Page 161 of Summers at the Saint
She dumped the dishes in the sink and sat back down at the table.
“After I left the jail I dropped by Shannon’s to check on Livvy, who, by the way, seems to be relatively unscathed. Of course, she’s still processing everything that’s happened, and still mourning Parrish. She showed me a selfie she snapped of the two of them, when they were on the way to the afterparty. Both dressed in their Hawaiian-print dresses, their faces pressed close together with these goofy smiles…”
“Parrish wasn’t goofy very often. She must have been having a good time that night,” Felice said wistfully.
“Both Shannon and I were suddenly struck by how much they looked alike in that picture,” Traci said. “And it started me thinking…”
“You think maybe the murderer didn’t intend to kill Parrish? That it literallywasan accident? But why would someone target Livvy?” Whelan asked.
“Livvy saw Cedric, the guy from the band, chatting Parrish up, handing her a Solo cup, presumably of punch, and a joint. The guy didn’t know Parrish, or Livvy. Maybe someone just told him—”
“Paid him, probably,” Felice put in.
“Hired him to hit on the pretty girl in the flowered dress,” Traci continued.
“But why?” Felice asked.
“This is a long shot, but what if someone found out that Livvy stood to inherit a big chunk of Fred Eddings’s money? And they wanted to stop that from happening—at any cost.”
“I was under the impression that nobody knew that Livvy was Fred’s child, or that the will had been changed,” Whelan said.
“Me too,” Traci said. “But what if someone else knew about the NDA Shannon was forced to sign? What if they found out right after Ric got his dad to change the will?”
Felice shook her head. “Livvy told me it was a big dark secret who her daddy was.”
“Who else knew that Fred was Livvy’s father?” Whelan asked.
“Andy Plankenhorn, obviously, and Shannon’s lawyer, but he died years ago.”
“If Livvy’s out of the way, Ric Eddings gets to inherit the whole enchilada, right?”
“In theory. But what if someone elsedidknow about the NDA?” Traci said.
“Like who?” Felice asked. She’d been watching the back-and- forth like a spectator at a Ping-Pong match with rules she didn’t quite understand.
“Madelyn Eddings. After Fred was too frail to live alone in the big house, she personally took charge of moving everything out of that oceanfront house, and then moving him into Gardenia. Maybe she found a copy of that NDA when she was cleaning out his office?”
“So helpful,” Whelan quipped.
“Ugh. I never did like that lady,” Felice said. “Sticking her nose in our business at the restaurant, coming around all the time, having special lunches with Garrett.”
“You saw her with Garrett?” Traci asked.
“Yeah. A lot. She hadopinionsabout the dining room. This one time, I went into the storage room, and they were just coming out, looking kinda sex-drunk, and I remember thinking if it was anyone else, I’d think they were back in there doing the nasty. But she’s waaay older than him, got a rich husband. Why would she be messing with some little waiter?”
“Maybe she wanted revenge on Ric. Everybody in town knows he was running around on Madelyn.”
“Maybe.” Whelan looked dubious.
Felice stood up, yawning. “Mrs. E, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my pain meds and go to bed now.” She turned to Whelan. “And thank you, Mr. Whelan, for the dinner. When I get these bandages off, I’ll play around with some recipes, come up with a menu for an Asian-themed dinner, later in the summer.”
“Please invite me, when you do that,” Whelan said.
“Good night, Felice,” Traci said. “Get some rest.”
Whelan pointed to the wine bottle he’d set on the counter. “The guy at the liquor store promised me that this is an excellent pairing with subpar Chinese food. Wanna give it a try?”
They took the wine out onto the screened porch, and Lola trotted out to find a place on the wicker sofa between Whelan and her mistress.
