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

Brandie’s head swiveled
back and forth as she tried to take in the ocean, the stores,
restaurants, and businesses that lined both sides of the road.
    “Want to get your feet wet?” I asked.
    “Of course,” Brandie said.
    I drove a little further down PCH, then
turned right into the parking lot next to the Santa Monica pier.
The lot was close to the ocean, and there were restaurants, gift
shops, and carnival rides on the pier. I paid the attendant, swung
into a parking spot, and we got out.
    “No wonder Veronica loves it out here,”
Brandie said, as she held up her cell phone, taking more
pictures.
    “She wasn’t planning to go back home?” I
asked.
    “After all the trouble the family put into
keeping her big secret from Patrick and everybody?” Brandie said.
“No way.”
    I froze. Oh my God. Veronica had a
secret?
    Brandie gasped and pressed her lips
together.
    “I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” she told
me. “Oh my God, Mom is going to throw a complete fit if she finds
out I said something.”
    I didn’t want to make things worse for
Brandie and I didn’t want to get her in trouble with her mom, but I
wasn’t about to let this slide.
    I gave her one of my we’re-cool shrugs and
said, “You might as well tell me now.”
    She thought for a second and sighed. “Yeah, I
guess.”
    Brandie didn’t say anything—I hate it when
that happens—then finally drew a big breath and said, “We’re not
supposed to talk about Veronica’s parents. Everybody was afraid
that if Patrick knew about them, he wouldn’t want to marry her.
Like our family wouldn’t be good enough, or something. And his
parents would be embarrassed and then they’d get a divorce and
abandon the candy business. Everybody’s life would be ruined.”
    Now I was dying to know what the secret was,
but I knew I couldn’t push her.
    I hate that, too.
    Brandie thought for another minute or so then
said, “Veronica’s dad abandoned her mom when she was just a baby.
He was some total loser, I guess. A druggie, or something. I don’t
know. The family doesn’t talk about him much.”
    That hardly seemed secret-worthy to me.
    “What about Veronica’s mother?” I asked.
    “That’s the thing,” Brandie said. She
hesitated another moment, then said, “She was a druggie, too. She’s
in prison.”
    Oh, crap.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 8
    “This is
crazy,” Marcie said.
    “Yes, but something will turn up,” I
replied.
    We were spending our Sunday morning in the
mall at Sherman Oaks continuing our search for a fabulous handbag
and, once again, hadn’t found anything we loved—or even liked. When
we’d done this at the Galleria a few days ago Marcie had suggested
I was being a crab-ass about the whole thing. She’d been
right—Marcie was almost always right—so today I was making an
effort to be upbeat and positive.
    “Are you okay?” Marcie asked. “You’ve been
acting weird all day.”
    So much for the new me.
    “Let’s try Macy’s,” I said.
    We’d already checked out the Coach and
Michael Kors stores, Bloomingdales, and a few other shops. Macy’s
was our last hope.
    “I met this really annoying guy,” I said, as
we made our way through the crowd. Everything was already decorated
for Christmas and, apparently, lots of people were getting a jump
on their shopping.
    “Was he at least good looking?” Marcie
asked.
    “Totally handsome,” I said. “A lawyer. Liam
Douglas.”
    “Sexy name,” she said, nodding. “Why was he
so annoying?”
    I replayed my conversation with Liam in my
head and, really, except for the fact that he’d come at me all
wrong about my clients and their dog’s birthday party, he’d seemed
okay. Well, better than okay—but that wasn’t the point.
    “He made me so mad. I couldn’t believe how
upset I got. Then he totally backed off and apologized,” I said.
“I’ll never see him again, anyway.”
    “Too bad. Sounds like you two had some