CHAPTER ONE
I looked at the name on my cell phone and cringed. In the months since I’d decided to hire a private investigator to find my long lost skunk of a dad, it had been an up and down roller coaster ride of emotions.
Did I really want to find out what had happened to Felonius Chance III? Or was I better off living out my life not knowing?
Up until that moment I’d let the decision float around on the winds of chance—no pun intended. But since PI Calford Amity was calling on a Thursday morning, rather than our usual Monday afternoon weekly meeting…I could only assume he’d found something.
Or he’d finally succumbed to the voodoo I’d been practicing to make him fall in love with me. I wasn’t holding out much hope of that since I was a spoiled little rich girl from Indianapolis, Indiana and therefore sucked at voodoo.
“Hey, Cal. What’s up?” I mentally braced for the husky magic of his deep voice, knowing it would roll over me like warm butter and turn me all gooey like a cinnamon bun.
“Miss Chance. I’ve found him.”
And there they were. The three words (okay five) that I’d been both praying for and dreading. I swallowed hard. “Are you sure?” Was that hope in my voice? Or dread? Or hopeful dread?
“I’m sure. One of the coins turned up.”
My gaze slid toward the closet, where the bag I’d packed in the first fever of parental loss sat ready and waiting beside my floor-to-ceiling purse rack.
I grimaced. Nobody should have that many purses. “Where is he?”
“A place called Sinful, Louisiana. I’m booked on a flight out this morning. It leaves at eleven.”
I laughed. “Funny. Where is he really?” A stark silence met my question and I frowned, realizing he wasn’t kidding. “Well, a place called Sinful would be fitting.”
My always circumspect, a.k.a tight assed, PI didn’t respond. That was probably just as well. If anybody knew the extent of my father’s debauchery at that point it was uber sexy Cal Amity. He’d been buried up to his perfect Greek nose in it for weeks.
“Get me a ticket too. I’m going with you.” And I was. I didn’t know why I’d decided to face my father’s perfidy up close and personal. But apparently I had. I was already reaching for my suitcase.
I was heading to the Bayou.
Grimacing, I realized the dresses and heels I’d packed for the trip weren’t going to go with the hip waders and gator repellent I’d need.
Unzipping the bag, I disconnected and stood staring down at the three inch heels I’d laid over the top of my favorite pink suit. Was there such a thing as gator repellent? If there was I’d definitely need it.
My phone rang again and I answered without looking at caller ID. “I know, I’m bringing bug spray and sensible shoes.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Felicity?”
My smile dripped from my face like pancake makeup in the Louisiana sun. “Oh. Hi, Breze.”
My evil stepmother sighed at the tone in my voice. “Why must you always say my name like it’s something on the bottom of your shoe?”
Because I believe everyone should get the respect they deserve.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s up?” Grabbing the frou frou I’d packed, I threw most of it on my bed and went to gather up more suitable clothing for the trip.
“I was wondering if you’d heard anything about your father.”
The hopeful tone in her voice almost made me feel guilty for hating her. Then I remembered seeing her schtupping the pool boy the week before my father disappeared and I pushed the nub of guilt away. I’d had to bleach my brain for a week just so I could get through a day without throwing up.
For the record, gin and tonic is a highly effective brain bleach. And if you add a spritz of lime you get a portion of your day’s vitamin C too. Win win. “Funny you should ask. My PI just called. He thinks he’s located dad. We’re getting on a plane in a couple of
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