Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
To Do:
- Flee somewhere off the grid
- Steel-toed boots for kicking ESA in the balls?
- Load decor
Claire woke up the day of the charity gala with her heart in her throat. It was no big deal. Just the biggest fundraising event of her lifetime with incredibly high stakes. If she didn’t succeed tonight, the shelter would have to close. And she was planning it all while she and her family were being targeted by a bunch of serial killers. Awesome.
Walter Smith, the long-suffering detective who had worked with Claire since Barney had broken into her apartment over a year ago, had confiscated the tulips. He had left with promises to contact the Los Angeles and Miami police departments. It wouldn’t lead to anything. ESA wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t a spare second on her calendar to get involved in the investigation, but the mystery beckoned. The murder board from the hotel had been all but abandoned in the flurry of business events, but once she was on that plane to California, ESA was going down. Nobody threatened her family.
She whirled through her morning like a tornado full of razor blades and barbed wire. Casino deliveries and setup were scheduled to start at noon. She needed to check with the caterers and the bartenders and make sure the country club had used the right linens. And then there was the talent show, a last-minute brainchild of Mindy after an entire pot of coffee.
“Breakfast burrito?” Luke asked as she tornadoed into the kitchen. Bags hung under his eyes. Hopefully he hadn’t spent the night watching the outdoor security cameras again.
She picked up her purse and a garment bag and kissed both dogs on the snoot. “I can’t. I have to get going or I’ll be late.”
“You’re mean when your blood sugar drops,” Luke reminded her.
Damn it. She paused with one hand on the door. Her heels clacked against the tile as she took the warm, foil-wrapped bundle from him. “I appreciate you.”
He grunted. His stubble scratched against her as she swooped in for a kiss.
“See you later?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’ll be there around five. I’m helping the shelter with transport. Mindy’s going to be there with you, right?”
“Yes, Mindy and a dozen other workers from the country club. Don’t worry. I’m not in any danger.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Well, no more than usual. Thanks for going along with my crazy schemes,” she called as she closed the front door behind her. It was go time. She had some disabled pets to save.
Two hours later, Claire and Mindy were hanging a banner above the stage in the country club ballroom.
“Did you check the presales?” Mindy asked as she gripped her corner of the banner. A stapler was clamped between her teeth.
“No,” Claire admitted. “I was too afraid.”
“Two hundred.” Mindy’s voice was muffled by the stapler.
Claire’s stomach clenched. The country club had set up tables to accommodate 500. Despite all their canvassing, all the flyers and radio spots and social media harassment, it wasn’t enough. They were going to be completely humiliated if the room was barely more than a third full. Not to mention the sheer amount of food that would go to waste.
“It’s not so bad,” Mindy said as she stapled the banner in place. “That’s still more than enough to break even without accounting for the auction.”
“This is a disaster,” Claire muttered. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. “We’re not here to break even. We’re here to save the rescue. We can’t save it with two hundred people.”
“Marnie did a TV spot this morning, and I’d bet we’ll still have some walk-ins who pay the door price.” She tossed the stapler to Claire.
Claire stapled her end of the banner with more force than was necessary and stepped off the ladder. The banner mocked her. Differently Abled Pet Talent Show, it read in bold crimson letters. Maybe if some of the animals were adopted tonight, the money from the gala would stretch a little further.
Bang. A door in the corner opened, and Claire screamed and threw the stapler. Was ESA storming the country club?
“Whoopsie,” said Stephanie, the head chef for the country club. She sidestepped the stapler and walked over with a plate of hors d’oeuvres. “Care to try?”
Why did everyone in West Haven open doors so violently? Claire popped a crab puff in her mouth. She would never admit it, but Yuffie, the Russian caterer with an attitude problem, made better puffs. Still, if everyone drank enough booze, they would more than suffice.
“Delicious,” she said over a mouthful of flaky pastry. “The guests will love them.”
Stephanie beamed and left the room.
“Truth?” Mindy asked.
Claire wiggled her hand back and forth, lips pressed into a grim smile. This was not the glitzy, glamorous event she had hoped for. Sure, she only had a week and a half to throw it together. But this was nowhere near the gold standard she had set for Happily Ever Afters.
Mindy nodded. “It’ll be okay. Let me make sure the bars are well-stocked,” she said in a whisper. “If we liquor these people up enough, they’ll be generous with their checkbooks no matter what the apps taste like.”
“Good plan.” As usual, booze was their only hope. Maybe they should have a drinking game during the talent show. She jotted the idea down on her clipboard and took a surreptitious glance around the ballroom. Mindy had disappeared, and Stephanie the lackluster chef had taken her crab puffs back to the kitchen.
Claire hustled over to her purse and pushed aside a ziplock bag full of alfalfa. Against her better judgment, she had consulted with her stepmother about prosperity magic. Tanya, a practicing Wiccan, had left her laden with herbs.
A dried basil leaf stuck out of her wallet. Though it was supposed to attract money, the only thing it had successfully attracted so far was an overwhelming craving for lasagna. A spray bottle tumbled into her hand. The label read “tincture of alfalfa and chamomile—spray over doorways.”
She sighed and bit her lip. Spraying the doorways with this mist wasn’t going to make the event more prosperous. If anything, it was probably just going to set off people’s allergies.
But it was too late to turn back. The smell of old lady tea crept into the room as she hosed the doorways down with the mist. She sprayed the blackjack, poker, and roulette tables for good measure.
What was next? Another plastic bag crinkled as she removed it. “Aloe—put above doorways.” She turned back to the doors. Luckily, the ledge was wide enough to accommodate a few aloe leaves. She sprinkled them and then tossed the bags in the trash.
Now that she had littered the ballroom with hokey magic that would, if anything, probably backfire, it was time to decorate. Glitz and glam with pops of red and black to fit the casino theme. A garment bag slung over a chair caught her eye. Inside was an outfit so outrageous that she would need half a bottle of wine just to put it on.
Several hours later, Claire was hot gluing a scarlet bow on a rather stubborn centerpiece—luckily, it was the last one—when Mindy burst through the doors at the back of the ballroom.
“You’re not going to believe this.”
Claire glanced at her watch. There was only half an hour ‘til the doors were due to open. Maybe a sporting event had been cancelled and some of the patrons had wound up here?
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Just come with me. You have to see it.” Mindy grabbed her wrist, and Claire nearly tripped over the hem of her glittering red evening gown as she staggered after her.
Mindy tugged her to the doors in front of the venue. Some guests had arrived and were milling about. Luckily it was a very mild evening, and the predicted rain had never come.
“Okay? So?”
“Look at the back of the lot.”
“Is that?—”
Mindy jabbed a finger. “ Three coach buses. That’s another two hundred people easily. The assisted living facility ads must have worked.”
“Oh, thank god.” Claire backed away from the window and leaned against the wall. Her heart beat furiously, but this time it came without the urge to throw up and die. “Can we go through the checklist again?”
“Of course. First, everyone will be funneled toward the bars on either side and encouraged to look at the calendars and the artwork,” Mindy said, gesturing to the framed pieces on the walls that had been donated by local artists. “I’ve enlisted a couple relatives to make slightly misleading statements about the value of some of the portraits.”
Claire glowered.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s for a good cause. Next, when people are sufficiently toasty from their sneakily strong drinks, they’ll be allowed to look over the gambling tables and find their seats. When people are seated, we’ll start the talent show and serve dinner.”
“Do we really have to put on those ridiculous outfits for the talent show?”
“Hell yes. Sex sells, Claire,” Mindy said, poking her with each word. “God has given you two voluptuous gifts. If you’re not going to share them with the world to save some innocent dogs, I never knew you at all.”
“Fine.” Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “And next we’ll do the auction?”
Mindy nodded. “Right, we don’t want people to blow all their money gambling first.”
“Do you think it’ll be enough?” Claire turned back to the horde of people outside.
“It’ll have to be.”
Claire glanced at her phone. “Oh, Bri’s here. I better go let her in the back. We can do this, right?”
“Did you see the amount of gold chains on those retirees out there? Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll buy some time for the rescue, and then we’ll absolutely kill it in LA.”
“I hope so. By the way, I’m also planning a premiere for Luke’s documentary.”
Mindy dropped the roll of tape. It bounced on the carpeted floor and disappeared under a welcome table. “You’re what ?”