“Not you, girl. Fluffy, do you want a treat?” I walked toward the kitchen, keeping an eye on the dogs. “I have doggie cookies. This one looks like pizza.” I lifted the rump from my Golden Retriever cookie jar on the counter.
Fluffy didn’t move. Missy bumbled into the kitchen and sat at my feet and immediately produced a puddle of drool. I tossed her a cookie.
Snob Dog laid down.
“Do you want one?” I held it in front of me as I slowly made my way to her. She stared at me like I was an idiot. “I’ll trade you, the purse for the treat.”
I tossed the cookie a couple of feet from Fluffy. She dropped the purse and sniffed the treat. I grabbed my Chloe’ tote and checked it for damage. Other than dog slobber, it was fine.
“I didn’t think I’d need to tell you this, but my purses and shoes are off limits.”
Fluffy ate her treat and then barked.
“I hope taking you to the funeral isn’t something I’m going to regret.”
While the dogs ate their snack I decided I wasn’t about to attend the shindig of the year alone. I called for reinforcements.
Darby agreed to play chaperone to Fluffy and me. I couldn’t help but wonder who else was just finding out about the funeral. I hoped Caro made an appearance. I wanted my brooch back.
Two hours later Darby, Fluffy and I zoomed down PCH. It was a drab kinda afternoon, overcast and gloomy. Perfect for a funeral.
Not sure what to wear, I’d settled on a belted cashmere dress sans Grandma Tillie’s brooch. Fluffy sported her diamond collar. I’d brought her tiara, but hadn’t decided if I’d make her wear it. Darby thought I should have left it in the safe.
“Do you think anyone will be there?” Darby adjusted the seatbelt over her chocolate-colored wrap dress.
“Well, we’ll be there. I’m sure Tricia will show.”
“What about Cliff?”
“Does the funeral home serve Scotch?”
I pulled into the church parking lot. It was packed. We drove in circles before we found a place down 2nd Street. I checked my watch, worried we were late. It was only one thirty.
“I guess that answers that.” I turned off the Jeep and set the emergency brake.
A group of ladies (and I only use that term because I can’t come up with something more accurate at the moment) toddled past us and up the street in their five-inch heels, hair extensions, and faces pulled back until they looked like Halloween masks. I didn’t recognize a single one.
Funeral crashers.
“It’s a chapter out of
“Leave the tiara,” Darby deadpanned.
We grabbed our purses and climbed out of the Jeep. The three of us walked up the sidewalk side by side, hair blowing in the afternoon breeze. Nose and tail in the air, Fluffy, the runway supermodel of dogs, owned us all.
We made our way up the street in silence. I didn’t know about Darby, but I was preparing for what we’d find inside the beautifully dramatic church.
The Spanish influence was obvious in its off-white stucco walls and red tile roof. Its wrought iron balconies and mini shrub mazes hinted at a blush of romance. It seemed a better fit for a wedding than a funeral. The recently renovated super-sized bell tower made me think of Mona’s doorbell.
The three of us climbed the steps and entered the church behind the latest gaggle of gossip mongers. The lobby, equally as beautiful as the outside, spilled over with extravagantly dressed bodies and hushed voices. Their faux reverence wasn’t out of mourning, but scandalous chit-chat. It was sad and pathetic, and I actually felt badly for Mona.
It didn’t take long before I spotted a handful of the usual suspects you’d find at a society event. The mayor and the city council had staked out one corner of the room. Probably rehashing which streets to tear apart and repave next. Not that they’d finished repairing the first round of destruction yet.
I scanned the open room for Owen, looking for a little guidance on where Fluffy should sit. Out of the corner of my eye Tricia appeared dressed in all black, including a pillbox hat with a stack of huge black organza leaves dangling in front of her face. She looked like the widow and not a grieving best friend. It was creepy.
Tova swaggered inside in a bright pink sheath dress looking like Elle Woods, only instead of Legally Blonde she was Lethally Blonde. She maneuvered an enormous leopard print handbag around the small crowd hovering around the guest book. If I had to guess, which I didn’t because it was obvious, her bag hid Kiki.
As much as I wanted to deal with her immediately, it wasn’t appropriate (again, those dang southern manners). But once those church bells rang, it was game on.
“Darby, I drank too much tea before we left. Can you keep Fluffy for a second?”
“Sure.”
She accepted the leash, and I patted Fluffy’s head. I made quick work of locating the ladies’ room. It was empty so I had my choice of stalls.
I was just about to flush when the restroom door opened and an argument in progress entered.
“Don’t threaten me.” That voice was on a slow simmer.
“You misunderstood.” Overly sweet foghorn voice.
“No, I don’t believe I did. You said if I didn’t help you, I’d be sorry. That’s a threat.”
Ah, thank you Captain Obvious.
It had to be Tricia and Jo. I peeked through the crack to see what they were doing.
Wow. It sounded like Jo, but it sure didn’t look like her.
She’d actually brushed her bushy red hair and pulled on a dress. I pressed my face up against the stall door, straining for a less obstructed view. Sure enough, navy blue, cowl-neck dress and closed toe pumps.
She was a hot mess.
Tricia studied herself in the mirror as she reapplied her red lipstick. “I’d think you’d have enough to deal with. I heard the police questioned you about your part in Mona’s murder.”
Jo closed the space between them, making it difficult to see her face. “I warned her someone was going to kill her. I had nothin’ else to do with her death.” The slight tremor in her voice hinted at repressed anxiety.
“That’s not true, and we both know it. Mona told me all about-” she stopped abruptly and stared at my partial reflection in the mirror. “Who’s in here?”
Dang. I held my breath. I wanted to know what Mona had told her.
“I can see your eye. Come out.” Since Mona had died, Tricia had appointed herself as the new Queen of Bossy.
I emerged from the stall. “Don’t let me keep you from arguing.” I washed and dried my hands, wanting to get out of the line of fire now that there was nothing good to overhear.
Jo squinted and glared at me. “You were eavesdropping,” she accused.
I smoothed my dress and made a beeline for the door. “Nice visiting, but I’ve got a dog waiting for me.”
Yikes. That was wild. I quickly found my way back to where I’d left Darby and Fluffy.
“What took you so long?” Darby practically threw the leash at me.
I nodded over my shoulder toward Jo, who’d followed me out of the ladies’ room. “I was trapped in the bathroom. I’ll explain later.”
“I can’t wait to hear this one.”
Fluffy allowed me to lead as we made our way toward the inner sanctum of the building. She wasn’t honoring our agreement. She was finished with the crowd and ready to go home. I mean my place.
Lord have mercy. I caught a glimpse of my brooch heading inside the sanctuary. I almost gave myself whiplash as I turned in Caro’s direction.
“Hey, you stole that from me.”
“I retrieved what was
Damn. Darn. (We were in church. I had to watch my damns.) She looked good in her black Chanel dress.
“Uh, Mel, this isn’t really the place to have a smack down with your cousin.” Darby, the voice of reason.
