“The kitchen is to the left,” Ford said, walking away from the fireplace and pointing the way. “The pool and patio area is on the other side of the dining room through the sliding glass doors, so it’ll be very convenient. You’ll notice we have a large refrigerator and freezer. Plus, you can use the walk-in pantry.”
“It might be nice to do the wedding on a patio outdoors,” DC said. I glanced back to see him studying all the family photos. Well, not all of them. Just the ones with the tiger.
I could almost see DC’s mind imagining a barbecue with a tiger. Despite being a very masculine police detective, at his core DC was a softie.
Briana and I went to the kitchen. Ford wasn’t exaggerating. The refrigerator was huge, and there was even a large window that opened up to the pool area. That would be handy.
Ford followed us into the kitchen. “There’s a full bar area with its own refrigerator and electrical outlets by the pool,” he added.
I went to the far end of the kitchen and opened the side door. Was this doorway wide enough for the cake?
Briana and I stepped out of the side door to see what the space on the side of the house was like. It looked big enough for a catering van to drive up. A pile of what appeared to be random household items sat stacked near the garbage cans.
Ford joined us outside. “How did those get there?” he grumbled. “I told Dad to make sure everything was cleared and ready.” He let out a few swearwords as he picked through the stuff. “Naturally, none of this will be here. I’ll check it myself. You have my word.”
“Thanks, Ford. And don’t worry, this is understandable. He must’ve been clearing stuff out to make room,” I said, wanting to calm him down.
“I cleared this place out years ago. I have no idea why he was hoarding broken pool tools and a vase and whatever this is. A bunch of paperwork. Where did this come from?” Ford muttered to himself as he rifled through the garbage. His mood change made me tense.
“Ford has never done well with things not being organized and orderly,” Briana whispered into my ear. Briana, even though she was like me and hated tension, always had an outwardly calm demeanor. “He means nothing by it, and you’re guaranteed to have everything right on your wedding day.”
As much as that was true, I was tension-averse, and I wanted to change the subject. “Ford, could a catering van pull all the way up here from the front of the house?” I asked.
He stopped going through the junk and turned his attention back to the logistics of the wedding.
“Yes, but it’ll probably be easier to use the side gate. It’s the same entrance the pool guy uses. It makes things easier. Guests in the front gate. Service vehicles through the side. No traffic.”
“That’ll be perfect. We’ve got a really large wedding cake, and I was worried about the stairs and getting it into the kitchen,” I said.
“You know, if this doorway isn’t wide enough, you can easily pull right up to the pool area, and then get it into the kitchen through the sliding glass doors. The arch entranceway from the open dining room is plenty high, and I’ll have them move the dining room table into the garage. So it’ll be all clear. Plus, guests can mingle, and when you need to eat after they leave, I can have it put back or you can have your crew do it.”
“That would be great,” I said. Ford was rolling out the red carpet for us.
“Is it okay if I go by the pool to see that statue?” DC asked, peeking out the kitchen door.
“Of course,” Ford said.
DC gave a thumbs up and headed back inside. We might finally have a place, and even if Mom invited more people, we’d still be able to make it happen here. The property was huge.
“What street is the side entrance on?” Briana asked.
“The entrance is off Veronica Way, but it’s more of an alleyway than a real street. You can see it just beyond those palm trees,” Ford said.
“I can’t seem to get the sliding glass doors unlocked,” DC said, popping his head out the side door again.
Ford shuffled around us. “I’ll get it for you.”
“We’re going to walk around this way so we can see the layout,” I called out to Ford.
“Meet you by the pool,” Ford said.
“Ford seems like a nice guy,” I said to Briana as we walked along the side of the house toward the backyard. “But I sense he’s got a bit of a temper.”
Briana laughed. “That’s an understatement, but he is a good guy. He’s really smart.”
“Maybe the two of you should go out sometime.” Briana had joined the San Fernando Mystery Readers’ Group about a year ago. Even though she was almost ten years younger than me, we had a lot in common. We’d both grown up as “mixed” kids back when that wasn’t as common as it is now. I was Filipino and white, and Briana was half Black and half white.
“Ford and I are never going to happen. We’ve known each other too long, and he’s not my type,” she said.
“What’s your type?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Your standard Scotsman who loves me as I travel through time,” she joked.
“I’m the only person who hasn’t read that book or seen the series, but I love the guy who—”
“Dad!” Ford shouted from the backyard.
The sound of something splashing hard into the pool followed.
Briana and I ran to see what was going on.
When we got to the pool, we saw DC soaking wet, dragging a very pale, speedo-clad Cal Warrington up the steps of the pool with Ford’s help.
“Call 911!” DC yelled to me, but I’d already pulled out my phone.
I gave the emergency operator the address as DC attempted to resuscitate Ford’s father.
“The ladies told me this happened to you, but I didn’t believe it was really true,” Briana whispered to me after I got off the phone.
“What?” I asked.
“You find dead bodies.”
2
The police and the coroner arrived. There was also a fire truck—I never really understood why that happens, but it always does. After the police interviewed Briana and me, DC walked us to the front of the house.
“Listen,” DC said. “Most drownings are an accident, so please don’t get any crazy ideas. You can see where he must’ve slipped and hit his head and fell into the pool. The man was in his nineties, for crying out loud.”
“I understand,” I said. “I don’t want to make a fuss.”
DC gave me a nod of appreciation. This kind of thing had been a real problem early in our relationship.
“Thanks, babe. Listen, I’ve got to finish up here.” DC said.
“Do you need me to bring you back some dry clothes?” I asked.
“I’ve got one of your Mom’s shirts in the truck. That water was freezing,” he said. DC turned to Briana. “Can you give her a ride home?”
“I’m supposed to meet Mom at the Lucky Dragon for the book club,” I said.
“I know, I’m the treasurer, remember?” Briana reassured me. She’d been helpful and and surprisingly calm in the face of all that happened. “And it’s no problem. We can go to the restaurant, and I can drop you off at home after.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Mom might need a ride, too. Or you can just drop me off at home and I can pick up the van.”
“I’ll let you two work it out. I better get back,” DC said as he gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Now I know you’re going to the mystery book club thing, but don’t get them all riled up and start talking about this as a case. If you can, don’t mention this. Focus on the book of the month and the wedding planning.”
“The wedding!” I gasped. I’d forgotten all about talking to Ford about the cost. This was the only venue available. Otherwise we might have to do it at that terrible lodge. “Do you think we’ll still be able to do it here?”
The moment I said it, I realized I sounded callous.
“Maybe we’ll be able to get a discount,” DC said.
I stared at him.<
br />
“I didn’t mean to say that,” he said.
I traded a glance with Briana. She’d heard it, but she gave me an I’m-not-judging-you look. A non-judgmental bridesmaid was the best brand of bridesmaid.
I whispered into DC’s ear, “Here’s the deposit from Mom,” sliding the check in his hand. “If it comes up, tell him we’ll take it.”
DC nodded, pocketed the check, and headed back inside.
Briana and I walked to her silver Corolla. “This is bananas,” Briana said. “I feel bad for Ford, but I can’t believe that really just happened.”
“Me neither,” I said, and wondered exactly how I was supposed to keep this whole dead body thing from getting out of control.
“You of all people can’t believe it?” Briana asked as we got to the car.
I shrugged. “I know it’s happened to me a lot, but I thought it would never happen again. It kind of puts a strain on DC and me with him being a police detective. So once it got serious with him, I was kind of glad it stopped happening.”
“That’s understandable,” Briana said as she started the car.
We fell into a comfortable silence as she drove. I couldn’t help but think back on how much my life had changed since my ex-husband had left, and I’d moved back in with Mom. I wondered if my ex even knew that I was getting married. I hadn’t talked to him since our divorce. I had just one co-writing credit on his one singular hit, “Got a Match.”
Since then, I’d written a few other songs, but had done little with them. There was talk of starting an open mic at the Mocha Muse on Main Street. My Filipino “cousin” Dar-dar, who also lived with us, ran the cafe.
It only took ten minutes for us to drive down the hill, get onto the 210 freeway, and exit Maclay bound for Fletcher Canyon. The small town, deep in the San Fernando Valley, was far in the outskirts of Los Angeles.
It’d been a little over two years since I’d moved back to Fletcher Canyon. I’d finally worked out a lot of my insecurities, had fallen in love with a guy who actually cared about me and loved me back, and truly enjoyed running my small business.
With Mom’s acting success and all the publicity we’d gotten from the crimes we’d solved, I’d been able to hire people to handle the cooking part of our catering business, which specialized in doing murder mystery nights.
“If it’s any consolation, I think you’ll still get the venue for the wedding,” Briana said, breaking the silence. “Ford’s dad needed the money to pay taxes, and the dealership isn’t doing as well as it used to from what Ford tells me.”
“I hope so. I really don’t want to get married at that lodge.”
“Looks like we’re going to be about a little early,” Briana said as she turned onto Main Street. There were a few more shops on Main Street, and with the trolley—which wasn’t really a trolley but a bus made up to look like a trolley—bringing students from Mission College every half hour, business had picked up for all the restaurants.
It was spring, so the trees were nice and green, as was the hillside at the top of the street.
“We’ve got to make sure news of Cal’s death doesn’t get spread around the entire town,” I said. Fletcher Canyon was the town where everybody knew everything about everybody.
“Do you want the other members of book club to know? Jerri told me they really helped you and your mom solve some crimes,” Briana said as she pulled up to a meter just two doors down from the Lucky Dragon Chinese restaurant.
“They did. They know a lot about murder. I never want to get on the wrong side of a group of mystery readers,” I joked.
“Do you think there’s a chance that it wasn’t an accident? Didn’t Ford mention something about talking to your mom about a mystery?” Briana asked me.
“I don’t think so, but Mom’s really the Sherlock of the group,” I said, stepping out of the car and searching my purse for change.
“I don’t think it was an accident,” Briana said as she rifled through her purse for change as well.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, shoving the nickel and dimes I found at the bottom of my bag into the meter.
“Because I want to be part of the mystery,” Briana said.
I laughed. As much as I’d enjoyed solving mysteries with Mom, I hoped Mom would understand this was an accident.
Between the two of us digging for change, we got two hours on the meter. I set the alarm on my phone to avoid getting a ticket.
I realized maybe it would be a bad idea to tell Wenling, Mom’s best friend and the owner of the Lucky Dragon. Everyone came to Wenling for gossip, and now that her daughter, Jennifer, was running the restaurant, Wenling was bored. Wenling would want to pursue the case. If it was indeed a case, that is.
“It’s probably a good idea we don’t tell—” I started to say to Briana before Wenling interrupted me. She was standing at the doorway of the restaurant, waving for us to hurry. She was wearing an “I gotta go” t-shirt.
“Everyone will be here soon!” she said. “I have your diet soda already out.”
“The book club doesn’t start until two,” I said.
“Yes, I know. But I need to hear about the dead body before they get here,” Wenling said.
“What the?” I mumbled. Like I said, Fletcher Canyon was the type of town where everyone knew everything.
“That was my bad,” Briana said.
I shot her a questioning look.
“Wenling texted me to ask me when the dress fitting was while you were talking to the police. I told her what was happening. This was before DC said to not get involved. I assumed you guys sort of always did this kind of thing.”
“It was an accident,” I said to Wenling. I knew she’d gotten my soda ready early so we could get caffeined up and talk murder, but there wasn’t a murder.
“Did you take any photos?” Wenling asked.
“No,” I said. A part of me wished I had taken pictures. Not of the dead body, but of the actual venue for the wedding.
Briana said, “I took a few pictures on the sly.”
“You can sit next to me,” Wenling said, guiding Briana to the side of the restaurant that was usually closed for lunch. It was where we held our book club meetings.
“I should text Mom and find out if she’ll be done with her diaper promotion in time to come to the meeting or if I’ll meet her back home,” I said as I took my seat and reached for my diet soda.
“I texted her, she says they’ll drop her off. She should be here soon,” Wenling said.
“I’m pretty sure she’s here.” Briana motioned to the window.
I turned to see Mom sitting on a motorcycle strapped to the bed of a truck like a mini parade float going down Main Street. The truck cruised by with Mom waving at everyone.
“That’s not safer at all,” I said, rushing to the window.
The truck stopped, and Mom climbed off the motorcycle and picked up a large gun-like tube. People gathered around. She must’ve arrived right after the trolley-bus stopped in front of the Mocha Muse Cafe two doors down.
“T-shirt cannon!” Wenling yelled and rushed out the front door to jockey for a t-shirt.
“She already has a shirt,” Briana said.
“Yes, but I think Wenling wants to see people get shot with the cannon,” I explained.
Mom aimed the cannon at the cheering crowd.
“Let’s go see all the fun. It looks like some women from the book club are out there,” Briana said as she headed to the front door.
Then I remembered. I hadn’t told Wenling not to tell anyone about Cal Warrington’s death. I needed to stop her.
3
Mom’s impromptu Main Street appearance died down. The truck had left, but Mom was out on the sidewalk posing for pictures with people on sidewalk as the book club came inside.
Luckily, Wenling had been too competitive in chasing down free merch to spread any gossip.
Briana held the door open for Wenling, whose arms were filled with a
box of adult diapers, a travel coffee mug, more free t-shirts, and other swag.
“You know Mom would’ve just given all that to you,” I said to Wenling.
“It’s not just getting the free stuff, it’s beating other people to it that counts,” Wenling explained.
“I’ll help you carry this to the office.” I took the big box of diapers from Wenling’s hands.
“I better get to the other side to prepare to give the treasury report,” Briana said.
“Briana!” I called. She rushed over. “Tell no one about Cal’s death. I want to keep it on the down low for as long as possible.”
“Gotcha,” Briana said. “You better tell Wenling that.” Briana motioned with her head to Wenling, who was already talking to a patron at the restaurant.
“I know.” I rushed to Wenling’s side to stop her from gossiping about the body.
“You missed all the fun outside?” Wenling asked. “That’s too bad. There was so much good stuff.”
Wenling showed off all the swag she’d gotten.
“Let’s get this in the office before the meeting starts,” I said to her.
“Yes, I won too many things to keep it all at the table,” Wenling bragged as we headed for the kitchen door and to the little office in the corner.
Once I got Wenling alone, I made her promise not to tell anyone about Cal’s death. It was surprisingly easy to convince her. She didn’t want to risk anyone else getting to do the “fun stuff.”
The meeting went as normal. We discussed this month’s book. Wenling joined in the discussion even though she never read the book. We picked next month’s book and then socialized.
After it was over, Wenling hurried everyone out. Relief washed over me. I needed to talk to Mom.
We gathered at our usual booth in the back of the closed side of the restaurant. Mom sat next to me, and Briana sat next to Wenling.
“So how did the venue work out?” Mom asked. “All set?”
“No, she found another dead body. We have to solve the case,” Wenling blurted.
“Aye, no! That’s going to ruin the wedding!” Mom said. “Did you at least give him the deposit and sign the contract first?”
Wedding Cake and Widows: A Comedy Cozy Mystery (Mom and Christy's Cozy Mysteries Book 8) Page 2