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Evening Bags and Executions(67)

By:Dorothy Howell


I sat at my desk staring off at nothing and thinking that maybe I could call in an anonymous tip to the police. But I had no way of knowing how long it would take for the info to reach the right people. With the entire LAPD searching for him, Renaldi might be jumping around, staying for only a short time at different places. I had to move fast.

And that meant my only other choice was to tell Shuman.

I got out of my desk chair and walked to the window. I stood looking down at the traffic on Sepulveda Boulevard and let the idea swirl around in my head for a while.

If I gave Shuman the address, if I told him where to find the dirtbag who murdered Amanda, I was pretty sure I knew how he’d handle it.

Then another horrible thought came to me. What if I gave this info to Shuman, he acted on it, and he got hurt or killed. How would I live with that?

But if Shuman were in my position, what would he do? What would I want him to do?

He was my friend. So really, it wasn’t much of a choice at all.





I couldn’t stay in the office for long, not with Vanessa mad-dogging me every time I passed her in the hallway and my living in constant fear that my name would come up in the rotation again and I would be assigned another kid’s or dog’s birthday party—I still wasn’t sure which was worse—so I had to get out of there as quickly as I could.

That, unfortunately, meant I first had to do some actual work.

I checked L.A. Affairs’ list of approved vendors and hired a security firm for the Beatles memorabilia at Sheridan Adams’s house, then called Muriel.

“Any word from the kidnapper?” I asked when she picked up.

I didn’t know what else to call the culprit. “Bobblehead-napper” seemed a little lengthy to me.

“Not yet,” Muriel said in a low voice. “Things are su-perintense around here.”

I figured that was code for Sheridan-is-still-running-around-the-house-screaming-like-the-crazy-woman-she-is.

“I hired a security firm. I’ll text you the info,” I said. “They can start this evening.”

“Good. I’ll let you know when I hear something,” Muriel said, and we hung up.

I sat at my desk and texted her, then found myself more than a little annoyed that I hadn’t yet heard back from Jack. I really wanted to talk to him before I had to deliver the ransom money—there were probably some stealthy private detective moves he could share with me. I figured he must have been doing something important—which was probably also way cool—if he hadn’t returned my call. I found myself a little envious.

I wonder if Jack would like a partner.

The idea swirled around in my head for a minute or two, which made me even more anxious to escape my office.

I checked my e-mail and cringed when I saw that Annette had sent me a message. I forced myself to open it and saw that she was asking for a different idea for her puppy Minnie’s birthday celebration—just how she knew Minnie wasn’t loving my Hollywood or garden party suggestions I don’t know. I replied with the first thing that popped into my head—a Star Wars theme.

If Minnie loved the idea I would definitely have to use the Force to figure out how to pull it off.

Then I saw that Maeve had also e-mailed me about food and beverages for the birthday party for her twin girls. I dashed off a quick reply stating that the only way I could see getting through the event was with a full bar and a dozen hot-looking guys who would tend bar without their shirts on.

Then I came to my senses and deleted the message.

“Enough . . .” I mumbled.

I got my things and left the office.





I called Tiberia Marsh on my cell phone as I took the 405 south.

“The gift bags are finished already?” she asked. “How wonderful. I can’t wait to see them.”

“I’m headed your way now,” I said.

“Of course. Please, come,” she told me.

All I could figure was that Distinctive Gifting must be a fabulous place to work, because Tiberia was always upbeat and in a great mood.

Jeez, I wonder what that would be like.

I exited west on Santa Monica Boulevard, then cut over to Melrose Avenue and found the Distinctive Gifting office among a row of upscale businesses. I pulled into their driveway and parked behind the building. A large van was backed up to a service entrance and a couple of men with dollies were carting boxes inside.

I gave Tiberia a call and told her I’d arrived. A minute later a tall, super-slender, dark-skinned woman walked out the rear door. She had on a long sheath dress in deep purple, jeweled sandals, and lots of chunky accessories. Her thick black hair stood straight out. The look gave her a chic, sophisticated appeal.

“Haley, I’m delighted to meet you,” Tiberia said, and threw her arms around me.