CHAPTER

forty

LIKE I HAD promised Marina, I looked over the brochure during my lunch hour. I needed the break, too. Nicola found me not as zombied out as before, but bad enough that she took over the simple grooming duties in the morning. She put me in charge of the register—and even then, Marshmallow sometimes had to whisper the right change amount to me.

At noon, I took Marshmallow out to sit in the sunshine with me in the plaza. I found it somehow fitting that we sat on the same bench Marina had vacated hours before. After I’d finished my peanut butter and banana sandwich (I found the combo comforting), I put on my earbuds and plugged them into my phone.

This way I could talk to Marshmallow without getting any odd stares. I waited until the lunch crowd of people flaunting impressive tanned bodies disappeared into the local beach restaurants before starting up our conversation.

“Let’s take a look at this brochure then.” I flipped open the trifold pamphlet.

“Yawn,” Marshmallow said. “Who cares about these packages? Bouquet or corsage? Elvis serenade or not?”

“Can’t help fah-lling in love,” I crooned, using jazz hands.

He placed a paw on the brochure. “Oh, look. This paragraph is circled, Mimi.”

“I know you’re just trying to derail my singing career.”

“No, really. It has an asterisk beside it.” His paw tapped the paper.

I read the fine print out loud. “Ceremonies are not legally valid. No marriage licenses will be provided.”

Marshmallow withdrew his paw. “Is it saying that people don’t actually get married at this chapel?”

I read the brochure from cover to cover before folding it neatly. “Yes, this chapel specializes in pretend weddings. So that’s why Marina was talking about it being a sham.”

Marshmallow hissed. “Uh-huh. And she pinned the blame square on Brandon.”

“She did what?”

He wiggled his ears. “Weren’t you listening, Mimi?”

I blushed. “To be honest, I sort of tuned out.”

“She said Brandon was responsible for Helen’s death.”

“But how?” I asked.

“Apparently, he blew his top after Helen figured out his plan to ‘fake marry’ her.”

I snapped my fingers. “That does make sense. Marina’s on to something. Brandon could be the guy.”

Marshmallow bristled his fur. “You’re just saying that because it supports your hunch that Brandon’s at fault. Besides, wasn’t he talking about getting married for real, like on a surfboard? Why would he want her dead before they tied the knot?”

I adjusted my earbuds as a pedestrian passed by. “What if he lost it because Helen got cold feet? Remember, he’d wanted a surfer’s wedding. She changed it to a fake wedding instead. A lovers’ quarrel turned deadly.”

“Maybe.” Marshmallow licked his fur. “Or perhaps Marina’s trying to pull the wool over your eyes and throw Brandon under the bus.”

“Why would she do that?”

“So you don’t latch on to her as the culprit. Besides”—he swished his tail—“humans are natural-born liars.”

My phone pinged. “I don’t think so. Here’s somebody who always tells the truth. Josh.”

“Please. Even his name means ‘to joke.’”

I rolled my eyes at Marshmallow and focused on texting.

Josh: Figured out a way to understand what’s going on with your parents.

Me: There’s really no use.

Josh: I searched for recent divorce filings and . . . nada.

Me: What do you mean?

Josh: Nothing’s been served.

But there was an officiant. What was going on?

I thanked Josh but wondered about the strange situation. My dad had reserved the space for sure.

I’d better talk things over with my sister. In fact, maybe she’d have deeper insight into everything. In fact, hadn’t she stayed overnight with them after the disastrous Ultimate Date Night? My parents might have let something slip to her then.

Marshmallow meowed at me and read over my shoulder.

As he twitched his nose, I said, “Nothing filed. Strange, right? I’m going to close up shop a bit early and head over to Alice’s.”

“Can you make a pit stop first?” he asked. “Déjà Vu is en route to your sister’s place.”

“What? Why?”

Marshmallow studied me with his intense blue eyes. “Merlin was supposed to contact you about the mercury, remember?”

I blew out my breath. “I have other things on my mind right now.”

In a flash, Marshmallow had pounced on my phone and snatched it up with his mouth. The earbuds jerked away from me. “This is important,” he said. “It’s for Alice, so we can clear her name.”

“Blackmailer,” I said. With my phone as hostage, though, I agreed to his demands.

“All’s well that ends well,” he said, returning it to me.

“You know what, Marshmallow?” I said. “You’re plain clawful.”

He groaned, but from my pun, he knew I’d forgiven him.