Read Tumbling Blocks for Free Online Page A

out a folded sheet of paper.
    “I have a list,” she said.
    Of course she did. I groaned out loud. “I didn’t mean I actually wanted to know—”
    She slapped the paper into my hand. “There are three names on there, the women who are next in line for 49 Club membership. One of them did it.”
    I stared at her like she was a fire-breathing dragon come to life. “The 49 Club? You think someone killed Pinky to take her place in the 49 Club?” The idea was so outlandish, I couldn’t even laugh.
    “I know it.”
    The 49 Club was San Celina’s most exclusive female-only society club. Formed seventy-five years ago, faithful to its name, it was comprised of only forty-nine members. They were the elite of the elite, and a woman could only become a member after one of the forty-nine died and then only by a unanimous vote of the other forty-eight members. They put on an invitation-only Christmas Ball and Silent Auction every year that was the most talked-about holiday event in the county. Last year it was five thousand dollars a head and limited to three hundred people. Tony Bennett, a personal friend of one of the 49ers, attended and sang a medley of Christmas carols. All the money raised was directly donated to various charities helping women and children in the county. I’d never gone to the ball, something like that being far out of my price and social range, but Elvia attended last year with Emory and said it was even more amazing than what the newspapers reported. The club met once a week for lunch in their historical landmark clubhouse in San Celina designed for them by Julia Morgan, the architect of William Randolph Hearst’s infamous castle.
    I clutched the sheet of paper in my hand, fighting the temptation to read her list. “You can’t be serious. I mean, I know the 49 Club is . . . well, many people are . . .” I almost said dying to join, then caught myself. “Many women would love to join, but I find it hard to believe that anyone would actually kill to become a member.”
    She stared at me silently for a moment, her eyes bulging with some kind of emotion. At our feet, Boo gave a little chirrup, then rolled over on his back, splaying his back legs out in a pose that would have been X-rated had he been a human.
    “Please, Benni,” she finally said. “Just consider my request. I have nowhere else to go.”
    I felt myself weakening. It was the second please that did it. Constance had never uttered the word please to me. She’d likely never said it to anyone in her life.
    “I don’t know,” I said, still attempting to maintain some boundaries with my boss. “It—”
    She stood up and closed her purse with a snap. “One day to look at what I’ve written. That’s all I ask. I’ll pay you five hundred dollars for a retainer. Right now.”
    I gave a big sigh and stood up. “I don’t want your money. I’ll see what I can find out from Gabe. That’s the best I can offer.”
    She gave a sharp nod. “Fair enough. Are we set for the exhibit opening?”
    “Yes, the wine arrived yesterday. I have it stacked in the storage room. The caterers are all set. I’ll come in early tomorrow to make sure everything is in order.”
    “What about the painting?”
    “It arrived this morning and is probably in Gabe’s office right now. I called him the minute it came. D-Daddy’s waiting for the alarm people today to double-check the system. I’ll bring it to the museum and hang it tomorrow.”
    “Good. We want this event to be special. Maybe Miss Finch will tell some of her artist connections, and the museum will receive even more donations.”
    “I’ll do my best to make sure everything’s perfect.”
    “See that you do.” She brushed past me without even a good-bye, the familiar autocratic Constance returned. Had I just imagined the sobbing and vulnerable Constance of a half hour ago?
    “Okay, my little Bugaboo,” I said, waking the puppy up. “Let’s get you fed, and then let’s go visit your