My Spy 3: Murder Mayhem

Brunch

Smile and nod Sawyer. Do not let them see that you have not paid attention to a word they've said since you were handed your first mimosa forty-five minutes ago. Your mother will beat you with a belt if she finds out you zoned out at your first official meeting at the Historical Society's monthly brunch.

Oh no, Poppy Penderghast is now looking directly at me and I have no idea what she just asked me. Her blue questioning eyes stare at me while her lipgloss-covered mouth remains slightly open. Maybe she just asked me if I spotted the cocktail waitress with our refills, I can answer that question.

"She's coming this way," I answer loudly so the entire table of ten can hear me, but when I watch confusion take over Poppy's pretty face, I realize that is not in fact what she asked me.

"Who is?" She asks as the rest of the table now looks to me in confusion. The waitress appears next to me and hands me another fizzy orange mimosa. I smile to her and then bring my focus back to Poppy.

"Oh, I was just saying the waitress was coming and I didn't want you to be interrupted by her." Poppy still has a furrowed brow but she thankfully asks her first question again, "Would you like to help me organize the reopening of the Wellington House? Help plan the party?" Relief washes over me. I was afraid taking up Poppy's offer to serve on the Historical Society would be dreadfully boring but I am more than capable of throwing a party. Although, the only parties I have ever thrown have been secret ones in the woods in high school where instead of playing seven minutes in heaven, we'd play three minutes behind a tree and go skinny dipping in the algae pond. I'm thinking I won't have to sneak alcohol into this party.

"I'd be delighted. Give me the details of what I'll be working with and I'll plan away!" I say cheerily, almost disgusted with myself that I used the word delighted to describe throwing a stuffy party for the high society members. Even if it was at the last party of theirs that I attended, that I was reunited with my hunk of an F.B.I agent boyfriend, Ryan Hart. It wasn't all bad and this party will for sure come with better red wine options.

"Fantastic, maybe I can sit down with you after work one night at the winery and go over the budget," Poppy smiles to me and I nod in return. The older gentleman, who was probably in the same graduating class as my father, seated at the far end of the table glances to Poppy and says, "You'll need to record everything you two discuss if you meet outside a committee meeting. Especially when it concerns our budget." He says it with a snap and his thin lips form a tight line as he glances between Poppy and me.

Poppy smirks in return, probably accustomed to this stickler for the rules and says, "Of course Mr. Huxley. As our treasurer, I will make sure Sawyer's spending is always approved by you. She won't be able to spend anything without your permission first." This seems to satisfy him and he slinks back into his seat silently. I don't think he's thrilled with the idea that a new comer is going to be in charge of spending the fundraiser money. I pull my mimosa up to my lips, hopeful that nothing else will be passed my way and I sneak a glance to the dainty silver watch that adorns my wrist. Only ten more minutes before I can make a graceful exit. The fancy, lace-trimmed invitation that laid out the brunch's itinerary and timetable says this meeting will end at eleven. And I have a perfectly reasonable excuse for dashing at eleven on the dot.

I am about to take one more bite of my savory Eggs Benedict when I see LulaBelle Anders darting toward our table. Her neat ponytail has a layer of flyways covering it and her big brown eyes are watery from rushing around. She's out of breath when she reaches the end of our table and everyone's eyes watch her as she drops down into the vacant seat by Mr. Huxley.

"I apologize for my tardiness! Unbeknownst to me, Mayor Anders had given our driver the weekend off so I had to wait for Garrett to finish his golf game before he could drive me here. I no longer am able to drive in my condition you see," she says as she attempts to catch her breath. She rubs her hands over her stomach and if I hadn't known she was pregnant, I would assume her small bump was due to gas and not because she was creating life.

"It's alright LulaBelle. I do feel bad though, I think our meeting is coming to a close," Poppy says with a frown. "To sum everything up for you, we raised enough money at our fundraiser to begin the restorations on the Wellington House. The marble flooring and landscaping will be our first priority followed by the banisters and the woodwork. We want to decide on a piece for the memorial in the backyard and we are hoping Mrs. Hemming and the Samuels will help create a garden to surround the piece. Hopefully these restorations won't take but a few weeks and Sawyer here is going to plan the reopening party," Poppy finishes with a smile and a glance in my direction. I watch LulaBelle slowly turn both her head and bulging eyes to me. I raise my champagne flute towards her and with a plastered smile she says, "I didn't know you were serious about joining the committee Sawyer."

I nod, "Well now that I am back in Hollis full time, I figured I should make myself more available for social events. I'm just lucky that Poppy here saw my potential as a party planner and allowed me a spot on the committee."

LulaBelle, still with a manic expression, smiles and replies, "Well aren't we just so thankful then that Jackson broke off your engagement so Hollis could have you back with us full time." If I didn't fully know Poppy and Jackson were currently getting down and dirty, I would have made a nasty remark back. However, seeing that the Penderghasts currently employ me at their winery, I figure I shouldn't say something nasty about her boy toy.

"Well, what can I say? Hollis adores me," I say with a shrug. "And so does Mrs. Blackwood. Thanks for reminding me LulaBelle, but I needed to follow up with her about planning and hosting next year's Founders Day! I already put a bug in her ear about it at the fundraiser." Her fake smile turns into a scowl at my threat and I really hope I don't have to push her to the point of me actually planning Founder's Day. That would be the worst possible scenario but I'll do anything to ruffle LulaButt's feathers.

Poppy sees the wickedness and decides to stop it before either of us look unladylike.

"Anyway, if there aren't any further questions, Mr. Huxley and I will see that the tab is paid and we can all be on our merry way." She gives us a nod and everyone is in agreement. LulaBelle deflates as everyone stands from the table and I'm glad she missed the meeting.

After draining what was left in my glass, I stand from the table and smile to Poppy before dashing out of the restaurant. At eleven on the dot, I watch as a black pick-up truck pulls into the parking lot. It slowly makes its way toward the front steps as I flounce down them. The passenger window rolls down as I approach the door and I hear Ryan's voice say, "Hey pretty lady, need a ride?"