Just Murdered by Elaine Viets Read Free Book Online Page A

to the rehearsal dinner. She’d better pay me, or I’ll rip those dresses right off her bridesmaids’ backs. That chinless wonder of a daughter will be walking down the aisle stark naked. Kiki’s not pulling her tricks on me. I need that money.”

    It was after ten when Helen parked the shop van in the Coronado lot. She would have to leave again at six a.m.—unless Kiki called Millicent and had her fired. Helen didn’t much care.
    Thumbs met her at the door with his starving cat routine.
    “You’re a lying feline,” Helen said, scratching his ears. “I left you plenty to eat.”
    But she put out a scoop of canned food, a rich cat pâté. Thumbs ate it greedily. Helen wished she could like anything in a can that much.
    There was a knock on her door. She peeked out the peephole and saw Phil with a rose in one hand and a paper bag in the other. Her heart melted.
    “Presents for you and Mr. Thumbs,” he said.
    “I love roses,” she said, but Kiki’s nasty remark about shopgirls stuck in her mind like a thorn. How could Desiree live with those petty insults year after year?
    “The present for Thumbs is from Margery, but she didn’t want to give it to you directly because of the no-pets policy. I’m the delivery boy.”
    The sedentary house cat leaped on the bag like a starving lion on an antelope.
    “What’s in that?” Helen said.
    “Organic catnip toys. Margery’s friend Rita Scott makes them. This is her most powerful batch yet.”
    Thumbs was pushing the bag around with his nose.
    “It must be,” Helen said. “He doesn’t usually behave like that.” She dumped out the bag on the kitchen counter. There were six cloth packets the size of mailing labels, stuffed with catnip.
    Thumbs skidded across the counter, taking a pile of papers with him, and fell off. He stuck his head under the couch and wiggled his tail. He did backflips. He ran through the house and knocked over a footstool.
    Helen and Phil watched, laughing.
    “Where’d he go?” she said.
    They found Thumbs lying in his pet caddy. “He hates pet caddies. They mean trips to the vet,” Helen said. “What’s he doing in there, staring at the ceiling? Look at his eyes. He’s zonked.”
    “Thumbs, have you ever looked at your paw? I mean really looked at your paw?” Phil said. “He’s having fun. We should, too. Let’s go out for mojito martinis on Las Olas. You need some romance.”
    “I don’t have time for romance, Phil. I’m working on a wedding.”
    “Weddings are romantic.”
    “Most weddings are as romantic as a root canal,” Helen said. “Especially for young brides. I feel sorry for them. They’re told, ‘This is your day.’ But the wedding isn’t about the bride. It’s the last chance for her mother to have the wedding she wanted.”
    “Come to think of it, the romance went out of my marriage with the wedding,” Phil said. “My ex got caught up in making sure the bridesmaids’ ribbons matched the groomsmen’s cummerbunds. I felt like an afterthought. I never lost that feeling.”
    “I’ve got an idea,” Helen said. “Let’s skip the wedding and have the honeymoon.”
    “Right now?” Phil said.
    “Yes.”
    Phil picked her up and carried her over the threshold to the bedroom.

Chapter 5

    The stark white cathedral shone like an iceberg in the morning sun.
    Inside, the deep-blue stained-glass windows made Helen feel like she was in a drowned ocean liner. The Titanic , perhaps. She still couldn’t shake the feeling of disaster.
    Yet the wedding preparations continued in seamless perfection. Even the iffy winter weather cooperated. The temperature was ideal for the bridesmaids’ strapless dresses. The playful breeze promised to waft the rose petals prettily as the bride and groom ran down the church steps.
    When Helen got to the cathedral at six thirty, Jeff, the wedding planner, was already supervising the flower placement.
    “No, people, that’s too close to the pillar. ”
    He waved, but Helen