The Golden Girls meets Remington Steel in Lee Hollis's sixth mystery set in a Palm Springs retirement community, featuring retiree-turned-PI Poppy Harmon and her Desert Flowers Detective Agency!
Poppy never planned on speaking to her old acting rival Serena Saunders again, let alone accepting her as a client. But familiar drama barges back into her life when Serena requests an urgent background check on Ned Boyce, her fiancé, before tying the knot. And the flighty film star is behaving out of character by wishing to start over with Poppy—this time as friends . . .
Wealthy, connected, and the owner of a breathtaking mountaintop home, Ned seems like the most unlikely private investigation subject in Palm Springs. Poppy no sooner thinks she's nailed down her latest assignment than Serena is caught holding a smoking gun over a stranger's dead body . . .
With Serena claiming self-defense and the wedding fast approaching, the Desert Flowers team must summon their showbiz talents to expose the truth about the unknown victim. But as her former enemy finds herself in another devastating position, only Poppy can determine who's innocent and who's ready to smile for their mug shot . . .
Release date:
May 23, 2023
Publisher:
Kensington Books
Print pages:
320
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Poppy Harmon stopped suddenly in the doorway of the Desert Flowers Detective Agency garage office, her jaw dropping at the sight of Serena Saunders sitting on the couch, her shapely gams crossed, casually sipping a steaming cup of coffee.
“Hello, Poppy!” Serena cooed, waving her immaculately manicured hand adorned with firehouse-red nail polish.
Poppy glanced around the office. Her three partners in her private detective agency—Iris Becker, Violet Hogan, and Matt Cameron aka Matt Flowers—were studying her anxiously, gauging her reaction over the unexpected presence of her former acting rival from the 1980s through the early 1990s.
“I-I don’t understand,” Poppy sputtered. “I thought we were meeting with a woman named—”
“Karen Hilton,” Serena offered.
“We thought so too,” Iris snorted in her thick German accent.
“I was afraid if you knew it was me, Poppy, you might refuse to see me, so I used a fake name to set up this appointment. Karen Hilton was a character I played in a very well-received Lifetime movie I did back in 1994 where I played the guidance counselor to a disturbed high school girl who is insanely jealous of her classmate, a popular cheerleader, and plots her murder. It was the highest-rated TV movie of that year. I thought I was a shoo-in for the Best Supporting Actress Emmy, but alas it was not meant to be.”
“Okay,” Poppy muttered warily.
Serena set her coffee cup on the glass-top coffee table in front of her and then sprang to her feet. “Poppy, it’s so good to see you.” She circled around, arms outstretched, barreling toward Poppy for a hug.
Poppy thought about backing out the door and running straight for home, but her impeccable manners would not allow it, so resigned she hugged Serena, stiffly patting her on the back as Serena nearly squeezed all the air out of her.
Matt cleared his throat. “Serena wants to hire us.”
Matt was the face of the Desert Flowers Agency when they first opened their doors for business nearly five years ago. When Poppy and her two besties, Iris and Violet, decided to become private investigators, ageism, even in a retirement Mecca like Palm Springs, proved to be a major hurdle. No one seemed interested in hiring three highly capable women in their sixties. So Poppy brought in her daughter Heather’s ex-boyfriend, an aspiring actor, to play the role of agency founder Matt Flowers. The ploy worked seamlessly. Business began pouring in, and the agency was now one of the top investigative firms in the entire Coachella Valley.
Ironically, Matt’s acting career skyrocketed after one particular case involving a Hollywood film by happenstance, and recently he had been only sporadically involved with the cases since he was off shooting films and series around the world. Poppy had given him the option of withdrawing from the agency completely now that they had enough clients to keep the business afloat without his help, but Matt loved playing detective and was adamant about staying on as a part of the team whenever he was in town.
Poppy took a deep breath as she awkwardly pulled away from Serena, who still looked gorgeous. “So you want to hire us? What exactly do you want us to do?”
“I would like for you to conduct a background check,” Serena said.
“On who?” Poppy asked.
“My fiancé.”
“I didn’t know you were engaged,” Poppy said.
“Neither did I. Until a week ago, when he suddenly popped the question at Pomme Frite over an escargot appetizer. I nearly choked on my Pinot Noir.”
“Congratulations,” Violet chirped, willfully ignoring the obvious tension between the two women.
“Thank you,” Serena said. “We have not been dating that long. I honestly never dreamed I would ever get married again.”
Poppy tried to bite her tongue but to no avail. “Five times not enough?”
Serena flashed Poppy a withering smile but did not object to the dig because she knew she was at the moment in need of her professional services.
Poppy immediately regretted the petty comment, quickly adding, “Who’s the lucky fella?”
Serena spun around to address the rest of the group, averting her eyes from Iris, who grumpily glared at her. Iris was fiercely protective of Poppy and knew this woman had caused her friend a lot of emotional pain in the past. “Ned Boyce. He’s a businessman here in town.”
“What kind of business?” Matt asked.
Serena’s eyes widened as if she was taking in Matt’s muscled frame and flawless face for the first time. “Wealth management. He counsels clients on long-term investments, retirement accounts, that sort of thing. I don’t even pretend to understand any of it.” She flounced seductively across the room toward Matt, who instinctively took a step back, afraid she might grope him. “By the way, Matt, I saw you in that movie you did with the Rock recently and you were magnificent.”
“Thank you,” Matt said warily.
“I hope to see a lot more of you,” she purred, pausing before continuing with a wink to the ladies in the room, “On the big screen, of course.”
Matt cleared his throat again, now very uncomfortable.
Poppy moved to the kitchenette and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Is there a reason you feel the need for a background check? Are there some trust issues?”
Serena shook her head. “Oh no. I just want to be certain there are no skeletons hidden in his closet that I do not already know about.”
“If he is an investment manager, then I would assume he is financially secure?” Poppy asked.
“Yes, he’s certainly comfortable, but I have seen enough Netflix documentaries to know it could all be a scam. After all, given the fortunes left to me by my”—she stared pointedly at Poppy—“five husbands, not to mention my own money from my acting endeavors, I’m not sure if you’re aware that I am still working and I have amassed quite an attractive sum of money.”
Matt’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Wait! All five of your husbands died?”
Serena threw her head back and guffawed. “No! Before you get the impression that I am some sort of black widow, only one, Dieter, passed away. The rest, thanks to my crack legal team, were forced to pay up in alimony.”
“How did Dieter die?” Iris asked, eyebrow raised, suspicious.
“Skiing accident,” Serena said, brushing it off.
Poppy took a sip of her coffee and gave Serena a considered look before sighing. “Serena, I am very happy for you, but I just don’t think we’re the right fit for this assignment—”
Serena held up a hand to stop her. “Please. Poppy, I know we have a history, lots of competition and conflicts and unnecessary histrionics . . .”
Mostly on your part, Poppy thought.
“And I am undoubtedly the last person you ever wanted to see again given some of my past egregious behavior toward you . . .”
Well, at least she got that last part right.
“But I am trying to change and become a better person. I promise you that. It’s partly why I’m here today. The last five times I tried marriage, I rushed in without thinking. I didn’t pay any attention to all the red flags. I refused the advice of my friends, thought I knew best. And none of those relationships worked out in the end. I was even in the middle of divorcing Dieter when he slammed into that tree skiing in Aspen. So this time I just want to make sure I get it right.”
“I understand, Serena, and that’s commendable,” Poppy said in a quiet, measured tone. “But I really don’t—”
“I’m sorry,” Serena interjected. “I’m sorry for everything.”
She managed to quiet the room.
“I take full responsibility for our long-standing feud. I was childish, and mean-spirited, and hopelessly self-destructive, and though I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, I ask that you only allow me to help support your business. You have done an amazing thing, Poppy. You have created a whole third act for yourself. Look at you. A successful private investigator with her own firm and partners and employees. And at your age!”
Poppy flinched.
Serena caught herself. “That did not come out right. You know what I mean. Besides, I’m here to admit, here and now, something I have never been able to before—that I am actually older than you. By two years.”
“You’re right.” Poppy chuckled. “You have never admitted that before, but I knew it was true because I snuck a peek at your driver’s license back in the eighties when we did that Valley of the Dolls TV remake.”
Serena smiled. “I’m not proud of the way I behaved back then, and even up to now. It seems the older I got, the more insecure I became, which just made me even more impossible to be around. But meeting Ned, that has changed everything. No more boy toys, no more auditioning for parts I am clearly too old for. I just want to live out the rest of my days happy and content. And I feel I can have that with Ned. I just need to take this one last step to make sure I’m not making another colossal mistake.”
Poppy wavered.
She had never seen this vulnerable side of Serena before.
She was all but groveling.
Still, there was a little voice inside Poppy’s head that suggested this might all be part of a well-rehearsed act. Serena had, after all, always been a very good actress. Poppy studied her hard, trying to assess her sincerity.
“I will pay double your usual fee,” Serena offered as icing on the cake.
“Deal!” Iris blurted out.
Violet nodded her head vigorously in agreement.
Matt smirked. He knew exactly where this conversation would end.
Serena looked at Poppy expectantly, knowing she was the one in the room who had the final word.
“Our research consultant, Wyatt, is out of the office today, but he will be here this weekend, and so we can have him do a preliminary search on your fiancé, Mr. Boyce.”
“Is he working on another case today?” Serena asked.
“No, it’s his first day of high school,” Violet said brightly. “He’s my grandson.”
“Oh . . .” Serena gasped, a little taken aback.
“Don’t worry, Serena,” Poppy said with a knowing smile. “He’s very good at what he does. If there are any skeletons to discover, our boy Wyatt will find them.”
“Lovely,” Serena whispered, relieved. “I appreciate you taking this on for me, I really do, Poppy, thank you.”
Her words sounded heartfelt, but Poppy was not quite ready to let her guard down.
Not just yet.
Serena made her way over to the door, spinning around to face the group on her way out. “You have a birthday coming up, don’t you, Poppy?”
Poppy’s mouth dropped open. “Yes, on the twelfth, how did you know?”
“We’re both Virgos. I’m the nineteenth, and I remember on the set of Valley of the Dolls they brought out a cake to celebrate both our birthdays.”
“Yes, but you refused to come out of your trailer for a piece because you did not like the idea of sharing birthdays,” Poppy reminded her.
Serena grimaced, now remembering. “I must have blocked that part out. I’m sorry . . .”
“Don’t apologize. Water under the bridge,” Poppy said.
“Let me make it up to you. I will throw you a party!”
“No!” Poppy yelped. “Serena, I will accept this case, and we will find out everything we need to know about your fiancé, but only on one condition . . . that you do not plan a birthday party for me!”
“Why not?” Serena asked, disappointed.
“Because I stopped celebrating them years ago.”
Serena nodded. “Understood. Okay, then. No party. Good-bye, everyone.” She gave the ladies a friendly wave, and then her eyes lingered on Matt just long enough to make him shift awkwardly, embarrassed by the attention, before she flitted out the door.
Poppy could not believe it.
What an unexpected start to her day.
She was now working for the only person in Hollywood she ever truly despised.
Serena Saunders.
Ned Boyce’s modernist Palm Springs home was built in the late 1960s, a domed concrete structure blending the rock formations into the structure of the hillside it sat upon. At this point on the tour, Poppy had counted at least five bedrooms so far in the upwards of nine thousand square feet of space. The house also featured a spectacular circular living area centerpiece and large curved glass walls that opened onto a terrace and swimming pool, where you could take in the breathtaking views of the Coachella Valley.
When Poppy had asked to meet the subject of their investigation, businessman Ned Boyce, Serena was happy to host a luncheon at Ned’s mountaintop home, explaining that Poppy was one of Serena’s oldest and dearest friends and it would just not seem right for her to marry Ned before he had a chance to meet someone who was so important to her.
Ned, who probably wondered why Serena had never mentioned Poppy before during their ever-so-brief courtship, had readily agreed, eager to meet anyone close to the woman he loved. A date was set for the next day, and Serena insisted Poppy bring her boyfriend, Sam.
Poppy had initially hesitated about inviting Sam. Their relationship had seemed to cool lately. At least from Poppy’s perspective. She could not quite put her finger on why, or even a specific moment that ignited any tension, but she just had the sinking suspicion that Sam, for some reason, was pulling back, starting to distance himself from her. She had asked him about it a week earlier when the two of them were dining on the patio at Spencer’s, one of their favorite romantic spots, but he had brushed off her concerns, assuring her that everything was fine.
That’s what bothered Poppy. Sam was such a straight shooter. If something was bothering him, there was very little chance he would not come right out with it. He hated playing games. He detested unspoken conflict. Best to get everything out in the open. Which was why Poppy felt such cause for concern. This was so unlike him. She did not even expect him to drive down from his cabin up on Big Bear Mountain to join her, but Serena had been so adamant that this lunch come across as a double date, Poppy was left with no choice but to call him up and explain that she needed him.
Sam did not even hesitate. Of course if Poppy needed him, he would be there. She was enormously relieved. Perhaps she had whipped all of this up in her mind. Maybe she was just being paranoid. But when Sam arrived at her door to pick her up, she instantly sensed his discomfort, this frustrating gnawing distance between them. They hardly spoke the entire ride up to Ned Boyce’s home. When they were standing at the door after ringing the bell, Poppy turned to Sam, ready to confront him. But Serena swung open the door and squealed with delight at their arrival before she had the chance.
Serena ushered them inside. Both Poppy and Sam had looked around the insanely opulent property, mightily impressed, their jaws nearly dropping to the floor, as they waited for Ned.
“This place looks eerily familiar,” Sam observed.
“I’m sure it does. It was a villain’s lair in a James Bond movie back in the early seventies right after it was built.”
Sam smiled. “Yes, that’s it! Sean Connery had a fight scene out by the pool with two bikini-clad henchwomen!”
“Good memory,” Serena said.
Sam winked at her. “It was my favorite part of the movie.”
Poppy’s attention was drawn to a photographic portrait above the fireplace of a strikingly good-looking couple embracing, taken sometime in the 1950s judging by their wardrobes. His hair was greased back, and he had a pencil-thin mustache and gorgeous brown eyes that offset his intense serious expression. She was auburn-haired, fresh faced, with a playful Rita Hayworth quality about her. “Is that . . . ?”
“Alistair Boyce and Jean Harding,” Serena said, nodding. “Ned’s parents.”
Poppy’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Wait, Ned is the son of Boyce and Harding?”
“That’s right. They shot a film in Palm Springs back in the 1960s. It didn’t do very well, but they fell in love with the desert and decided to build a second home here,” Serena explained.
“So this palace was their weekend getaway spot?” Sam chuckled, shaking his head.
“I guess they could afford it at the time,” Serena said.
There was Hepburn and Tracy. Burton and Taylor. And then, maybe a few rungs down the ladder but still major Hollywood box office stars for a short period in the late 1950s, early 1960s, there was Boyce and Harding. He had been a stage star in London’s West End lured across the pond to Hollywood where he played the titular role in a film version of Henry V and was rewarded with an Oscar nomination. But it was his second film with a young up-and-coming starlet named Jean Harding, plucked from the chorus line of an MGM musical and groomed to be a star that changed his life. The two fell in love and married, and costarred in a string of romantic comedies that topped the box office, rivaling Rock Hudson and Doris Day at the time. By the early seventies, as their career momentum began to stall, Jean retired from acting to raise their only child, Ned, while Alistair signed on to do a detective series for NBC, part of the old rotating Mystery Movie wheel that featured Columbo, McCloud, and McMillan & Wife. But his effort, about a bounty hunter, failed to catch on and was quickly cancelled by 1973. After that, the couple moved full time to Palm Springs, where they lived out their final days. Alister died in 1984 of lung cancer, Jean followed less than a year later, most assuming from a broken heart.
Given the extravagant surroundings, Poppy wondered why it was not Ned who had come to the Desert Flowers Detective Agency to do a background check on Serena instead of the other way around. Serena stepped forward, almost as if reading her mind, and whispered into Poppy’s ear. “He’s not as rich as you might think. His parents didn’t have much money left when they died, only this house, which they passed on to Ned, who has had to work his fingers to the bone paying for the property taxes and constant repairs.”
“Well, he’s done a marvelous job keeping it up,” Poppy said, glancing around.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” Ned Boyce said as he descended the circular staircase leading up to a guest room that he had converted to a home office, according to Serena. “One of my clients kept me stuck on the phone.” He extended a hand to Sam. “Ned Boyce.”
“Sam Emerson, nice to meet you,” Sam said, pumping his hand before turning to Poppy. “And this is—”
“No introduction needed,” Ned said, grinning. “Big Jack Colt fan. Correction. Big Daphne fan! Such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you. Likewise.”
Poppy could feel her face flushing.
And she detected a slight grimace on Serena’s face.
“You can count me among the many Daphne admirers who never missed an episode,” Ned cooed. “I recorded every episode on my VCR, which back then, was like the size of a smart car.”
Poppy shifted uncomfortably. “It was such a long time ago.”
“Well, you look just as radiant as you did then,” Ned said, turning to Sam. “You’re a lucky man, Sam.”
Poppy had expected Sam to respond in kind but he was staring outside the large curved glass walls, not even engaged in the conversation.
Poppy cleared her throat.
Still nothing.
Sam was totally lost in thought.
Poppy finally nudged him. “Sam?”
Sam finally snapped back. “I’m sorry?”
“I was just saying how lucky you are to be dating such a TV icon like Daphne from Jack Colt,” Ned repeated.
“Her name is Poppy, not Daphne,” Serena interjected.
“Yes, dear, I know,” Ned sighed. “I’m just being silly.”
Daphne was the name of the character she had played on the 1980s detective series Jack Colt, PI starring Rod Harper, which lasted three seasons. It was the role she was most known for from her decade of acting in Hollywood.
“Welcome to my home, Poppy, Sam. I’m so glad you could co. . .
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