Page 18 of Shenanigans

The crowning jewel of Heritage Park was the Rosson House, a fully restored 1895 Queen Ann Victorian manor. The charity benefit had been set up in the gardens. Under colorful fairy lights dozens of tables covered with pristine white linens were lined up. A Latin band played on the balcony. Beneath them Enrique and Jana did a smokin’ hot cha- cha on a temporary dance floor. An enthusiastic crowd had gathered to watch them.

I spotted Frederick glad-handing all the important guests. I’ll never understand what Jana saw in the toad. Okay, I’d admit Frederick was attractive and when he put his mind to it, he could be charming. At heart, however, he was a narcissistic ass and he hated the fact Jana was more successful than him.

Buffy, his date, was wearing a hideous orange satin dress with a huge pink bow perched on her back like fairy wings. The monstrosity was so tight she was forced to take little mincing steps.

I watched Frederick getting angrier and angrier. He didn’t like all the attention Jana’s and Enrique’s dance routine was getting. If looks could kill, they would be toes up.

Tinkerbell let out a mournful howl.

“What?”

Arf. Arf. Arf.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll call your mom again.”I dialed Maria’s number for the twelfth time. Once more, the phone went straight to voicemail. I tried to ignore the little voice in my head that said she was dead.

“Sorry. She’s still not answering.”

Tinkerbell stared up at me with sad eyes and whimpered.

“I’m worried too.”

Arf. Arf. Arf.

“I promise. I will find her.”

A low growl rumbled in Tinkerbell’s chest.

“Dutch is here? That was quick.”

Arf. Arf. Arf. Arf. Arf.

“You’re right, it’s probably the first time a little old nun has kicked his butt.”Dutch stepped out of the shadows still wearing his biker garb. My stomach clenched. In the middle of all the tuxedoed males, the detective stood out like a predator among sheep.

Woof. Woof.

I laughed.“He does have a nice shiner and he’s limping pretty good too.”

Tinkerbell gave me a doggie grin. Arf. Arf. Arf. Arf.

“Nah, I don’t think he’s gonna turn into the walking dead.”

Dutch’s fierce gaze surveyed the guests. It skimmed over me. His body stiffened, and his head snapped back around. The expression on his face could only be described as gotcha.

My own parents wouldn’t recognize me, huh?

Enrique and Jana finished their dance with a flourish.

The crowd applauded loudly.

His mouth a grim line, Frederick pulled Buffy out on the dance floor, almost trampling my very best friend. “Leave.”

Jana gave him her best eat shit and die glare before leaving the dance floor with Enrique.

The band broke into a lively Tango.

This should be interesting.

Buffy twirled her arms around like a dysfunctional helicopter and jerked her head forward as if she was trying to puke.

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