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"Not that long. Other than choosing a casket or an urn and deciding on cremation or not, you really can't do much until after the coroner releases the body. In the case of a homicide, that could take several days. Only after the body is released can you establish a time for the services, arrange for flowers, get the announcements into the paper, and all of that."

"I've never even been to a funeral," April said. "Where do people hold them? At a church somewhere? Here at the house?"

"Not at the house," Ali said quickly. "And Paul wasn't someone I'd call a churchgoing kind of guy. So maybe the funeral home would be best for the service itself with a catered reception here at the house afterward."

"Do you send out invitations or something?" April asked.

She really is young, Ali thought.

"No, someone writes an obituary with an announcement at the end telling the time and place of the services and whether or not they're open to the public. That goes into the Times. Then whoever wants to come shows up."

April nodded. "You said funeral home. Which one?"

Ali remembered the form she had signed, the one the clerk in the coroner's office had handed her.

"When I went to Indio to do the identification, I signed a form in the Riverside County Coroner's Office. Once they're done with the body, it authorizes them to release it to the Three Palms Mortuary here in Beverly Hills," Ali answered. "I chose them because, years ago, they handled the services for Paul's mother. They did a good job. The facility is lovely, the chapel is spacious, and I remember the people were nice to deal with. And the funeral chapel is relatively closeonly a mile or so away, on Sunset. But if you'd rather use someone else amp;"

"No," April said. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Wait a minute, April," Monique interjected. "This is ridiculous. You can't just let her walk in and take over everything. For God's sake, stand up for yourself, April. Take charge!"

"I am standing up for myself," April returned. "I'm going to do this my way, and Ali is going to help." She looked around at the faces of the legal eagles gathered there. "Is there anything else?"

Les Jordan shook his head. "Not that I know of," he said. "Not at this time."

"Good. I'm going back upstairs," April said. "And now I really am going to get dressed. I want to go out and check on the sudoku shoot."

The arms on the game chair were low. With April's bulging belly throwing her center of gravity off-kilter, it was a struggle for her to rise to her feet. Victor stood and gave her a hand up. Ali expected Monique to get up and follow her daughter out of the room, but she didn't. She stayed right where she was.

"April is my daughter," she said. "I'm not going to stand by and let you walk all over her and control the purse strings."

"No one is walking all over her," Les Jordan pointed out. "We're simply apprising her of the legal ramifications of her situation."

But Ali understood at once that Monique wasn't addressing the attorneys. She was talking to Ali directly, telling her to back off.

"Are we done here?" Victor asked.

"As far as I know," Les said.

"Good. We'll be going then. Come on, Ali. Helga."

Ali rose to her feet, aware of Monique's glare fastened on her. She walked past Monique toward the doorway, then turned and came back. "Your daughter's going through a terrible time right now," Ali said. "I have no intention of walking all over her. I'm trying to help."

"She doesn't need your help," Monique insisted. "Why would she? She has me."

Exactly, Ali thought as she followed Victor and Helga out the door. Poor baby. Why would April need anyone else?

CHAPTER 7

When Victor, Ali, and Helga emerged from the house, they discovered that Victor's Lincoln was blocked by a second huge RV, this one with the logo SUMO SUDOKU DRAGONSLAYER TEAM. In the process of shoe horning the second RV into the circular drive, the driver had taken out one of the gateposts and one side of the RV as well. Jesus, the gardener, and the guy who was apparently the driver were involved in a heated conversation about the incident with the entire discussion taking place in high-volume Spanish.

As the newly reinstalled mistress of Robert Lane, Ali supposed she should take a hand in the discussion, but since Jesus appeared to have the situation under control, she didn't. Ali had concerns that were far more compelling than fixing a broken gate.

She and Helga got into the Lincoln, and Victor waited outside until the damaged RV had been moved out of the way. Off to one side of the house, in the yard outside the pool house, Ali caught a glimpse of people looking on as a film crew followed the action of a bare-chested man who bent over, reached down, picked up one of the sudoku rocks, and then lugged it off. So the Sumo Sudoku contest was under way.

"Have you ever heard of a postmortem divorce?" Ali asked.

"It'll never happen," Helga replied. "For one thing, we'd be stupid to sign off on it. Just losing the marital deduction would cost a fortune in estate taxes. Besides, April's smarter than thatsmarter than I gave her credit for, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she looked around that room full of lawyers, figured out you were the softest touch in the place, and snuggled right up to you, driving her mother crazy in the process."

"Aren't you being a little cynical?" Ali asked. "April's in a tough position. I happen to know from firsthand experience what she's going through about now."

"Don't fall for it," Helga insisted. "She's just buttering you up because she figures you're the one who'll be doling out the money for her baby."

"What's wrong with that?" Ali asked. "Wasn't Ted Grantham trying to do the same thingbuttering me upin order to be sure that his bill gets paid?"

"That's different," Helga returned. "April has a way better hand than Ted Grantham does. He isn't eight and a half months pregnant, and she is. Believe me, April is going to use that as a club. She'll play on your sympathy for all she's worth. She's got you pegged as being too nice to throw her out in the cold. Besides, she won the first round fair and square."

"What first round?" Ali asked.

"When you said you'd let her stay on in the house until after the baby is born. When it comes time for her to actually leave, I predict you'll have to evict her. And I agree with Ted, by the way. While settling the estate is in limbo, you need to request an inventory and appraisal of everything in the house. I've known plenty of women like April Gaddis in my time. She'll figure out what's worth stealing and what isn't and she'll make off with anything that isn't nailed down. And requiring a paternity test wouldn't be out of line, either."

It was ironic for Ali to find herself in the position of having to defend her dead husband's pregnant girlfriend to Helga Myerhoff, Ali's own divorce attorney. She was relieved and glad to change the subject when Victor opened the door and clambered into his seat.

He looked over at Ali and shook his head in seeming disgust. "What part of whatever you say may be held against you' don't you understand?"

"Excuse me?" Ali asked.

"Your blog," Victor said. "My assistant just called. She's been reading your blog on the Webreading all about it, as they say. You have to understand it's not just what you say to the cops that can be held against you, Ali. It's what you say anywhere to anyone. Fang? You really called Paul Grayson Fang?"

"He's been Fang in my blog for a long time," Ali protested. "Since long before somebody killed him."

"Believe me, Detectives Sims and Taylor are going to love that. For right now, you're to say nothing more in your blog about this case, understood? For as long as this is an active investigation, commentary from you is off the table."