Free How to Host a Killer Party by Penny Warner Page A

shot.
    Underneath, a list of personal statistics and misdemeanors filled the page. I skimmed it, already aware of most of the contents.
    CALIFORNIA DEPARTMENT OF LAW ENFORCEMENT CRIMINAL JUSTICE INFORMATION SYSTEMS AUTOMATED CRIMINAL RECORD CHECK SYSTEM * CUSTOMER SUMMARY REPORT *
    PARKER, VERONICA
    ADDR1: 5224 PACIFIC HEIGHTS AVE, SF
    ADDR2: 1710 VAN NESS AVENUE, #222

    OCCUPATION:
    PEACE ADVOCATE/ARTIST/REVOLUTIONARY/
PARTY PLANNER/ANIMAL ACTIVIST/CITIZEN/
MODEL/TELEVISION PERSONALITY/HOSTESS
    AKA:
    VERONICA VALDEZ
VERONICA UAWITHYA
VERONICA JEFFERSON
VERONICA HELLER
    ARREST- 1
    AGENCY CASE-412084
CHARGE 001-BATTERY-
STATUTE/ORDINANCE CA784—03
LEVEL—MISDEMEANOR
    ARREST- 2
    I couldn’t read any more and let my mother’s list of arrests and misdemeanors float back onto Detective Melvin’s desk.
    Oh, Mom.
    “She’s got quite a rap sheet.”
    I rolled my eyes. “She’s got Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t always know what she’s doing. But whatever it is, it’s for a good cause—at least in her mind.”
    “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”
    I bristled. “Look, Detective, if she really did help me get the job—which I doubt—hosting the mayor’s wedding isn’t a crime. Having a mother with a debilitating disease isn’t a crime. And knowing a dead person isn’t a crime.”
    Melvin the Magician opened his drawer of tricks and conjured up another plastic bag. With a twist of the wrist, he dumped the contents onto his desk.
    It was a miniature replica of a black bird.
    Made of chocolate.
    I looked up at him, puzzled. “Where did you get that?”
    “In Ms. Sax’s car. Four others, including one half eaten, are at the ME’s lab.” He raised his eyebrows, apparently waiting for my confession.
    “But why . . . how?”
    “That’s what I want to know, Ms. Parker.” He rolled the bird over with a flick of his pencil nib.
    Flabbergasted, I couldn’t speak for several seconds. Then I said, “Look, Detective. I. Don’t. Know. Rocco, my caterer for the event, made a bunch of chocolate Maltese Falcons and chocolate handcuffs for the mayor’s wedding. He thought they’d be appropriate for the ball-and-chain theme—falcons for the crime solvers and handcuffs for the criminals. But you’re not implying . . .”
    Detective Melvin stuck his hand inside the empty plastic bag, grasped the dark chocolate bird and, turning the bag inside out, pulled the bird back in. He placed it in a concealed desk drawer and locked the drawer securely.
    “Look, Detective, I don’t serve poisoned chocolates at my events. Tends to decimate the guest list, you know.”
    “Any idea how these got into Ms. Sax’s car?”
    I shook my head. “Maybe . . . someone took them from the reception, then somehow injected them with poison . . . I don’t know. Could have been anyone. There were a lot of people there. Half of them were wearing masks or disguises of some sort.”
    “You’re forgetting, Ms. Parker. Andrea Sax was killed before the wedding.”
    Oh yeah. What a great detective I’d make.
    While I tried to come up with a plausible explanation, Detective Melvin watched me squirm. A smug smile played on his face, causing tiny crinkles at the corners of his impenetrable eyes. I could see his jaw working—probably rehearsing the Miranda warning. I was surprised he wasn’t salivating.
    “Obviously someone stole them from the barracks kitchen. That’s where Rocco made them. We’ve had some break-ins at the office lately.”
    “That might explain it . . . except for one thing.”
    “What?”
    “Ikea Takeda.”
    “What about her?” I snapped. “She drowned! I’m sorry, but it was an accident. She must have fallen off the ferry on her way back to the city.”
    His silence told me everything I didn’t want to know. I shook my head and forced the words out. “Not an accident?”
    His eyes narrowed.
    “Poisoned, right?”
    Stone face.
    “I guess it won’t do any good to say I have no idea what’s going on with these two .