Wedding Cake and Widows: A Comedy Cozy Mystery (Mom and Christy's Cozy Mysteries Book 8)

by Christy Murphy

  “Yep, just push the button,” he said.

  I pushed the button. The car started. Fear struck in my heart. The idea of having to pay for this car if I got into an accident made my anxiety rise.

  “How do you see out of this thing?” I asked.

  “You’re way too young for that question,” Derek joked. “Or you look amazing for your age.”

  “I’m thirty-seven,” I said, liking the guy despite myself.

  “So you’re both,” he flattered.

  “You’re good,” I said with a laugh. “I’ve only driven ancient cars.”

  “A fellow classic car enthusiast, I see. Slip it in reverse and the camera will come on,” Derek said, pointing to the screen on the dash.

  “Does this have a good safety rating?” Wenling called out from the back.

  Derek chuckled again. I couldn’t help it. I liked the guy. He had a very easy laugh, which calmed my nerves.

  “The best safety rating in the business,” he said to Wenling.

  I slipped the car into reverse; the camera came on. I took way too long to make sure that no one was anywhere near us and then pulled out.

  The SUV inched toward the car right next to us. In a panic, I braked hard.

  Wenling groaned.

  “Great reflexes,” Derek said, looking calm. He impressed me. “If you ever want to know if the wheel is straight, all you have to do is turn it all the way in one direction and then turn it back one full turn and then another three-quarter turn until you see the logo right side up.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Do it,” he said. “It’s like a combination lock.”

  I did as he said, and the car pulled straight back.

  “I can’t believe no one ever told me that,” I said.

  He smiled. “People tell that to me all the time.”

  “That’s very clever,” Mom said. “You’ve only been working for Cal for seven years?”

  “That’s just at this location,” Derek said. “I started with Cal at the Santa Monica location, and then I moved to this one.”

  “Why did you leave the first place?” Wenling asked.

  “It was on the Westside, and I wanted to buy a house that wasn’t a trillion dollars,” Derek joked.

  I pulled out of the lot and turn right onto Sepulveda. The back tires of the SUV nicked the curb.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Derek said.

  “Who was that you were talking to inside?” Wenling blurted out from the backseat.

  “You saw that?” Derek asked. “That was nothing.”

  “It looked like something,” Wenling said, egging him on.

  I would’ve glanced in the rearview mirror to see what Mom thought of Wenling’s bold question, but I was too busy being worried about crashing a very expensive SUV.

  “You can change lanes,” he said.

  “I don’t think I have enough space,” I said.

  “If you can see both headlights in your side-view mirror and you’re going the same speed of the car you’re trying to pass, you’ve got enough room to make it,” Derek said, then looked into the rearview mirror to address Wenling. “The guy in there was nobody,” Derek continued. “I doubt he’ll even be working here much longer. Not that he really worked here.”

  “That’s definitely a story,” Mom said.

  Derek chuckled. I managed to lane change and was surprised at how easy it was with Derek’s tip.

  “You should teach people how to drive,” I said.

  “I used to, but it doesn’t pay as well as selling cars,” Derek replied.

  I laughed. “Maybe you can give me lessons.”

  “Buy this car and I’ll give you all the free lessons you want,” he said. “You don’t need much. You’re fine.”

  “So why was that guy going to get fired?” Wenling asked from the backseat.

  “He was Cal’s personal assistant. But now the guy wants a job working here. I didn’t like it when he started meddling in the dealership business in the first place,” Derek said. “The guy knows nothing about cars, let alone being a buyer for us. He should just stick to picking up Mr. Warrington’s dry cleaning.”

  “It sounds like you didn’t like him much,” Mom said.

  “I didn’t,” Derek admitted. “But I can work with people I don’t like. Anyway, it’s not worth getting into.”

  “Then we have to get into it!” Wenling shouted from the back.

  Derek shook his head. “She’s too much. Make a left here on Ventura unless you want to see what it’s like to drive this up the hill.”

  As much as I didn’t want to change lanes, I did not want to take this vehicle onto the canyon. I signaled, checked my side mirror, and merged into the turn lane.

  “See,” Derek said. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  I had to admit this vehicle was easier to drive, better than the van. Although, I would imagine a Flintstones vehicle was easier to drive than that van.

  “You were saying about Cal’s assistant,” Mom said.

  “Well, I wasn’t,” Derek said with a laugh. He looked at Mom in the rearview mirror and continued, “Let’s just say I can work with somebody I don’t like. But I can’t work with somebody I don’t trust. There’s something about that guy that just isn’t right.”

  “Do you think he’s stealing?” Mom asked.

  “Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?” Derek asked me.

  “There’s a Taco Bell a bit further down, isn’t there?” Dar interrupted. “I feel shaky weird. I’ve only eaten wedding cake all day.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Derek said. “Do you want to hit the drive-through?”

  “I think tacos are a little hard to eat in a new car that we haven’t bought yet,” I said.

  “It’s a used car,” Darwin interjected.

  “It’s new to me,” I said.

  Dar chuckled.

  “How about a burger? The drive-through to this McDonald’s is way wider than most,” Derek suggested.

  Did he know that my taco mess excuse was really just my fear of driving this large vehicle through a tight drive thru? Regardless, a burger sounded great to me.

  I made a left across traffic, surprised that I wasn’t panicked, and headed into the McDonald’s drive-through.

  “This gives me a chance to show you the cup holders,” he said.

  I laughed. Always selling.

  “So do you think Cal’s assistant was stealing?” Mom asked.

  “That’s a huge accusation to make, so I’m not going to do that,” Derek answered.

  “Very diplomatic,” Wenling said.

  We picked up our burgers and headed back to the dealership. Derek told us more about the car and was ready to lead us to the convertible.

  “I think I have to see that another time,” Wenling said. “I have to talk to my husband first.”

  “And she doesn’t drive,” Darwin added.

  “You don’t need to drive to buy yourself a nice ride—especially a convertible. The passenger sometimes is the one who enjoys it the most,” Derek said.

  Wenling shot Darwin an I told you so look.

  “So what do you think? Can you see yourself driving home with this?” Derek asked.

  Mom turned to me. “How does it drive, kid?”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but the car drove great. “Don’t you think you should be the one to test drive it?”

  “The seats adjust with a touch of a button. Let’s give it another spin,” Derek said to Mom.

  “Next time we’ll do that,” Mom said. “Our friend Ford said he would get us a discount on our car. So I guess I’ll find out what we can get through him and then come back and buy from you.”

  “You’re a friend of Ford Warrington?” Derek asked.

  I was surprised Mom had mentioned that, and I felt a little bad not saying that upfront to Derek. He might not have revealed everything he had if he’d known.

  “Yes, my daughter is getting marri
ed, and she’s having the ceremony at their house,” Mom said.

  “Oh, so you’re good friends with Ford. Do me a favor?” Derek said.

  “Do you want us to not tell him about the assistant?” Mom asked.

  “No, the contrary. Tell him about the assistant. As a matter of fact, there’re some things going on here that I think Ford should know about,” Derek said.

  “Like what?” Wenling asked.

  “We can talk about this at another time,” he said. “But I definitely need to tell Ford some things.” He gave Mom his card and wrote his number on the back. “Tell him to call me.”

  He handed a copy of his card to Wenling as well. “And definitely call me, because I’ve got a fantastic convertible for you to test drive. What’s your favorite color?”

  “My favorite color is green, but I want a red convertible,” Wenling answered.

  “A woman after my own heart,” Derek said. His attention shifted to something happening at the end of our row of cars.

  Another salesperson was taking someone for a test drive.

  “He’s not paying attention,” Derek said under his breath.

  Derek sprinted across the parking lot.

  “No!” Derek yelled, waving his hands to get the vehicle to stop.

  The vehicle didn’t stop, and it almost ran Derek over. I realized that the vehicle was in reverse, but the person looked like they were an even worse driver than me.

  “Stop!” Derek yelled to the car.

  The brake lights came on, and the car stopped. It was just inches from another car.

  “That was close,” Briana gasped.

  The reverse lights went off, and the car continued toward the exit of the lot, but just as it made a left, it clipped—well, hit—our van.

  “I think your trade-in value just dropped,” Wenling said.

  9

  I exhaled as I entered my bedroom. It’d been a long day, and there was way too much to think about.

  I had to add “settle insurance claim” to my long list of things to do.

  Even though it was only 9 o’clock, I got ready for bed. Just as I slid off my sneakers, my phone rang. It was DC.

  “How did it go today?” he asked.

  “It went,” I said.

  “The fitting didn’t go well?”

  It felt like it had been a million years since the fitting. “That part was fine.”

  “Then what part went wrong?” DC asked.

  I didn’t know where to start. “It’s not that anything went wrong except for the woman who ran into our van.”

  “What woman? Is everyone okay?” DC asked.

  “We weren’t in the van. Everyone’s fine. We were looking at the SUV.”

  “You’re going to have to back up and explain a few things to me,” he said.

  “It’s a long story.” I sighed.

  “Can’t do a long story, babe,” DC said. “I’ve got to work late tonight, and I just wanted to call you to say goodbye before it’s too late.”

  “Well, to sum up, it wasn’t our fault. The van was parked. Everyone’s okay. Mom might buy an SUV because Ford is giving us a discount.”

  “Do you think he can give me a discount on a truck?” DC asked.

  I never thought DC would get rid of his old truck. “It seems like he’s doing that for everyone else. Do you want to buy a truck?”

  “I don’t know if I need another truck, Mine may be old, but it still gets the job done. It was just something to think about,” DC said.

  “I’m sure Mom and Ford will stay in touch. I think he might be coming to our wedding,” I said.

  “That’s great. Do you think we’ll get a discount on the venue?”

  I exhaled. This was where I needed to tell DC the truth. I heard someone in the background call him.

  “Babe, I gotta go,” DC said.

  I wondered if he realized he’d just used Mom’s catchphrase.

  We said our I love yous and goodbyes.

  Exhausted, I flopped onto the bed.

  There was way too much to think about. An additional fifty guests, helping Mom buy a new vehicle, the dented van, the cake, and of course, telling DC about being back in the mystery game.

  But for now, I figured I could handle it all much better with some sleep. I got up, headed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and finished getting ready for bed.

  I slid under the covers, turned out the light on my bedside table, and tried to force my mind to relax.

  One thought jumped into my brain. Was Mom quitting the catering business? It never even occurred to me that I’d wanted to stay in the business when Mom wouldn’t. Did I? As I faded off to sleep, I resolved to talk it over with Mom first thing in the morning.

  10

  I drove to the Lucky Dragon in our dented van, relieved. The whirlwind of the last month had slowed to just the occasional hectic gust.

  The van had been “totaled” according to the insurance company. We received a check in the mail for the resale value of the vehicle in lieu of repairs. It wasn’t enough to fix the dent, but the dent was small and didn’t interfere with the operation of the vehicle.

  Mom had avoided my questions about the future of our catering business for a solid month. It bothered me, but I couldn’t get worked up about it. With all the wedding plans, I’d avoided telling DC about our case.

  In my defense, the case seemed wrapped up. How?

  Mom had arranged for Ford and Derek to meet so he could tell Ford what was going on at the dealership.

  Between the two of them, they’d figured out something had been going with cars being bought at auction at exaggerated prices. But more importantly, the funny business had stopped. Afterward, Ford called to thank us for helping him. It seemed like we hadn’t done much, but Ford was happy.

  Later, I realized that when DC and I had spoken, he’d thought that we’d gone to the dealership because someone had hit our van. But by the time I realized that he’d misunderstood, we’d been busy with the wedding plans and too much time had passed. Was that hiding something? Or was that me just being lazy?

  Regardless, Mom said she had something important to tell me, so I figured we’d finally talk about the catering business. I prayed Mom didn’t want to alter the guest list again. She promised the official guest count would remain at 304.

  Briana had been an amazing help in the last month. We’d squared away all the catering for the guests except the cake. And we’d arranged carpools for people coming in from out of town.

  Most people were flying in to LAX, and it was hard to explain to them just how long it takes to get from LAX all the way to Fletcher Canyon, even though it only looks like 45 miles on a map.

  I parked behind the Lucky Dragon and entered through the back door in the kitchen. The familiar smell of peanut oil and fried noodles made me smile.

  What would my new life look like after I got married? Would Mom and I still have a business? Would I still spend my afternoons here at the restaurant with my laptop?

  Even though I was excited to get married, every once in a while a pang of sadness would strike me. I’d miss living with Mom and Dar-dar. How much would life change?

  I headed toward our usual booth on the close side of the restaurant, snagging a Diet Coke from the kitchen along the way.

  When I entered the room, a chorus of people shouted, “Surprise!”

  Startled, I jumped and spilled Diet Coke on my t-shirt.

  The restaurant was packed.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Mom as I went to the booth and grabbed some napkins out of the holder to wipe my t-shirt.

  “It’s your bachelorette party!” Mom said. “We’re going to Vegas!”

  The crowd cheered.

  That’s when I spotted through the window a bus parked outside. Not a small bus, a full on coach that looked the size of a Greyhound.

  “Mom,” I whispered as she hugged me. “Who are all these people?”

  “To get the bus to take us to Ve
gas, we needed more people. Most of the guests aren’t in town yet. So I combined my promo duties for the diaper company with your bachelorette party. They paid for the party as long as we all wear the shirts!”

  “Oh,” I said.

  That’s when I realized everybody was wearing “I gotta go” t-shirts.

  “Here’s your t-shirt,” Mom said, showing me the “I gotta go” logo on the front and on the back “to Christy’s bachelorette party in Vegas!”

  Mom handed me the t-shirt, and I couldn’t help but smile. Well, at least we weren’t going over budget.

  “How long are we going to be in Vegas?” I asked Mom. It was almost noon.

  “Tonight, all tomorrow, and then we’ll drive back the next day in the morning,” Mom said.

  My mind flipped through the tons of stuff that I had to do for the wedding.

  Briana approached Mom and me. “I’ve made sure everything is handled, and I’ve got everyone in my phone with my number as the emergency number just in case.”

  “Nothing to worry about at all,” Mom said. “Just relax, gamble, and enjoy.”

  They thought of everything. And, of course, my brain thought of the buffets in Vegas. I’d done my last fitting for the wedding gown, and it surprised me that I’d stayed the same weight for four months. Would my dress still fit if I hit the buffet?

  Mom handed me my t-shirt.

  “You’d better change,” Briana said. “We packed a bag for you. It’s already on the bus.”

  “And diet soda, too,” Mom said.

  Between Mom and Briana, I knew they’d packed a better bag than I would’ve done myself. They’d thought of everything. Sure, I was headed to Vegas with senior citizens, wearing an adult diaper t-shirt, but this was going to be a blast!

  Briana called out to the crowd, “The bus leaves in five minutes! Everybody board now.”

  “Come on, ladies,” Dar encouraged. I hadn’t seen him in the crowd, but I was glad he was here. “We’ve got dinner passes at seven, and we want to get everyone checked in first. We have a rest stop in three and a half hours, but you all have your diapers if you can’t hold it.”