I wasn’t convinced either of the parties involved would agree, but I didn’t bother to say so.
“Sounds good, Mom,” I said.
Really, what else could I say?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mom said and ended the call.
I paused outside the entrance to L.A. Affairs to drop my phone into my handbag, and it rang again. Mom was calling back already? But when I checked the ID screen I saw Andrea’s name.
“You need to get out here,” she said, when I answered.
Oh my God, she sounded like she was in total panic mode.
“Brandie is missing,” she said. “I can’t find her anywhere.”
Okay, now I was in total panic mode.
“I’ve looked everywhere I can think to look,” Andrea told me. “I’ve called her cell phone over and over. I texted her. She hasn’t responded to anything.”
“Did you call the private security team?” I asked, already heading toward the elevator.
“They’re searching the grounds,” Andrea said. “You … you don’t think she was kidnapped, do you?”
If Veronica was actually being blackmailed, it was possible, now that she was gone, the blackmailer had ramped up to kidnapping. Jack had said the family might be targeted in some way.
“I mean, where would she go? How would she get anywhere?” Andrea said. “I called the gate guard. No taxis came through this morning. The limo service hasn’t been here.”
“Her mom and aunts must be going crazy,” I said.
“They’re still sleeping,” Andrea said. “Should I wake them? I mean, I’m not sure. I don’t want to alarm them, if it’s nothing.”
“The security team will know what to do. Just sit tight. I’m on my way,” I said, and ended the call.
I punched the elevator call button, trying to still my runaway thoughts. Really scary images bloomed in my mind. I forced them out and concentrated on the situation.
Maybe Brandie had just gone for a walk. Maybe she’d found a secluded spot and hunkered down to text her friends back home. Maybe she had her ear buds in and hadn’t heard Andrea calling for her. Maybe she was being a typical teenager and wasn’t in the mood to answer her phone.
All those things were possible, but not likely.
The elevator doors opened and I rushed inside.
Maybe she’d really been kidnapped.
What else could it be? Andrea had a point. Brandie had no way of getting anywhere, and even if she’d found a way, there were few places open at this time of day. So what other alternative was there?
Then it hit me.
I knew exactly where Brandie was and how she’d gotten there.
* * *
“How’d you find me?” Brandie asked.
I held up my cell phone. “The Starbucks app. I get a message every time it’s used.”
I’d checked it as soon as I’d stepped into the elevator and seen exactly where Brandie was, then called Jack and told him where I was headed. When I’d driven into the shopping center and spotted Brandie seated at an umbrella table outside Starbucks sipping a frappuccino, I’d texted Andrea and Jack with the news.
I nodded toward Veronica’s white BMW parked nearby.
“Told you I could drive,” Brandie said.
The trip from the house to Starbucks was through quiet residential streets, so it wasn’t like she was navigating the freeway during the morning commute. That didn’t make it right—but it wasn’t my place to say so. Her mom could handle that conversation.
“I need coffee,” I said.
The line was short so I got my drink quickly, loaded it up with sugar and creamer, and joined Brandie at the table outside.
She had a little sullen-belligerent-I-don’t-care-what-anybody-thinks teenage attitude going so I sipped my drink and let a few minutes pass before I said anything.
“Everybody thought you’d been kidnapped,” I told her.
She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind and said, “Are you kidding me?”
“After what happened to Veronica,” I said, “the security team is thinking worst-case-scenario.”
She pouted for a moment, then gasped. “Oh my God, does my mom know about this? She always sleeps late. I figured I’d be back before she woke up.”
“She doesn’t know yet,” I said.
Brandie slumped in her chair. “This vacation is so lame. Veronica was always really cool, and now she’s not here anymore. Mom and my aunts are always fighting. That tour guide keeps sending us to stupid places.”
I couldn’t disagree. This hadn’t exactly been a dream vacation.
“Everybody said I could come out here for college, but Patrick won’t want me here now,” Brandie said. “He won’t pay for my classes. I know he won’t. He wouldn’t even give my uncle a decent job. He made him a gardener. I’m not going to clean the house or something, just to go to college here.”
A few seconds passed—I mean, jeez, I was drinking my coffee—until I realized what she’d said.
“Your uncle?” I asked. “What uncle?”
“Darrell,” she said. “He’s, you know, that relative nobody wants to talk about, sort of like Veronica’s mother. I didn’t even know he’d come out here.”
“Did he contact you?” I asked.
Brandie sipped her frappie and shook her head. “I saw him. At the house. The day we arrived.”
I remembered that while her mom and aunts were piling out of the limo and gawking at the house, Brandie had been looking at the workmen.
“I guess he was kind of embarrassed about us seeing him working as a gardener,” Brandie said, “because as soon as he saw me, he took off.”
Oh my God, a relative of Veronica’s had been at the house the day she was murdered? Working with the gardeners? And he’d taken off when Brandie recognized him?
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I hopped out of my chair and paced a few feet away as I called Jack on my cell phone. He answered right away.
“I think I found Veronica’s blackmailer,” I told him.
Chapter 14
“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 dep
artment 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.”
Fanny Packs and Foul Play (A Haley Randolph Mystery) Page 11