“That really hot guy is here looking for you,” Bella said.
I was crouched down in front of the wall of jeans in the juniors department, checking my cell phone. It was the perfect spot to avoid being seen by one of the store’s managers—and customers, of course—but, luckily, Bella knew where to find me.
I sprang to my feet and shoved my cell phone into my pocket. I didn’t know which hot guy Bella was referring to—not that there’re a lot of them dropping in on me at Holt’s—but I hoped it was Jack or Shuman.
“Where?” I asked, craning my neck to see around the customers swarming through the aisles.
Honestly, I didn’t know why so many people were in the store tonight. The Stuff-It sale, apparently, was too much of an allure to keep folks at home preparing for Thanksgiving tomorrow.
I’d spent most of the day getting my clients’ holiday parties finished. After Jack had showed up at Starbucks and we’d made a plan, I’d called Detective Shuman, who’d contacted the homicide detectives investigating Veronica’s murder. Between confirming florists and caterers, handling a few last minute changes, and finding a bakery who’d take a twelve dozen cupcakes rush order, I’d learned that Darrell had been picked up and was being questioned by the police.
I spotted Jack standing near the customer service booth and my heart lurched—for a couple of reasons.
“Ask him if he has a brother,” Bella called as I walked away.
Jack looked tired and a bit grim—and still really hot, of course—as I walked past him. He followed me through the swinging doors into the stockroom.
“Darrell admitted to taking money from Veronica,” Jack said. “Claims he wasn’t blackmailing her. He just wanted what was due him.”
Money from Pammy Candy, no doubt.
“I think he’s lying,” Jack said. “So do the cops.”
I figured Jack had a contact in the police department who’d been sending him info. Jack had contacts everywhere.
“Why else would Darrell have gotten a job with the landscapers so he could get near her?” I asked. “What about Veronica’s death? Has he admitted to killing her?”
Jack shook his head. “He says he had nothing to do with it.”
“So it’s just a coincidence that Darrell was at the house the morning she was murdered?” I asked. “I don’t believe it.”
“Nobody believes it,” Jack agreed. “The cops will keep up the pressure. He’ll confess.”
I relaxed knowing Darrell was in custody and the case would be wrapped up soon. Jack seemed relieved, too. I could only imagine how Patrick and the rest of the family felt.
“Are you keeping the security team in place at the house for the feast tomorrow?” I asked.
“They’ll be security present, but I’ll cut back,” Jack said, “so my team can spend the day with their families.”
“What about you?” I asked.
He hesitated a moment, then said, “I’ll be on scene.”
Jack had never been forthcoming about his family. In fact, last Thanksgiving we’d ended up working a case together. I decided not to pry.
“I’ll be there early to make sure everything is prepped and ready to go when the guests arrive,” I said.
He gave me a little grin—Jack has a killer grin—then left.
Honestly, I felt a million times better knowing Darrell was in custody. Even though I’d been totally wrong about suspecting Julia and Erika of Veronica’s murder, I was okay with it. All that mattered was that Darrell would confess, the case would be closed, everybody could enjoy the feast tomorrow, and I didn’t have to worry about something bad happening—until I got to Mom’s house, of course.
As I walked out of the stockroom I spotted Gerri straightening racks of pants in the misses department. She saw me in the same instant.
“Haley, you’re not going to believe what happened,” she said, and hurried over. “The store manager called me into her office as soon as I got here this afternoon.”
Oh, crap.
I wasn’t expecting to be confronted by Gerri.
“She told me there’s a Holt’s scholarship for nursing students,” Gerri said, and a big smile bloomed on her face. “She gave me almost three thousand dollars.”
I just smiled.
“Three thousand dollars. That’s so much money,” Gerri said. “Now I can get a place to live. And she told me I can work more hours—all I want. I can even stay on after Christmas. Isn’t that awesome?”
“Great news,” I said.
Gerri gasped. “Oh, and the best part is that she gave me the day off tomorrow—with pay. Now I can go home for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, because, really, it was.
Her eyes got big and she heaved a huge sigh.
“Three thousand dollars—that’s a ton of money,” she said. “Do you know what you can do with three thousand dollars?”
I knew you could buy a Louis Vuitton tote bag with it.
Or not.
* * *
“Oh, Haley, honey, I could just cry,” Melanie said.
Usually, I’m not good with a crier—but I thought I could handle it this time.
Honestly, I didn’t blame her.
We were on the west lawn of the Spencer-Taft home and I was giving her a preview of the festivities that would begin in a few hours when the Pammy Candy employees arrived for the feast. I’d been here all morning making sure everything would be in place.
It was a typical Southern California day—sunny, mild, and gorgeous. We might not have forests of trees boasting fall-colored leaves, but we made up for it with our weather.
The florist and her staff were turning the grounds into a harvest showplace with bales of hay, corn stalks, pumpkins and gourds, and mum plants. Servers were setting the tables in the dining area with brown linens, accented with amber, garnet, and hunter green floral arrangements. Two workmen were fixing a minor problem with the lighting.
“This section is for the kids,” I said, as we strolled along.
A maze had been created with hay bales. There was a kid-sized table with building blocks and another for crafts.
“There will be face-painting,” I said, “and games like relay and three-legged races. All the staff will be in pilgrim costumes.”
Melanie dabbed the corner of her eyes and said, “Veronica would have loved this.”
“These are her ideas,” I said. “Everything.”
“You’ve done a wonderful job bringing her vision to life,” Melanie said. “Truly you have.”
We walked past the bandstand and the dance floor, and circled back toward the house.
“Well, this trip didn’t turn out like we thought it would,” Melanie said. “We’re leaving tomorrow, you know.”
With everything that had been going on in the past few days, I hadn’t learned about their plans to leave. I hadn’t heard, either, whether Melanie knew of Brandie’s excursion to Starbucks. I sure as heck hadn’t told her.
“The funeral will be on Monday,” Melanie said. “I think Patrick wanted to bury her out here, but his mother convinced him it was best to take her back home and lay her to rest with her family.”
I hadn’t seen Patrick yet today but I wasn’t surprised. Getting through the feast, no doubt thinking of Veronica every moment, would be tough.
“Thank goodness there’s a suspect in custody,” Melanie said.
Apparently, she didn’t know the suspect was a member of her own family.
I wasn’t going to tell her that, either.
“And Pammy Candy will keep turning out delicious treats,” Melanie said, and managed a smile. “Veronica would be just pleased as punch about that.”
My cell phone rang. Melanie gave me a quick wave and went into the house as I glanced at the screen and saw that Jack was calling.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
From the background noise, I figured he was driving.
“No problems,” I said.
“I’ve got two men in place,” Jack said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
I’d seen his men dressed in suits, standing like sentinels watching over the grounds.
“Anything new on Darrell?” I asked.
“Nothing yet,” Jack said.
I’d hoped Darrell would have confessed by now. From the tone of Jack’s voice, I knew he’d wished for the same.
“See you in a few,” he said, and we ended the call.
I went into the house through the west entrance and walked down the hallway past the bathroom and the den, then turned into the massive kitchen. The caterer had been here for hours and the place smelled delicious. Cooks were busy tending the two stoves, the double ovens, and chopping veggies at the worktable.
The menu was extensive—turkey, ham, beef, fish, plus all the traditional side dishes. I’d seen the selection of pies they’d brought in for dessert—so yummy looking I wanted to lay my face down in one and eat my way to the tin.
Julia walked in. She stopped short just inside the doorway when she saw me. I was surprised to see her, too.
She looked exquisite, of course, magnificently turned out in a conservative skirt and blazer that screamed I’m-here-under-protest.
“I’m assuming the hostessing duties today,” she said. “It was called for, under the circumstances.”
I figured she would have shoved Erika into the position alongside Patrick, had it not been the height of bad taste.
Julia nodded oh-so-slightly toward the large windows that overlooked the grounds.
“The job you’ve done is most favorable,” she said in her always careful, measured tone. “I’ll have my assistant call L.A. Affairs on Monday with my compliments.”
As if she were doing me a favor.
I liked her less and less every time I saw her.
“The ideas were all Veronica’s,” I told her. “She approved all the plans.”
Julia uttered a laugh. “If you say so.”
She kept gazing out the window and finally said, “Thank goodness this ordeal is almost over.”
Then I felt kind of bad. Julia—along with everyone else in the family—had been through an emotional trauma these past few days. Maybe I should cut her some slack.
“They’re leaving tomorrow,” Julia said.
She’d said it in an off-handed way, as if she was merely thinking aloud. It struck me as odd.
“There’s still the funeral,” I pointed out.
Julia turned to me and shrugged. “The family will have a presence there, of course.”
Beyond her through the window, I spotted Jack walking onto the grounds. He was dressed in a dark suit. I wondered if he had a gun in a shoulder holster under the jacket.
“Patrick’s father will meet him there,” Julia went on. “Our attorney will be on hand in case there’s any … unpleasantness regarding that company.”
“You mean Pammy Candy?” I asked.
She shuddered. “Really, could that girl have picked a more common, tasteless name for a business?” she asked.
“It was a family name,” I reminded her.
“Oh, yes, that family. Entrepreneurs, all of them,” Julia lifted her chin. “Fanny packs. Seasonal fanny packs, at that. They honestly thought my Patrick would agree to put our name—our good family name—on such a horrible product. Ridiculous.”
Through the window I saw Jack stop and speak to one of the security guys, then disappear from view.
I was frantically formulating a good excuse to get away from Julia and go hang out with Jack when it hit me what she’d just said.
“You knew about Renee’s idea for the fanny pack business?” I asked.
I couldn’t imagine that Renée and Julia had spoken prior to their arrival at the house last week. So how had Julia learned about it?
“Did Veronica tell you?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. Another big idea she and that family of hers had come up with,” Julia declared. She pressed her lips together. “I knew when I saw those people get out of the limousine wearing those things that something was going on. And, of course, Veronica admitted it as soon as I confronted her. She was actually proud of it.”
Oh my God. There was only one place and one moment when they could have had that conversation.
“So you went upstairs and discussed it with Veronica as soon as her family arrived?” I asked.
“I certainly did,” Julia told me.
Behind her in the kitchen doorway, Jack appeared.
“I was not going to stand in front of this house and welcome them, as if I were hostessing,” Julia told me. “I went inside. Erika had the good sense to come, too. I asked her to go to the kitchen and alert the cooks while I went upstairs to find Veronica. Really, to have guests—even guests of that nature—and not be present upon their arrival. It’s simply not done. I intended to tell her that.”
I got a yucky feeling.
“Veronica didn’t know that?” I asked.
“She knew nothing,” Julia said, agitated now. “I should have realized sooner that something was amiss with Patrick. He kept delaying his return from back east. I never thought that some small town, average girl was keeping him there. I should have stepped in sooner. I should have never allowed his father to send him there in the first place.”
The noise level in the kitchen dropped. The caterer’s staff had turned to us. Julia, caught up in memories and growing more upset by the minute, didn’t seem to notice.
“You went upstairs to the master bedroom suite,” I said. “You saw Veronica there, and she told you about the fanny pack business.”
“She bragged about it,” Julia said, her voice rising slightly. “And then—then—she thought she could actually calm my horror at the news by informing me of an announcement she intended to make. As if I should feel special that she’d told me before anyone else.”
I yucky feeling got yuckier.
“They intended to start a family next year,” Julia said, her eyes blazing. “I would never have gotten rid of her, if that had happened.”
Yeah, I was feeling totally yucky now.
“She had no idea I’d become upset. She actually thought I’d be pleased. Can you imagine?” Julia said. “She ran out onto the balcony. I followed her. She began to scream like the scattered-brain girl that she was, and I—”
Julia froze. She glanced around the room and saw that the caterer’s staff was staring.
“So you pushed her?” I asked softly.
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous,” she told me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Julia turned to leave but stopped short at the sight of Jack blocking the doorway. No way could she get around him.
She turned to me again and drew herself up. “You think you’ve discovered something? That I’ve confessed to something?”
I didn’t say anything.
Julia uttered a bitter laugh. “People like me don’t get convicted.”
“Mrs. Spencer-Taft,” Jack said softly, “would you come with me, please? We need to call your attorney.”
He stepped back and gestured down the hallway. Julia put her nose in the air and walked out of the kitchen.
Jack followed her.