be hard for Sol Girard to top that for next month’s poker game.” He laughed. “You tell Jerry to keep up the good work and don’t pay any attention to my theories.” He put his hand on my shoulder and nodded toward the gas pump. “Sorry about the gasoline on your shoes. Next time you need a fill-up, you come see me first. It’ll be on the house.”
    â€œThanks, Mr. Cannon,” I said.
    â€œCall me Black Jack. Everybody else does. And this little scooter is mighty cute, but if you ever decide you want a real car, you come see me about that too.”
    â€œMaybe I will.” I climbed back on, buckled my helmet under my chin, and glanced at Black Jack’s parking lot. Tak’s RAV4 was still there. I took off before he came back and spotted me.
    I returned to Disguise DeLimit as Kirby was closing out the register drawer. He held up an index finger while he counted the change. I straightened the wall of fringed flapper dresses and put the bin of cigarette holders back on the shelf where they belonged. The peg next to the dresses that usually held an assortment of sequined headbands was empty except for one pink, one red, and one blue.
    â€œOkay, I’m done counting,” Kirby said. “We had a good day. The Proper City Cheerleaders were looking for something special for their halftime routine, and they flipped when they saw the flapper dresses. They took dresses, headbands, and fishnet stockings.” At the word
stockings
he turned red under his freckles.
    â€œSounds like it’s going to be quite a halftime routine,” I said. “I noticed that we were low on headbands. Are you saying they bought all but the three we have left?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI guess I know what I’ll be working on tonight,” I said.
    Accessories were easy to order from our suppliers, but we’d always known that it was the merchandise that we could make ourselves that would separate us from more commercial costume shops. It wasn’t hard to make a headband of bright, sequined elastic and add on a feather or a paste gem, but by making the headbands in-house, we could experiment with different types of feathers and stretchy supplies and come up with combinations that regular costume shops couldn’t stock. One of our most popular items was the black beaded headband with the peacock feather. It was the perfect unique accessory to set off a little black dress, even for an event that didn’t require a costume.
    â€œI put the money in the safe and tallied up the sales slips. I can stay behind and help you fill in the shelves for tomorrow, if you want,” Kirby said.
    â€œNo, you should go home. It’s after five. Enjoy the rest of your night.” I apologized for not being able to give him a schedule for the week, since I didn’t know when my dad and Don would be back. We agreed to play it by ear. I walked Kirby to the front door and threw the lock after he left.
    Eager to shed the residue of gasoline that clung to my hands and clothing, I headed upstairs for a shower. I changed