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

her all over the residence. Did that include the master
suite? Could she have dashed upstairs, found it, seen Veronica and
pushed her over the balcony?
    Sure, it was possible. But why would she do
it?
    When I’d gone upstairs to find Veronica, I’d
heard noise from a work crew nearby. Was one of them some psycho
killer, or something, who’d pushed her off the balcony in a crazed
fit of rage?
    I wondered, too, about the cooks and maids
Julia had sent to take care of Veronica’s house guests. Andrea said
they’d worked for Julia for years and, presumably, were beyond
approach.
    But they were also devoted to Julia. Would
they have done away with Veronica because of some whacked-out sense
of loyalty? Could Julia have decided to get rid of her
daughter-in-law and somehow gotten them to do her dirty work for
her?
    Was I stretching for suspects?
    Oh, yeah. I was.
    My brain definitely needed a boost. The soda
I’d had with Andrea just wasn’t cutting it so I headed for the
Commons, the shopping center that served the upscale Calabasas
residents. I knew a Starbucks was there.
    I knew where all the Starbucks were.
    As so many Southern California days were,
this one was gorgeous. I decided I owed it to myself to enjoy the
weather a bit—plus, it was a good reason to delay my return to the
office—so I parked and went inside.
    The place smelled great, of course, and a
number of people were scattered around the room, reading, working
on a laptop, or chatting with friends as they sipped their coffees.
I ordered my all-time favorite drink in the entire universe, a
mocha frappuccino, and paid for it with the company’s gift card I’d
registered online.
    I didn’t know how the heck I’d missed it, but
I’d recently learned that Starbucks had a loyalty program that
tracked your purchases—you got a cool star for each one—and awarded
special discounts and free items after you’d accumulated a certain
number of stars. The whole thing was tracked online. There was even
a mobile app. I was within six purchases of moving up to the next
level—whatever that was. I hadn’t read their web site instructions
all that carefully.
    That happens a lot.
    I got my frappie and look a long sip as I
walked outside. Just as I was about to find a table at their
outdoor seating area and let my brain rest, Liam Douglas flew into
my thoughts.
    I didn’t really want to like him—he’d been a
total jackass—but there was something about him that made me feel
shaky inside.
    But maybe that was just my
frappuccino—chocolate and caffeine could have that effect, couldn’t
it?
    My cell phone rang. Andrea’s name appeared on
the caller ID screen. A jolt flew though me. Oh my God, had
something else horrible happened?
    “I thought of something,” she said when I
answered.
    She didn’t sound upset, which made me relax a
little—or as much as is possible while drinking a frappuccino,
making a mental list of murder suspects, and remembering a hot
guy.
    “This may be nothing,” she said. “In fact,
I’m sure it’s nothing. Really, I shouldn’t have even called.”
    I hate it when people do that.
    “What is it?” I asked, and managed to sound
patient.
    “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,”
Andrea said. “And I don’t want to get myself into hot water.”
    I knew she—and every other personal assistant
who worked for a wealthy family—had signed a confidentially
agreement upon accepting employment. Andrea could get sued for
divulging info—or worse, ruin her reputation and never get hired
again.
    “You won’t tell anyone I was the one who said
it, will you?” she asked.
    “I’m great at keeping secrets,” I said.
    Which was totally true. Just last week Kayla
at L.A. Affairs had told me a huge secret—and I’d told hardly
anyone.
    I could, however, keep my mouth shut about
the info Andrea was about to share—if it was, in fact, something
that might get her fired.
    She was quiet for another few seconds then
said, “Like I