Twice as Dead

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  Innis Casey Photography

  About the Author

  Like the character Odelia Grey, Sue Ann Jaffarian is a middle-aged, plus-size paralegal. In addition to the Odelia Grey mystery series, she is the author of the paranormal Ghost of Granny Apples mystery series and the Madison Rose Vampire mystery series. Sue Ann is also nationally sought after as a motivational and humorous speaker. She lives and works in Los Angeles, California.

  Other titles in the Odelia Grey series include Too Big to Miss (2006), The Curse of the Holy Pail (2007), Thugs and Kisses (2008), Booby Trap (2009), and Corpse on the Cob (2010).

  Visit Sue Ann on the Internet at www.sueannjaffarian.com and www.sueannjaffarian.blogspot.com

  Twice As Dead: An Odelia Grey Mystery © 2011 by Sue Ann Jaffarian.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Midnight Ink, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First e-book edition © 2011

  E-book ISBN: 9780738732220

  Book design by Donna Burch

  Cover design by Ellen Lawson

  Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

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  Midnight Ink

  Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

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  Manufactured in the United States of America

  For Lynne DeVenny Craig,

  the paralegal’s paralegal.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks again to the usual suspects, who were never more than a phone call or e-mail away during this journey:

  Whitney Lee, my agent

  Diana James, my manager

  Terri Bischoff, my acquisitions editor

  And thank you to all the wonderful people at Midnight Ink/Llewellyn Worldwide who have worked very hard to make every book a dream come true.

  I eyed the thick wooden coat hanger with suspicion, poised as it was to do serious damage to my skull.

  “Put that damn thing down before you hurt someone,” I demanded. “Namely me.”

  “I’m warning you, Odelia.” My assailant’s eyes were glazed with menace. “You take one step outside this room, and I’ll knock you unconscious. I swear I will.”

  The door to the cloakroom flung open, surprising both of us. From beyond the door, we could hear the band playing “Achy Breaky Heart.” Even though I’m as uncoordinated as an elephant in a tutu, at that moment I would have given a kidney to be on the dance floor doing the Electric Slide with assorted bridesmaids and wedding guests.

  “What in the hell is going on here?” demanded Seth. He snatched the hanger from his wife’s hands. “Zenobia Washington, have you lost your ever-loving mind?” His question was presented in the hushed voice of a really ticked-off librarian, not that of an experienced lawyer. Behind him was Jacob Washington, Seth and Zee’s college-age son. Now as tall as his father, he stood looking at his mother and me like we were circus freaks—which might not be that far from the truth, given the current circumstances.

  “Actually, Seth, her insanity is a teensy bit justified.” I held up my right hand with my thumb and index finger about an inch apart to add emphasis to my words.

  Seth’s mouth dropped open. “She was about to club you, and you’re defending her?”

  After straightening up from my defensive crouch, I smoothed the wrinkles out of my ice-blue lace cocktail dress and studied Zee. She looked fabulous in her champagne silk tea-length mother-of-the-bride dress, though I doubt the designer foresaw the dress being accessorized with a weapon. Now Zee had her hands on her ample hips in her signature stance of intimidation, which ruined the flowing lines of the garment. Since we’re both short and fat and wear a size 20, I wondered, not for the first time, if she’d let me borrow the dress for my in-laws’ fiftieth anniversary party in two months. Something told me now would not be a good time to ask.

  “Of course I’m defending her.” I kept my own voice down in case someone was passing in the hallway. “She’s my best friend, and she had her reasons.” I glanced over at Zee, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Even if her method was a bit barbaric. Still, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have done the same.”

  Seth shifted on his feet and pulled at the collar of his tuxedo shirt. He looked from his wife to me, waiting for an explanation. “Are either of you going to tell me what this is about?”

  Jacob started to say something, but his mother cut him off. “She was going to ruin Hannah’s wedding.” Hannah being Seth and Zee’s daughter.

  I felt my hackles rise. “I would never dream of doing such a thing, and you know it.”

  Seth turned to Jacob. “Go find Greg. Tell him I need his assistance. Don’t say why.”

  “And miss this?” Jacob crossed his arms in front of him, settling in for the show.

  Seth leveled his paternal glare at the young man. “I said, go find Greg. Do it now.”

  After a few seconds’ hesitation, Jacob caved, giving in to years of good upbringing. “Okay, but don’t move the body till I get back.”

  As Jacob dashed out the door, Seth turned to me. He started to say something, then his open mouth clamped shut so hard I heard his upper and lower molars collide. He turned to his wife, his dark face incredulous, silently begging her to say it wasn’t true. Zee’s dark eyes met his. She nodded, confirming his worst fears.

  When Seth turned back to me, I took two steps to my left and cast my eyes slightly behind me. Seth’s eyes followed mine.

  There, half hidden, was the dead body of a woman.

  We were at a local private club, standing in a fair-sized room with no windows. During cooler months, the room was used as a cloakroom. Portable clothing racks, their sturdy wooden hangers dangling like soldiers at the ready, lined the walls on either side of the door. The room was slightly L-shaped, with a small alcove to the right. Against the back wall of the alcove stood several stacks of large plastic storage containers. From the view afforded by the opaque plastic, most were full. The only entry into the room was a Dutch door—a door split in two horizontally so that the top portion could be opened with the bottom half remaining shut. Right now, the top and bottom portions were latched together. Seth had closed the door after Jacob had gone in search of Greg Stevens, my husband.

  Hmmm, my husband. It was anyone’s guess what he was going to say about this latest turn of events. Dead bodies find me like flies zeroing in on dog poop, though it had been over a year and a half since I’d stumbled upon the last body—a point I was ready to make if the subject came up, as I w
as sure it would.

  Without stepping forward, Seth leaned the top part of his torso toward the stiff. “You sure she’s dead? Maybe we should be calling 9-1-1.”

  The dead woman was sitting on the floor, her back against a stack of containers. Her legs were spread in a V, the straight skirt of her bronze silk suit hiked up mid-thigh. She’d been neither slim nor fat, with long, muscular legs. Her feet, clad in open-toed high heels, ended with toes painted a muted rose. The same colored lacquer adorned her fingernails. Around her neck was an expensive-looking gold necklace. At her ears, diamond studs. On her wrist, a designer watch. Whatever had happened, it was easy to see it hadn’t been a robbery.

  The woman’s dark blond hair contained pale highlights and was nearly shoulder-length, the ends turned under in a slight pageboy. It partially hid her face, which was square-shaped with a slightly crooked nose. She would have been described as a handsome woman—the term used when a woman isn’t necessarily pretty but is still very attractive. Her brows were carefully cultivated. Her makeup was meticulous, though a bit on the heavy side for my personal taste. She could have been taken for anywhere between thirty-five and fifty years old. It was clear that in life the woman had taken very good care of herself and had spent considerable time and money in salons of one type or another.

  But was she dead?

  One look into her cornflower-blue eyes, wide and staring at nothing, and her slack jaw, open in silent song, and there was no doubt that any call to 9-1-1 would be in vain.

  “I checked for a pulse,” I told Seth. “Nothing.” Pointing down to the floor, I indicated the small pool of blood she was sitting in. “There’s a knife in her left side, just under her breast. But I don’t think she’s been dead very long.”

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Seth opened it with caution, relieved to find Greg on the other side. After opening the door as wide as it could go, Seth stepped back to make room for Greg to enter in his wheelchair. Jacob was behind him.

  “Go back out there and keep an eye on things,” Seth told his son.

  “But Dad, I want to see what happens.”

  “We can’t have your sister wondering why we’re all missing. Go back out there,” Seth ordered again. “Act like nothing’s wrong. Say nothing to anyone. You got that?”

  When Jacob hesitated, Zee stepped up to him. “You want your sister’s wedding ruined?”

  With reluctance, Jacob left to keep the party going and his sister in the dark.

  “What’s going on?” Greg asked after Jacob left and the door was shut tight again. I had stepped in front of the corpse, hoping to ward off the initial shock and outcry from Greg on seeing it for the first time.

  “We have a situation, Greg.” Seth forced his voice to remain calm.

  Zee looked at Greg, then at me, her soulful eyes full of unspoken but loud explanation.

  Greg looked up at me. “What’s going on?” His voice wasn’t tender but direct, like he knew what was coming and didn’t want to hear it.

  “I had nothing to do with this, Greg. Honest.” I stepped aside. When his eyes found the body on the floor, he went white.

  “Not again,” Greg said in a small voice. He looked up from the body to me. “I thought this was all behind us, Odelia. It’s been so long since …” His voice trailed off.

  “Since I found that body in the cornfield? Yeah, yeah, I know.

  I thought it was over, too.”

  I looked at the three faces of the people I loved most—Greg, Zee, and Seth—and felt like I was on trial. Odelia Patience Grey, aka the corpse magnet. I was feeling compelled to plead my case, and not liking it one bit. The gloves came off.

  “Hey, it’s not just me, you know. Zee was with me when I found the body. She’s just as involved.”

  “Me?” Zee pointed a finger at herself. “The only time I see dead bodies is when I’m with you, Odelia. Couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow?”

  “Waited?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “You think I planted this corpse?”

  “No, but you’re the one who wanted to call the police, and right in the middle of my baby girl’s wedding.” Zee’s voice cracked during the last three words, letting us know she was barely containing hysteria.

  “Okay, everyone,” Greg said, wheeling deeper into the middle of the room. He looked down at the body. “You’re sure she’s dead?”

  “Yes!” came a trio of muffled shouts.

  “Zee and I came in here,” I started to explain, “to get away for a few minutes. She was exhausted and needed some downtime away from everyone. The ladies’ lounge was packed, then I remembered this cloakroom.” Before continuing, I swallowed the bile invading my throat. “We were here a couple of minutes before I smelled something not right. When I poked my head into this little niche, I found the body, just as it is now.”

  “She wanted to call the police!” Zee told them in horror, like that was the real crime at hand.

  “But we have to call the police, Zee.” I pointed toward the door. “Someone out there probably killed this poor woman.”

  Zee looked even more horrified. “Certainly you don’t think one of our guests did this?”

  “Not necessarily, but someone did—and there are almost three hundred suspects out there right now. The police need to get here ASAP.”

  “More than three hundred if you count the band, waitstaff, and caterers,” added Greg.

  “You’re not helping, Greg,” Seth snapped at him.

  Greg looked from Seth to Zee. “I’m afraid I have to side with Odelia on this. The police must be called.”

  Zee started tearing up. “But not at this very minute. Can’t we wait until Hannah and Rob leave the reception? It should be very soon. When Jacob found us, it was to tell me Hannah was changing into her honeymoon clothes.”

  Looking at Seth, Greg asked, “What do you say, Counselor?”

  Seth hemmed and hawed. “This is my daughter’s wedding. You can hardly expect me to be objective.”

  Greg pressed, “But what legal obligations do we have?”

  Seth took a deep breath and ran a hand over his ruggedly handsome face, which now sagged with weariness. “We don’t have to report it. But as Odelia said, someone out there probably killed her. The sooner the police get here, the better.”

  There was a soft knock, followed by Jacob opening the door a few inches. “Hannah’s looking for you, Mom.” As he spoke to his mother, he craned his neck to glance at the corpse. “She’s changed, and they’re about to leave. They want to say goodbye to you and Dad.”

  Zee looked at Seth. “As soon as they’re gone, we can call the police. We can ask everyone to remain—tell them it’s for a final toast or something.”

  Seth thought it over, then turned to me. “Odelia, instead of calling the police, why don’t you call Detective Frye directly? Tell him what’s happened. We’re in Newport Beach, so it’s his jurisdiction, and I’d feel better having someone we know handling this from the beginning. By the time he rallies his troops, we’ll have Hannah and Rob on their way.” He looked at each of us. Greg, Jacob, and I nodded, on board with his plan. Only Zee looked unsure.

  “I feel awkward calling Detective Frye,” Zee said. “After all, I didn’t invite him to the wedding.”

  Her husband stared at her like she’d lost her mind for the second time in less than twenty minutes. “I don’t think the good detective will hold a grudge, dear.”

  As Seth guided Zee and Jacob out to play their role as the happy family sending off the newlyweds, I pulled my cell phone out of my evening bag and turned it on. Greg wheeled close to me and rubbed his hand up and down my back in comfort.

  “The sooner we turn this over to Dev,” he said, almost in the tone of an order, “the sooner we can get out of the middle of it.”

  I nodded in agreement as I scrolled through my phone’s address book.

  Greg let out a short, sad chuckle. “Here’s a story the wedding planner won’t soon forget.”

 
I tossed my head toward the body. “Meet Shirley Pearson, the wedding planner.”

  Detective Devin Frye is a homicide detective with the Newport Beach Police. I met him the same time I met Greg, when my friend Sophie London was murdered. Over the years, the three of us have remained good friends. Dev is as chagrined over my penchant for finding dead bodies as Greg is, if not more. You see, Greg has finally adopted the “if you can’t beat her, join her” attitude and often sticks his nose into things right along with me. Dev, on the other hand, being a homicide detective, faces the horror of murder every day and doesn’t find it one bit funny that it follows me like a pesky shadow. As he has often said, with a shake of his grumbling head, now he worries about the two of us instead of just the one.

  It was just after ten o’clock in the evening when I called Dev about the murder at Hannah’s wedding. Just to make sure we gave the bride and groom time to make a getaway, Jacob agreed to tell us when the limo was about to leave the club. As soon as his knock sounded on the door, I punched the speed dial. For the past couple of years, Dev, a widower, had been seeing a lovely schoolteacher named Beverly. It being a Saturday night, there was a good chance they might be together, or even out. But this wasn’t something that could wait.

  Dev answered on the first ring. He sounded neither sleepy nor annoyed. I gave him a brief rundown of what we’d found and where and about the delicacy of the situation. After barking at me to not let anyone leave, he hung up, no doubt dialing the station house for backup as he ran to his car.

  Right before the departure of the bride and groom, and before too many people could get away, Seth had made an announcement that he and Zee had a special toast to make and asked people to remain. Once the happy couple’s limo was gone, fresh champagne was poured all around. Seth even invited the catering staff and the band to join in. He said a few words about Hannah and Rob, the young man Hannah had met while attending Stanford, and thanked everyone for contributing to their happiness.

  I waited by the front door of the club for Dev. Just as glasses were tipped in a final salute to the newlyweds, the police showed up, and all exits were blocked. We’d been right to wait until Hannah had gone. It wouldn’t have done the bride any good to see her wedding reception turned into a prison lockdown.