Page 47 of Macaron Massacre
“Interesting. Another Teflon don. You do realize that he likely spoke to the killer.”
“He might have. But I’m not sure just anyone can get that high up in their organization and talk to the boss. He’s got men who arrange and handle the hits. Let’s assume that’s what happened. I just don’t want you on his radar. Don’t talk to him, Lemon. I’d ask you to promise me that, but I think I know better.”
I bite down a smile as I give his hand a squeeze.
The service goes off without a hitch. At one point Rich slumped farther to his right, but after the gasping and the brief cries of terror ceased, the service resumed as usual. Not one soul got up to speak on his behalf, and, in all honesty, I don’t think it was that big of a deal. And, even though he never met him, Pastor Gaines did a wonderful job of eulogizing Rich, whom he kept calling Rick.
The funeral wraps up, and the room quickly drains as the mourners head next door for refreshments. I spot my mother having a conversation up front with Gloria, and unbeknownst to them Nell is hovering by their side.
“I’d better help my mother.” I shrug up at Everett.
He doesn’t look too impressed and eyes the exit instead. “Looks like the goof troop has arrived.”
I glance over to find Noah and Ivy heading this way.
Noah looks downright angry as he nods toward the altar. “Can you believe that?”
Ivy, the leggy redhead by his side, smirks. “I’ve seen it before. It’s a tacky trend that’s sweeping the nation.”
A dull laugh dies in my chest. “That’s one trend I think I’ll bow out of.”
Noah looks to Everett. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure.” Everett takes off with Noah, and Ivy does a disappearing act herself, so I seize the opportunity, and instead of making a beeline for my mother—heck, I’ve got Nell there, her ears are just as good as mine—I accidentally on purpose bump into the handsome devil—and I’m not being loose with the term—standing next to Claret.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say as I brush my hands over Louie the Lion’s jacket as if dusting him off. “I was just about to say hello.” I look to Claret and offer a forlorn smile. “You did good.”
“Thank you.” Claret cinches her purse over her shoulder and gives a brief glance to the vicinity. “Let’s hope there’s good food and lots of wine. Because I am ready toparty.”
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that after a funeral, I’d have nothing.
I turn to the lion prowling among us and note that creepy grin of his never seems to leave his face. “Do you work with Claret?”
“I’m her boss.” He holds out a hand. “Louie.”
“Her boss?” I feign an appropriate amount of surprise. “Super nice to meet you.” I give a guilty glance toward the back and note that both Noah and Everett are staring my way with their arms crossed disapprovingly across their chests. I turn my back to them and their justified judgment. “So, did you know her father?”
Michelle taps Claret on the shoulder, and she excuses herself for a moment as she joins her sisters once again.
Perfect. I’ve got the don all to myself.
Louie leans in. “I knew him well. We played sports together.” I suck in a quick breath. Sports? I bet that’s code for underground poker! “Soccer, and on the rare occasion golf. But primarily we shot the breeze, played a few card games.”
Okay, socard gamesis apparently the code for underground poker.
“Was he any good at cards? I heard Rich couldn’t tell his own hand from his neighbors.” I’m not entirely sure if that even makes sense, but I’m flying on the seat of my pants.
Just give me a clue, Louie, anything, anything at all, I beg with my eyes.
“He was good.” Louie nods reflectively. “In fact, he won big just a minute before he was offed. It’s a shame he never had a chance to collect.”
So that’s where his sudden windfall came from! Theory confirmed.
“That’s too bad. I’d say his timing was terrible, but he was killed.” I lift a brow and lean in. “If you were to guess what kind of a person would—you know,off him, what kind of person would that be?” His eyes narrow in on mine, and his lips purse suddenly as if he were trying to decode what I was saying.
Claret bops back with a toothy smile. “Careful what you say to this one.” She gives my arm a friendly pat. “Lottie is Honey Hollow’s premier amateur sleuth.”
And there goes that good time.