Duffel Bags And Drownings by Dorothy Howell Page A

had strung twinkle lights, wired the sound system
     for the band that would arrive later, and set up buffet tables, bars, and seating
     groups with comfy furniture. The swimming pool would be dyed green, filled with goldfish—I’d
     been assured the green water wouldn’t do them any harm—then covered with plexiglass
     and used as a dance floor.
    It wouldn’t be a St. Patrick’s Day bash without lots of alcohol. The mixology crew
     I’d hired was keeping it green with emerald mint martinis, kiwi coladas, honeydew
     mimosas, and, of course, green beer.
    Cady Faye Catering had planned a menu of Irish stew, corn chowder, corned beef brisket
     and cabbage, and an array of green finger foods. The dessert bar—where I intended
     to spent a great deal of my time this evening—would feature mint chocolate pudding,
     and cupcakes topped with sugar shamrocks.
    On my earlier visit this afternoon, I’d seen that everything was going smoothly and
     was on schedule, so I’d seen no need to hang around—especially when I had pressing
     personal business to take care of.
    I’d dashed over to Nordstrom at The Grove, just a few minutes away, to pick up the
     Flirtatious handbags Marcie’s friend was holding for us. She was at lunch, so I had
     to wait around for about fifteen minutes. No big deal. I’d distracted myself looking
     at—okay, trying on—capris and sundresses. I mean, really, I had to have something
     appropriate to wear with my fabulous, yummy yellow Flirtatious satchel, right?
    Somehow, time had gotten away from me. I’d picked up the Flirtatious handbags—concealed
     in a shopping bag to avoid a stampede if they were seen—and headed back to the Brannock
     home. The party wasn’t schedule to start for another hour-plus, so I wasn’t seriously
     late.
    I drove past their house and turned at the corner, looking for a parking space on
     a nearby street. As events went, the Brannocks’ was easier than most but I still had
     to focus on the job. That meant I had to put the whole thing about Cady’s divorce
     and Jeri’s murder out of my head.
    I still hadn’t heard back from Dan. I guess my maybe-I-found-something-important message
     wasn’t all that important to him.
    A spot at the curb was open so I swooped in, gathered my things, and headed back toward
     the Brannocks’ street. The neighborhood was quiet. The sun was setting, casting shadows.
     Tall trees rustled slightly.
    Up ahead just a little farther down the block, a gray Honda Pilot stopped in the street.
     It idled there for a few seconds, then Cady got out.
    I froze.
    Cady waved to the driver and blew a kiss. The Pilot drove off and she started walking
     toward the Brannock home.
    Even though I knew Cady was having an affair and had been to an attorney, it made
     my blood boil seeing it played out in front of me. Of course, I knew nothing about
     Cady’s marriage, her husband, or what kind of relationship they had—except for a couple
     of unfavorable comments I’d heard from Faye and Lourdes. I knew I shouldn’t judge,
     but it bugged me just the same.
    I followed Cady, my mind whirling with everything I knew about Jeri’s murder and my
     suspicion that Cady was involved. I knew this wasn’t the time to discuss it with her,
     not at tonight’s event, anyway. I could do it tomorrow.
    Or could I?
    The green duffel bag sprang into my head.
    Oh my God, was it hers? Did it belong to Cady?
    It was packed with sexy clothes for a romantic getaway and she was having an affair,
     so it definitely could have belonged to her.
    What if Cady was planning to leave town tonight after the event? What if she was gone
     a long time and days passed before I got the chance to talk to her?
    I quickened my pace. Cady didn’t seem to realize I was behind her. I followed her
     around the corner and down the Brannocks’ street, and caught up with her just as she
     got to the Cady Faye Catering van parked in the driveway.
    The rear doors were open. Nobody else