Fanny Packs and Foul Play (A Haley Randolph Mystery) by Dorothy Howell Read Free Book Online

there were the usual
things everybody deals with at this time of year for the
holidays.”
    Everything Andrea described seemed like
normal stuff—except that, somehow, Veronica had been murdered.
    Andrea shuddered. “The killer had been right
here in this house?”
    “That’s what it looks like,” I said, and
Jack’s concerns came back to me again. “Listen, you should know
there’s a possibility the family has been targeted, for some
reason.”
    Andrea didn’t look all the surprised. She’d
worked as a personal assistant for other high-profile people in Los
Angeles, and knew what to expect.
    “Maybe it would be best if the family went
back home,” she said, then shook her head, as if reconsidering her
own suggestion. “But we’d have to tell them why. And if word got
out?”
    We both knew the media feeding-frenzy that
would ensue if the story broke—the murder of a young woman from a
wealthy family, out-of-town relatives fleeing in panic, and a
Calabasas mansion on lock down. The speculation would be endless,
the Spencer-Taft family would be furious, and Jack would be held
responsible for not keeping an air-tight security lid on the
incident.
    “Here’s what we’ll do,” I said. “I’ll have
the security team put a female in the house. You tell the aunts
that she’s from a concierge service and is in charge of taking them
on tours and things. That way they won’t become alarmed, but
they’ll be protected.”
    I knew Jack would go along with it—and it was
totally cool to think I’d come up with a helpful idea.
    Not that I’m desperate to impress Jack, or
anything. Really.
    Andrea nodded. “I can sell that. No
problem.”
    “Are you going to be okay here, keeping an
eye on the family?” I asked. “You could be in danger, too.”
    She shrugged. “I need the work. I’ll stay
until I’m no longer needed.”
    I slid down off of the stool and said,
“You’ll let me know if you recall something out of the ordinary
with Veronica, or the family, or anything?”
    “Of course,” she promised. “I don’t know
what’s up with the Thanksgiving feast for the employees. I’ll try
to approach Patrick about it soon.”
    “I’ll keep going forward with it until I hear
differently.”
    I dropped my soda can in the recycle bin,
then wound my way through the big house and out to my Honda. The
white BMW that belonged to Veronica was still parked there,
alongside Andrea’s Mazda.
    My head was full of suspects as I pulled
away—not a difficult list to compile, since I pretty much knew
everyone who had been at the house the day of the murder.
    Julia was there. While she was hardly a
loving mother-in-law, she was devoted to Patrick. She knew how much
he loved Veronica. They’d been married for well over a year. For
Julia to have suddenly lost it and thrown Veronica over the
balcony, something major must have happened. I couldn’t imagine
what it might have been so I knew of no motive—yet she’d
disappeared shortly after the family arrived and gone, presumably,
into the house.
    Erika had disappeared along with Julia. I
hadn’t actually seen either one of them go inside. Were they
together? Had one—or both—of them gone in? Or were they on the
grounds overseeing the renovations with one of the workmen?
    Erika was the interior decorator. If Veronica
was dead she would likely be out of a job, so what could her motive
have been for murder?
    I pulled up to the security gate. Cars were
stopped on the opposite side as the guard consulted his approved
list of visitors. It reminded me again how difficult it was to gain
access to the area.
    The exit gate swung open and I drove through.
Yesterday, a murderer had done the same. The mental image gave me a
creepy feeling so I forced my thoughts back to possible
suspects.
    What about Renée? She’d rushed into the house
immediately upon arrival, claiming she needed to find a bathroom.
She’d been alone inside for a while, then admitted that her search
had taken