Dying for a Double by Cindy Sample

Author:Cindy Sample
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cozy mystery series, humorous mystery, private investigators, female sleuths, amateur sleuth, small town mystery, Hollywood mystery, romantic comedy
Publisher: Cindy Sample
Published: 2019-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“That was helpful,” Stan said as he pulled out of the spa parking lot.

I stared out the window at a row of identical palm trees lining the street. “I guess. We didn’t discover anything new other than Whitney confirming Brittany probably didn’t go off on her own.”

“We learned more about her family situation.”

True. Whitney had shared Brittany’s father’s name with us which was different from the stage name Brit assumed when she began her acting career. Whitney didn’t have contact information for him, although she remembered what street they’d lived on during Brit’s high school tenure. I should be able to track him down using social media or our agency resources.

The comparisons between Brittany and me continued to pile up. Not just our similar features and physique. We’d both lost a parent at an early age. My mother had remained single for thirty years after my father died when I was ten. Eventually a homely but very kind detective fell for her when he was investigating someone for murder.

That someone was me, so my relationship with my new stepfather was also rocky at first. Until he risked his own life to save mine. Bradford would forever be my hero.

It was too bad Brittany had suffered so much upheaval in her own life.

The Lamborghini zipped up the entrance ramp to Highway 405 then shuddered to a complete stop. All I could see for miles ahead and behind us were rows of cars.

“Ugh. I don’t understand how anyone can live here,” I complained.

“Sun, surf and studios,” Stan replied. “California Dreamin’.”

“I’m already homesick.” I looked at my watch. “With this traffic, we won’t have time to return to Ryan’s house so I can change into something nicer for our dinner with Brittany’s manager.”

“How about doing a little shopping?”

“Sure. I never have time to shop when I’m home. That’s one way to kill time.”

***

Stan’s idea of shopping was designed to not only kill time but also murder my wardrobe budget for the next decade. For some reason I assumed he would head for one of the Los Angeles malls filled with the chain stores I shopped at in Sacramento. Instead, we ended up back in Beverly Hills on Rodeo Drive. Surrounded by extremely thin and sun-tanned women wearing designer clothes, shoes, purses, and sunglasses.

After visits to Prada and Chanel where I left with my hands empty but my wallet full, I asked, “Are you trying to bankrupt me?”

“Of course not. It wouldn’t hurt to add a little glam to your closet.”

I stopped in place, my hands on my hips.

“Don’t you want a souvenir from this trip?” he asked.

“I couldn’t even afford a thong from either of those stores. The only souvenir I want is a nice fat check from our client for a job well done.”

“Okay, then, how about we stop at one of the men’s stores. Please,” he begged. “I’d love to check out Battistoni.”

My stomach growled. “Is that some type of pasta? I am getting a little hungry.”

“Not quite. It’s a men’s store.

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