Free No Place Like Home - A Camilla Randall Mystery (The Camilla Randall Mysteries) by Anne R. Allen Page A

the inventory, but I had some of my own things decorating the walls and the back office.
    Silas and Plant would have to find a place to store my things. I had way too much stuff for a single room, which was all I was going to be able to afford, even if Silas could afford to pay me to work in another one of his stores.
    First I packed things in the back room, then moved into the store. The fog hadn't lifted, so I turned on the lights, even though customers might see and think the store was open.
    And sure enough, as I packed up my library lion bookends, book-shaped pen holder and framed portraits of Jane Austen and Virginia Woolf, I heard heavy knocking on the door.
    I looked out and saw Brianna's face peering in the window. The girl didn't look well. Her untended streak of blue hair was fading to the color of old cheese, and her face was red, as if she'd been crying.
    I opened the door and saw Brianna was accompanied by a young man. A very large young man, sporting a muscle tee-shirt and several ill-chosen tattoos.
    "She wants the money you owe her," the muscle man said with a growl. "Now."

Chapter 27—The Yellow Brick Road
     
     
     
    Doria finished her second cup of coffee slowly. Unfortunately a mother with four large children hovered nearby, giving her threatening looks, as if they owned her table.
    Doria tried to ignore them as she gathered her thoughts. Okay, she knew what she had to do. She was a respected businesswoman. She'd talk to the police calmly and offer her help. She'd make it clear she had nothing to do with Harry's schemes. She'd even tried to talk him out of investing in that stupid boat company. Who would want to buy a four-person submarine? She had to tell them she was on their side and would do whatever possible make reparations to Harry's victims.
    A trip back to the San Luis Obispo property would do her good. It would allow for closure. And of course she'd need to make arrangements for Harry—he had no other heirs that she knew of. She could also see whether anything could be salvaged from the house.
    The grainy newspaper photographs didn't show if any part of the house had survived. But there was probably hope for the travertine marble fireplace. The stone should be worth something. And maybe some garden sculptures had avoided the flames. She'd bought so many lovely garden things during her stay there last January. Maybe she could start a garden art store.
    Lovely place, San Luis Obispo. It would be a nice drive. Although it would be nicer if her tummy weren't hurting so much. The Vicodin was wearing off.
    Damn. The Vicodin.
    It was still at Betsy's house.
    Doria looked through the purse, hoping to find something—at least Tylenol. She pulled out an amazing array of make-up before she felt it—something that might be a prescription bottle way in the bottom. Yes. She had to adjust her glasses to read the label, but there it was.
    Oxycontin.
    She said a silent thank-you to Betsy. She should have known Betsy would have the best drugs. She always did in the old days.
    Doria took one tablet with the rest of her coffee and collected her things as the large family hovered closer. As Doria smiled sweetly and stood, they scrambled past her so fast they nearly knocked her over.
    She went to the counter and ordered another coffee for the road, filled her water bottle, and headed for the parking lot.
    The Mercedes still had nearly half a tank of gas and the edge was starting to come off her pain, thanks to Betsy's magic pill.
    She had a whole bottle of Oxy, coffee, half a chocolate bar, and a sunny highway ahead. Doria's own yellow brick road. She would survive.
    As she headed north on the 101, she realized how lucky she was. After all, if she hadn't been in L.A. getting the tummy tuck, she'd have been in that house with Harry. She would have burned up in that fire, too.
    Somebody up there had to be watching over her. She touched her angel pendant in silent thanks.
    So, okay her life had been gutted. Now it