Shades of Stars (Lola Pink Mysteries Book 2)

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah,” I said. “He asked me on a date to a funeral.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Okay, he didn’t ask me out to a funeral. But we are going to Andrea’s ceremony in the morning,” I said with a sigh. “I mean, I suppose I’d like to ask him where things are headed between the two of us—romantically—but it’s too weird this close to Andrea’s death. I need to give some time for things to settle.”

  “I suppose,” Babs said with a frown. “So about this funeral—you didn’t know Andrea at all, did you?”

  “I met her once,” I said defensively. Babs wasn’t convinced, so I continued, “Yes, we’re worried her killer might be there. If it was an act of passion, maybe her killer is feeling remorse and will have come to say their goodbyes.”

  “Well, I guess I should say my goodbyes, too.”

  “You never met her.”

  “Nope, but if there’s a chance of drama, I want a front row seat.” Babs leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Goodnight, Lo. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Chapter 15

  THE NEXT MORNING DAWNED sunny and bright.

  And completely wrong.

  Everything was wrong about it, but it took me a long while to put my finger on what exactly was off. That’s when I realized it wasn’t something additional making the morning feel weird, it was the lack of everything else.

  Nobody named Richard pounded at my door, nobody named Babs whirled in unannounced, and nobody named Johnny swung a sledgehammer or fired up an electric drill. The place was silent. It’d been so long since I’d sat alone in my own house that it felt downright eerie.

  I glanced at the clock, surprised to find the sunlight already in my eyes. Where was Johnny and crew? Usually they arrived before...Oh, no! The sunlight! I flew out of bed and rubbed my eyes as I stared closer at the clock.

  “Oh, crap!”

  Thankfully, I wasn’t scheduled to be at the castle for my usual nine a.m. start time this morning. Instead, I’d planned to head straight to the church for Andrea’s funeral ceremony at ten thirty. According to my clock, it was already ten, and I wasn’t dressed, washed, or fed. Surely the rest of Clark Company would already be heading toward the funeral, wondering what was so important that the personal assistant to the boss had to miss the ceremony.

  Scrounging in my closet I pulled out the same black dress that I usually saved for first dates, slipped into it and added a shawl. A pair of low black heels topped off the outfit and as for my bright pink purse—it was staying. There was no time to transfer everything over to a more subdued shade—I’d just have to tuck it under my shawl when I entered the church. I slipped my new pair of Angelo sunglasses onto my head and took the stairs two at a time.

  I skipped coffee and breakfast, tossed a tic tac container in my purse for nourishment, and called my morning routine good. Since everyone I knew was either at work or en route to the funeral, I was left with my bike for transportation. Toting my bright pink purse, I hopped aboard and began a vicious pedal toward the largest church on the Sunshine Shore.

  Fifteen minutes later I screeched to a halt. The church loomed before me, a gorgeous structure on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Everyone said it was a beautiful backdrop for wedding photos and baptisms, and it appeared to be just as beautiful for a funeral. However, the cliffs looked sharper, the water crisper, the ocean more dangerous than usual.

  As I surveyed the view, a honk from behind startled me, and I hauled my bike up the hill and locked it against a sign post just as an expensive Jaguar pulled to a stop. To my surprise, I recognized the faces as they stepped from the car: Dane’s parents, and another man similar in age. Probably Randall’s brother, Anders Clark.

  The Clark clan didn’t see me right away, so I ducked my head and tried to vanish before they could witness my vehicle of choice. However, I stopped mid-spin as I caught sight of an expensive new Tesla arriving. I recognized the faces in that car, as well: Andrea’s parents. It startled me to see the hippie-ish pair owning such a spendy new vehicle. It jarred with the personalities I’d seen when Babs and I had visited.

  “Lola, is that you?” Amanda Clark’s clipped voice rang in my ears, freezing me in place.

  With one hand on my bike seat, I turned and forced a smile back at Dane’s parents. “Mrs. Clark. How are you?”

  “I’m well.” She hesitated, taking a moment to scan my dress. “You do know that this is a funeral and not a speed dating event?”

  I glanced down, patting the fabric against my legs. The dress almost reached my knees while the arms were outfitted with long, lace sleeves. A modest V-neck crossed my chest and allowed room for a small silver necklace.

  “Hi there, I’m Anders.” The third person from the Clark’s vehicle held out a hand and gave a smile. “You must be one of Dane’s staff?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said quickly. “She’s his personal assistant.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I accepted Anders’s proffered hand and gave it a shake. “You’re Mr. Clark’s brother?”

  “Guilty as charged.” With salt and pepper hair, a warm smile, and eyes the color of blueberries, he seemed the softer, friendlier version of Randall Clark. He winked. “For what it’s worth, I think you look lovely today.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “Come on, Randall. Let’s find our seats before the church is full—we’re already running late.”

  “Don’t let her ruin your fun,” Anders said with a laugh as his brother and sister-in-law disappeared. “So, you must be the one he’s been talking about.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Who?”

  “Dane. Not that he talks all that much, as I’m sure you know, but last week we did have a conference call, and he mentioned he had hired a new personal assistant a while back which, in itself, was unusual. Dane doesn’t bother himself with trivial things.”

  “Oh. Trivial things, of course.”

  “No, you’re not a trivial thing! That’s my point. People come and go in the business, and he’s so busy brokering deals for millions and inventing the next new gadget that he doesn’t have time for anything else—including fun, no matter how much I’ve tried to convince him otherwise. When he talked about you, though, he sounded different. Happier, I’d venture.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Mr. Clark...” I trailed off, feeling the intense pressure of the infamous Clark gaze. I sensed he’d know if I lied, so instead, I opted for silence.

  “I see,” he said quietly. “Well, I’ll let you go inside. Sorry for your loss. I had never met the woman, but it’s a tragedy she’s gone so soon.”

  “It is.” I glanced down at my hands which were giving away my nerves, twisting and turning in front of my body. When I glanced up, Anders had already returned to the driver’s side door of his vehicle. “Oh, and Mr. Clark?”

  He looked over the car. “Yes?”

  “Please don’t say anything to him—or his parents. I don’t think they like me much.”

  “Of course not.” He grinned again as he began to slip inside. “I suppose I’ll see you around then.”

  I smiled back. “I suppose so.”

  I slipped into the church. At the lectern, a man in a suit was speaking to a crowd dressed in black. I spotted the Clark family at a pew in the middle of church. Moving off to the side, I took a long minute debating whether I should wait out the ceremony back here, alone, or chance a walk down the aisle to join Mrs. Dulcet in the row behind the Clarks.

  Dane turned mid-debate, his eyes searching through the crowd, his height giving him an advantage over ninety percent of the mourners. His gaze sailed over my head and, for a moment, my heart stopped as he missed me.

  Screw it, I decided in a sudden burst of confidence. I wanted to sit next to Dane. He was clearly looking for me. Was I going to let a little thing like his mother’s disapproval stop me from standing beside the man I loved?

  I stepped deliberately into t
he aisle, passing by a row of cops intermingled with the mourners, and marched—very quietly—down the red carpeting until I arrived next to Dane. I watched his face for a reaction as I brushed my hand against his shoulder, my heart thudding as a look of surprise hit him first. Then slowly, it morphed into one of delight, and he quickly shuffled deeper into the pew to allow space for me.

  “I saved you a seat,” he whispered, easing an arm behind my back and pulling me to his side. “I’m glad you made it. Is everything okay?”

  I nodded. With those simple words, my worries disappeared. And when Mrs. Clark stared right past me, I barely noticed. Because Dane pressed a kiss to my forehead, grasped my hand, and for the rest of the ceremony, he never let go.

  Chapter 16

  “IRONICALLY, SHE WOULD have liked this funeral, don’t you think?” A woman standing around next to me clucked and shook her head as she spoke in low tones.

  I turned to reply before realizing that she was speaking to a man on her other side, and the conversation clearly wasn’t meant for my ears. The woman who’d spoken was dressed in a fashionable business suit, trendy jewelry, and had a pair of sunglasses in hand that drew my eye even in this time of sadness.

  “Her death is unfortunate,” the man agreed. His bright blond hair stuck straight up in a way that was probably meant to be all the rage. He held a cigarette in one hand, and judging by the thin, almost-emaciated build of his body, he puffed on that thing more than he ate junk food and was dying to get outside and light it. Just a hint of a lisp escaped as he spoke again. “But what are you going to do about it?”

  “There’s nothing more to do.” The woman sighed, more out of weariness than sadness. “I already have Leslie lined up for the show. She offered to step up of course, but everything will be all wrong. The colors won’t match Leslie like they did Andrea—I specifically accessorized to bring out that gorgeous color of her hair.”

  The man next to her tsked as if it were all Andrea’s fault for having such an unfortunate time of death. I rocked back and forth on my heels, sidling closer to the group as I searched for a way to enter the conversation without seeming nosy.

  “Hi there—I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, taking the leap as I turned toward the female next to me. “But I was admiring your sunglasses. Are those the new Chanel? I didn’t think they were even on shelves yet. Where on earth did you find a pair?” When in doubt, always go for the compliment, I figured—and this time, I didn’t have to work hard to find one. Nor was I disappointed with the results.

  The woman offered a bland smile at first, then did a double take with keen interest spreading across her face. “Hey, I know you.”

  “I’ve lived here most of my life,” I offered. “My name is—”

  “Lola Pink?!” The man next to her squeaked with excitement. “Regina, that’s Lola Pink.”

  The woman named Regina nodded, her lips curving into a more real smile as she extended a hand for a shake, moving the sunglasses easily to the other hand as I met her halfway. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’m a huge fan.”

  “A huge fan?” I wrinkled my nose. “Of what?”

  “Your collection!”

  “Collection?”

  “Your vintage collection!” Regina grinned broader now, amused. “I read the article on you.”

  I flushed, having completely forgotten about any such article. Before Dotty’s death, we’d been a little short on cash, so I’d submitted photos of my vintage sunglasses collection along with a short article describing them to the local newspaper. They’d paid me a couple hundred bucks and run the article in the Sunshine Times. Dotty framed it, and it still hung on the wall in her office.

  “I’d totally forgotten about that,” I told her. “Sorry, but I’m not familiar with your name. Are you from around here?”

  “I’m from the city,” she said. “I don’t get down to the Sunshine Shore much, but with the events approaching and this tragic accident—”

  “Regina Fullerton,” the male said, leaning over her shoulder. “And I’m Marcus Hewitt. I’m Miss Fullerton’s assistant, and she is one of the hottest up and upcoming designers!”

  “Up and coming?” Regina frowned. “I’ve already arrived, and I’m already at the top, Marcus.”

  “Of course, of course,” he said quickly, the lisp more pronounced. “She’s supplying most of the designs during the fashion show.”

  “Oh, wow. A real celebrity.” I beamed at her, pushing hard for the flattery. “How did you know Andrea?”

  “She was going to be the lead model in Regina’s show,” Marcus said. “Until she wound up dead, of course. A real shame, seeing as Regina had completely refashioned some of her designs to go with that red hair. That was the entire focus of the line. A disaster now, of course.”

  “A disaster that Andrea’s dead, of course,” Regina said, looking irritated with her assistant for his lack of sympathy, and probably worse, his lack of filter. “She was the muse for most of this line, and it’s not as simple as just finding another red-haired model for the show like everyone tells me. Andrea was the line—sassy, understated, a fresh face. She’d even gotten new breasts for the occasion. It’s not an easy process to find the perfect muse, let me tell you.”

  “I’m sure,” I said dryly. “And I’m sorry Andrea’s death is such an inconvenience for you.”

  Regina’s eyes flashed to mine. “I’m sorry for your loss—did you know her well?”

  I gave a shrug, not wanting to lie. “I guess I didn’t know her as well as I thought. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the show.”

  “Of course not. Because I made her sign an NDA.”

  “NDA.” I nodded, smiling proudly. I’d signed one of my own recently, and although I still couldn’t remember exactly what the letters meant, I did understand them. “I see. That explains it. I’m sure she was looking forward to the show.” I hesitated and glanced toward the front of the church as I prepared my next question. “Do you have someone taking over for her now that she’s...gone?”

  “Yes.” Regina sighed. “Although not ideal, the show must go on. I don’t mean that harshly, I just mean...”

  “I understand,” I said. “You have to do your job despite the unfortunate circumstances.”

  She nodded, biting her lip as she turned toward the front of the church as well. “I suppose we should be going.”

  “Who did you say is taking her spot?” I asked. When Regina shot me a sharp look, I shrugged. “Just curious. Forget I asked.”

  A frown tugged her lips downward. “I suppose it’ll be public soon enough. Leslie Gray will be stepping in. She’ll do a fabulous job, I’m sure.”

  Marcus, too, looked disappointed. “But she’s no Andrea.” He gave a fake sniff and wipe of his eyes. “Andrea really embodied the whole line.”

  “We should be going. I have arrangements to make.” Regina turned to leave, and I followed along with Marcus.

  The rest of the crowd, including Dane and his entourage of employees, had begun filing to the church basement after the service ended for refreshments and small talk. However, it appeared the fashionista and her friend weren’t planning to stick around, and my curiosity got the better of me. As they pushed through the front doors, I tagged along behind them.

  As we stepped into the sunlight, I slipped on my Angelo shades. I’d ended up getting them for a steal on eBay. These babies were one of the kind, and even a funeral hadn’t stopped the sun from shining on the Shore. A woman needed to protect her eyes.

  Regina started to tell me goodbye, but the word froze on her lips as her eyes landed on my face. “Are those an original pair of Angelo sunnies?”

  I nodded, proud and—I hated to admit it—pleased that someone had recognized my sunglasses for the beauties they were. “I snagged them for twenty bucks! Someone clearly didn’t know what they were giving away.”

  Regina inhaled quickly. “You’re kidding.”

  I shook my head and rested my
fingers lovingly on the frames. “Nope. They just arrived this week.”

  “They’re perfect.” Regina’s hands crossed over her heart. “May I hold them?”

  “Try them on,” I said feeling downright giddy at being able to share the excitement with someone other than myself. Babs did appreciate a nice set of shades now and again, but she was focused on the looks. She didn’t appreciate the style—not like Regina. “Enjoy. They’re beautiful.”

  “They are.” Regina’s breath came out in a soft hiss as I handed the frames over. She placed them gently over her nose, then waved mysterious hand signals to Marcus that apparently meant for him to pull a compact out of her purse and hold it up. “Simply gorgeous. How much do you want for them?”

  My hand crept out and my smile disappeared. “They’re not for sale.”

  “I figured.” To my relief, Regina removed the sunglasses, though she held them back for a moment as she eyed me up and down, a gleam there that told me she had a plan. “How much to rent your collection?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Vintage is all the rage these days. In fact, my line with Andrea was inspired by the fifties. Hence the reason she was the perfect model: that vibrant red hair, the curvy figure. She had the look of a fifties housewife meets pin-up girl. Not like the uber slender models that are so in vogue in Paris.”

  “That’s on the way out,” Marcus said. “Vintage is on the way in.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I really like my collection. I was planning to display them at my store, Shades of Pink, once I get it up and running.”

  “I’ve seen your store,” Regina said, a calculated gaze on her face. “Or rather, the...bones of it.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Construction is a lengthy process.”

  “And costly.” She smiled, knowing she had me by a tender thread. “What if we paid you enough to create a special little case for your collection—a gorgeous display? Hell, what do I care? Take the money and your honey to Bermuda. We won’t short you on the funds. As an insurance policy on their safe return, I’ll sign a document that says I will pay double what anything is worth in the event something gets broken. You’ll be praying we break things.”