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I didn’t believe her for a doggone minute. “I’m sure either the police or Owen have Mona’s legal documents.” I had no idea what I was saying. I was making stuff up as I went along. I didn’t even know if her so called contract even existed.

My gut said Tricia was hiding something, and I wanted to know what. I picked up the second dress, a cute denim with pink flowers and crystals, perfect for Shar’s Babycakes. It dawned on me Tricia had been using Mona to get her business off the ground. Without her, Tricia would have to find a new investor.

“Did Mona owe you money?” I asked.

She snatched the dog dress from my hands. “What are you talking about?”

“Most contracts involve money changing hands. You’re looking for the contract, minutes before the reading of the will.”

Tricia packed away her samples haphazardly. “You do realize it’s not a reading like you see on TV? Owen will give you a copy of the paperwork, you’ll sign a release, and that will be the end of it.”

I didn’t know that. I had imagined everyone sitting around while Owen read off who was getting what and who wasn’t getting what they thought they deserved. Apparently, it wasn’t so dramatic. I watched Tricia with renewed interest. How many will readings had she been to that she was so well versed in the procedures?

“Thanks for the heads up. Your samples are charming. What were you and Jo arguing about at the funeral?”

Her shrewd brown eyes turned on me. “That’s none of your business.”

“It’s not, but you should tell me. I don’t trust Jo, and I can’t believe for a minute Mona actually believed Jo could predict the future.”

“You’re wrong. Mona did believe. And it turned out she was right.”

At some point Tricia had to stop living in the land of denial. “Did you ever stop to think maybe Jo had something to do with Mona’s death?”

“That’s ridiculous. If anything, Cliff and his brother are responsible for Mona’s death. They just wanted her money.”

Hello, pot. Was she listening to herself? She wasn’t any different than Cliff and his brother. She wanted Mona’s money, too, although she probably wasn’t dumb enough to borrow money from the mob.

“Cliff constantly harassed her for cash for himself and Ted.”

I nodded. “Batty.”

“So you’ve heard.”

I wasn’t about to throw Camilla under the bus. “Stuff like that gets around. Why would they hook up with the mob?”

She looked at me with a smug smile. “You don’t know as much as you think.”

“But as Mona’s best friend you do.” I appealed to her vanity.

“The Michaels brothers like to drink and gamble.”

Again, Captain Obvious. Even my Mama knew about Cliff’s “vices.” “I’ve never asked you this before, but where were you when Mona was killed?”

Tricia snapped her bag shut. “I’ve already given a statement to the police. Since you’re not the police, I don’t have to answer.” Contempt oozed off her tongue.

I didn’t believe for a minute she was the killer, but her reaction confirmed my earlier gut feeling she was hiding something. “You’re right, you don’t have to. But since you don’t have anything to hide, why wouldn’t you?”

“I was on a date.”

That wasn’t what I thought she’d say. “With who?”

“No one you know. My private life is not open for discussion.” A sense of false bravado shrouded poor Tricia. She just didn’t have the same tone of contempt as Mona.

She was so hiding something.

Because it’s Laguna, and we’re a stone’s throw from LA, I have to admit, my first thought was she was dating a married man. Why else would she want to keep him a secret? The name of the game in her social circle was to be seen with someone higher on the social ladder than yourself.

What if Mona knew who Tricia was dating, and it was a scandal waiting to break? Maybe that’s what Tricia was really looking for. Not a contract, but proof of her private life.

Like pictures she didn’t want anyone else to see.

If someone had told me I’d feel sorry for Mona, I’d have thought they were crazy. But with each day I was learning she was one of those unfortunate people who wouldn’t know if someone was her friend or if they saw her as nothing more than a cash cow.

It had to be a miserable existence.

Tricia wanted Mona for her name and money. That wasn’t a motive for murder. With Mona dead, Tricia didn’t have a backer. Cliff and his brother wanted Mona to pay off their gambling debts. If she was dead, she couldn’t cough up the cash. It seemed they didn’t have a motive either.

Unless Mona had cut off Cliff’s money, so he killed her out of anger. Maybe that’s what Kate had heard them arguing about? What if Mona hadn’t changed her will right away, and Cliff thought she was worth more dead than alive? That was certainly a motive for whacking his rich ex-wife.

After further thought, I’d given up on the mob hit. Mona was killed with a trophy, not a bat. She had to have been killed in of a moment of passion. If it had been planned, the killer would have brought a weapon.

That left Jo. Jo wanted Mona for… I hadn’t figured that part out. What did Jo want? To make a name for herself? If Mona Michaels was a believer, wouldn’t that draw a larger client base? But Jo had stupidly predicted Mona’s death. So if Mona didn’t die, people would believe she was a fake.

I was missing something. Jo needed Mona alive and dead. Unless Jo was in cahoots with Tricia. Or Cliff. Now that would be something. I needed to talk to Jo. But first, I was about to find out the biggest motive of all.

Mona’s will.

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was a gathering of the crazy people.

“This-isn’t-how-we-typically-handle-estate-disbursements-but- these-are-rather-unusual-circumstances,” Owen Quinn talked at warp-speed. He looked like a miniature action figure sitting behind his chunky cherry wood desk.

There were four of us: Tricia, Alex, myself, and the surprise guest of the afternoon-Cliff. We were seated in Owen’s corner office with an ocean view. Our swivel leather chairs formed a semicircle around his desk as if it were a campfire. Instead of singing Boom Chicka Boom, we waited to hear if our lives were going to be enriched by Mona’s wealth.

Boy, were we in for a rude awakening.

“Each of you is named in Mona’s will.” Owen stood. At least I think he did; he was vertically challenged, which made it difficult to know for certain. He passed everyone a handful of papers with red “sign here” tabs sticking out the right side. So far Tricia’s description of the meeting was dead on.

He paced behind his desk. “Now, as you can see, Ms. Michaels left all of you something-”

“It says she left me her cars.”

That was Alex. He’d acted as if we barely knew each other. I played along for now.

“The housekeeper didn’t bother to show. Does she get to keep the money?”

That was Cliff. The cad.

“I don’t see Melinda’s name. Why is she here?”

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, that was Tricia.

“Melinda was named Fluffy’s guardian,” Owen explained.

“She really gets Fluffy?” Tricia whined, spinning her chair in my direction.

“Very well played, indeed.” Alex muttered under his breath. He seemed to approve of my guardianship. Maybe he’d trade me, the cars for the dog.

“I should get Fluffy,” Cliff bellowed.

“Mona left the ARL three million dollars?” Tricia complained.

Don Furry would be ecstatic to learn he’d get his donation after all.

“Please don’t get caught up in what Mona left you. Or didn’t leave you. Okay? The reason for this meeting is to inform all of you she filed for bankruptcy a month ago. She had no assets. Only bills.” Owen’s oversized eyebrows danced with each word, his impatience with us evident.