Trouble Play (Vista de Lirio book 3)

Paranormal women's fiction for lovers of sassy women, psychic shenanigans, and lifelong friends.

This desert oasis has gone to the dogs, and things are about to get bloody! (Not the dogs though. The dogs are fine.)

Comedian Evy Lane thought she’d done it all, but taking on the role of mistress of ceremonies for the Desert Fancy Dog Show may be her most challenging gig yet. The locals are a menagerie of high-strung prima donnas, nervous Nelsons, and she’s not talking about the dogs!

When high stakes competition leads to gruesome murder, she’s going to need every telepathic power at her disposal—and every psychic friend she knows—to make this show go on. Pesky police detectives, dangerously attractive investigators, and a menagerie of our favorite Vista de Lirio characters make this mystery the most twisted yet!

TROUBLE PLAY is the third book in the Vista de Lirio series, a new paranormal mystery series by Elizabeth Hunter, bestselling author of the Elemental Mysteries, the Glimmer Lake series, and The Irin Chronicles.

Chapter One
The camera operator drew nearer, and Evy fixed her smile as Lexi Storm, morning news anchor and fixture of Palm Springs society, opened the live segment.
“It’s that time of the year again, dog lovers. The Desert Fancy Kennel Club Dog Show is almost here, and I’m with this year’s hosts, local entertainer EV Lane and—all the way from the London, England—Chip Dunklin!” Lexi turned away from the camera and pointed her perfectly white smile at Evy and Chip. “Thanks for being with me this morning, you guys. Evy, great to see you again. Are you excited about this?
I’m so excited about this!” “Happy to be here.” Evy turned on her television persona. “I am so excited. I’m feeling a little sorry for Chip though.” Evy pointed at her cohost. “He’s the knowledgeable, serious person who’s going to have to correct my mistakes all week. I’m just that lady who loves dogs.”
It wasn’t the first time Evy had appeared on Desert Daily, but it was the first time when she’d been highly medicated. The world around her felt a little muffled, but it was better than the telepathic onslaught she’d been fearing.
Chip chuckled jovially—playing the part of the kindly, seasoned professional—and responded to Evy in a soothing British accent. “I’m sure Evy will be an amazing cohost. I can already tell she’s a dog lover, and what’s not to love?” He spread his hands and looked around. “In just a few days, the convention center will be full of intense competition, the thrill of victory, and I’m sorry to say, probably a few disappointed howls.”
Evy turned to Lexi. “Chip’s talking about the owners and handlers of course. The dogs are much better sports.”
Both Chip and Lexi laughed, and Evy was grateful she only heard their audible voices and not the rush of garbled dialogue that made up the mental background noise of most people’s minds.
For months she’d been learning to live with a form of telepathy that forced other people’s thoughts into her head. It was confusing, exhausting, and the only way she’d managed to control it a little bit was with heavy antianxiety medication.
Evy wasn’t an insecure person—you couldn’t survive in the comedy world if you were insecure—but lately she felt like she’d been battling for her sanity.
“I do think that dog shows attract very strong personalities though, don’t they?” Lexi directed her attention at Chip. “And this year the kennel club has made this an open. Chip, as the experienced dog-show professional in the group, what does that mean?”
“That’s a great question.” Chip turned his beaming smile to the camera. “The president of the Desert Fancy Kennel Club, the visionary Bunny Butterfield Barker, has decided that this year the annual competition should not only celebrate dogs from local and national shows but a select group of international competitors as well.”
“Wow!” Lexi said. “How did they qualify?”
Chip continued. “These are all champions in their own respective countries who have been invited by the club to take part in this show.”
“That’s amazing!” The television host was grinning. “So this is not just a national show anymore but an international one?”
“That’s right.” Evy popped in. “There are dogs and handlers coming from purebred-dog clubs in Asia, the Middle East, and South America this year. It’s really exciting.”
“Chip, you’ve been working in the dog-show world your whole career, isn’t that right? Is this a common thing? To have an international show like this?”
“It’s a bit unusual in the US, Lexi. Definitely a way to put the Desert Fancy Kennel Club show on the map for international breeders.”
Evy might have felt out of her depth in the technical aspects of Dog Show World, but at least she looked good. Her two best friends had helped her pick out her slim black suit. With her chin-length hair recently trimmed and new blunt-cut bangs that emphasized her large eyes, Evy knew she looked striking, which was what she needed with a cohost who looked like he’d been born to wear a tuxedo.
Lexi was still focused on Chip. “And you’ve been working with dogs your whole life, is that right?”
Chip’s warm brown eyes were fixed on Lexi. “My father was a Norwich terrier breeder, and I grew up handling the dogs for local shows. That grew into around ten years of professional handling in the dog-show world. In all those years, I’ve never seen a competition like this. It’s very exciting.”
“You’ve worked with some of the owners and breeders who are participating this week, isn’t that correct?” Lexi’s eyebrows rose. “Now is that a conflict of interest?”
Chip smiled, and Evy couldn’t help but think that Chip and Lexi looked like a matched pair, Lexi with her carefully coiffed hair and Chip with his neat jacket and perfect accent.
If she left, would they notice?
“Luckily, I’m not judging this competition,” Chip said. “And I have my wonderful cohost to keep me in check.” Chip turned to Evy, and his eyes lit up. “I’ve only just met Miss Lane, but I’m confident this is going to be one of my favorite commenting jobs. It’s wonderful to have a cohost who knows so much local color.”
Evy nudged his shoulder with her own. “That’s polite Britishspeak for I know all the local gossip.” Evy turned to the camera and winked. “Better watch the dog show, Desert Daily viewers. You never know what secrets might slip out.”
“Now that’s a promise!” Lexi laughed. “Evy, I can’t wait to listen to you and Chip for the broadcast. When is everything starting?”
Chip answered again. “This is a benched show, so the owners will show up starting on Monday of next week to get their stations set up, the pens situated, and allow the animals to acclimate before the breed judging starts on Tuesday.”
Evy added, “We’ll have an opening ceremony on Wednesday; then group judging will start on Thursday. Chip and I will be there to be your guides for everything.”
“And it will run through the weekend?”
“The Best in Show judging will be on Sunday afternoon,” Evy said. “But there are hundreds of wonderful dogs that visitors will be able to visit and observe in the convention hall starting on Tuesday, along with visiting the vendor market, of course.”
“Shopping.” Lexi’s eyes lit up. “I understand there will be over one hundred vendors at the show this year?”
Push the vendor market. That’s what Lorain, the show chairwoman, had emphasized. “That’s correct,” Evy said. “Palm Springs is a shopping town, and this show will have something for everyone. There are vendors catering to two-footers and four-footers at the market.”
Lexi kept her brilliant smile fixed on Evy, who grinned back like she’d been caught on hostage video. It felt unnatural and uncontrollable.
“And what about the kids?” Lexi asked. “I’m assuming this is family friendly?”
Evy kept going. “Watching dogs on TV is always fun, but the show organizers have gone out of their way to make this a real family event. There are crafts, activities, games, and a petting area, so please come down and bring the kids. They’re going to have a blast.”
Chip added, “That’s one of the best things about dog shows, Lexi. They really are wonderful entertainment for the entire family.”
“Chip, Evy. Thank you so much for joining me today, and I cannot wait for next week.” Lexi turned to the camera. “After the break we have the current Best in Show title holder coming to visit us! That’s right—Baron, the legendary standard poodle, and the woman herself, Bunny Butterfield Barker, are up next along with one of the international guests this year, Juliet Lomax of London and her adorable miniature schnauzer Jade.”
There was a pause, and then a camera operator shouted, “And we’re off. One minute thirty, Lex.”
Evy felt her gut unclench, and with that moment of relaxation, a flood of background voices managed to slip in.
—ready for the nine o’clock—
—think I’ll get a wrap for—
—noticed me? She hadn’t even looked—
Nope. The jumbled voices weren’t welcome. Evy closed her eyes and clamped down on the mental shields she’d been practicing for months.
“Thanks, guys! You were great.” Lexi jumped off her tall chair and hustled to the wings where a young woman was holding a bottle of water and a mirror. “Evy, I expect you to drop some shockers.”
Evy laughed, but it sounded brittle to her own ears. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s not the EV Lane I know!”
“What can I say, Lex? They’re keeping me on a short leash for this one.”
Chip was already off to the side, chatting with an older woman in full show regalia who had a black standard poodle sitting near her feet. Near them stood an elegant woman in a brilliant orange wrap dress who carried a tiny brown dog with curled whiskers in her arms.
Evy guessed that Bunny Barker was the tiny White woman with a silver bob wearing a designer suit. The woman next to her was much taller, Black, and carried herself with a regal air. She had to be the international competitor, Juliet Lomax from the UK.
Evy wandered over and held her hand out to the black poodle. “Hey there.”
The poodle ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Bunny and Chip, but the small brown dog shook in her owner’s arms and barked with righteous ire.
“Jade, no.” The tall woman tapped the dog’s nose and gave Evy a cutting look. “Please don’t stress the animals.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Bunny cut her eyes away toward Chip. “Charles, nice to see you. We need to get the dogs on the stage, but I’ll talk to you later.”
Bunny led the other woman and the two dogs onto the stage where they took their place on a low couch an assistant pointed out to them. The black dog named Baron immediately sat at attention on Bunny’s left side while the little brown dog turned in circles, inspecting the area before she settled down.
The broadcast had come back, and a chirpy meteorologist with abundant curls was sharing the weather forecast.
“I used to work for her.”
The weather lady? Evy turned to Chip. “Who?”
Chip nodded at the stage.
Evy’s eyebrows went up. “The Lomax lady from London?”
“No—Bunny.” He smiled. “I worked for Bunny.”
“She’s not very happy Lorain hired me, you know.”
“I’d heard there was some tension.” Chip smirked a little. “Bunny has very fixed opinions, but she’s not bad at heart.” He nodded at Baron. “I was Bunny and her ex-husband Stewart’s handler in the show ring for years. I probably know her dogs better than she does.”
Evy didn’t know what to say to that. “Well… That one doesn’t look neglected.”
“Oh no, Baron is the pampered prince. Did you see his collar?”
“I didn’t notice.” Evy looked back at the dogs. “Very sparkly.”
Chip leaned closer as the forecast ended and the camera turned back to Lexi, Bunny, the British woman, and the two champion dogs sitting at their feet.
“Those aren’t rhinestones,” he said. “They’re not even crystals.”
Evy’s eyes went wide. “You can’t mean—”
“Twin custom-made Cartier chokers,” Chip said. “Platinum with diamonds for her dog Zara and platinum with diamonds and onyx for Baron. I heard someone say her ex-husband spent something like a million dollars for the pair.”
Holy shit, that was insane. “Who spends that much money for dog collars?”
“Bunny.” Chip looked amused. “They had a custody fight, you know.”
“Wouldn’t their kids be too old for that?”
“No kids. The custody fight was about the dogs.”
Evy’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”
“They had a huge kennel, but Bunny’s ex ended up with most of the younger dogs, and Bunny got the prize. They both agreed that Baron and Zara shouldn’t be separated, so she got them both.”
And their collars. Evy shook her head. “Lexi was right. These dog shows attract some very strong personalities.”
Chip’s eyes hadn’t left the two dogs on the stage. “You have no idea.”

_____________________________________________________________

Evy got home and carefully hung her black suit in the closet. She only had three designer outfits that fit in with the Palm Springs society crowd, and those pieces had been carefully chosen.
“Aunt Marie?” She slipped into a pair of linen joggers and a cropped tank top. She might have hated having a flat chest when she was younger, but the older she got, the more she loved her lack of boobs. “Marie?”
Evy lived with her aunt, which suited both of them most of the time. They were independent, busy with their own work, and didn’t step on each other’s toes too often.
She wandered out to the kitchen in Marie’s midcentury home and poured herself a glass of iced tea, then rinsed her breakfast dishes from the morning and set them in the strainer to dry. They didn’t have a dishwasher, and with just the two of them, it didn’t seem that important.
The house was her aunt’s and hadn’t been updated much since the 1970s. There was still shag carpet and dark wood paneling. The roof needed to be replaced, and the whole place needed an exterior coat of paint.
She didn’t pay rent, but the house wasn’t hers either. Updates or big projects were always a stress for Evy. How much did she contribute? Was the house going to be hers someday, or would Aunt Marie leave it to another relative? If it wasn’t going to be hers, should she really be the one to pay for a new roof?
Evy was forty-four, still lived with her aunt, and didn’t own her own home. With real estate the way it was in Palm Springs, she’d probably never be able to afford one.
Her best friends were a real estate mini-mogul, a dentist, and trust fund babies with real estate, vacation homes, and fancy cars. She hung out with rich people without ever having any hope of paying back their generosity.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t pay the bills. Her pool-cleaning company was humming along at a good pace and made her excellent money, and though her hosting and comedy work had taken a hit when she’d been “blessed” with telepathy, that was picking up again too.
If she could use Geoff…
She glanced at her ventriloquist dummy in the corner of the room. She’d picked up Geoff years ago from a secondhand shop and developed a whole comedy routine where Geoff was a rude old man and she was the zany sidekick who tried to keep him in line. It worked because ventriloquism was a dying art and also because she was a damn good joke writer and performer.
But the revelation two years before that her dummy was literally haunted by the ghost of its former owner had put a damper on her routine. Agents still called to book her and Geoff, but Evy didn’t have the heart.
She felt bad about putting Geoff in his box, but she also didn’t want to talk to him. He stayed in a corner of the living room, and the only one who acknowledged his existence was Aunt Marie, who was far from fazed by any of her niece’s supernatural quirks.
Evy heard keys rattle in the front door, then the familiar sound of her aunt’s voice.
“Evelyn?”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
The door closed, and Aunt Marie’s keys jingled in the tray by the front door. She’d been at the hairdresser that morning.
“Hey, kid.” Marie walked through the door and smiled when she saw Evy. “How was the TV thing?”
“Good. How was the hairdresser?”
Evy could already see that Aunt Marie had taken a new color challenge.
“Purple.” Marie held out a long curl. “What do you think?”
“Looks good with your silver.”
“That’s what I thought.” The old woman reached for a mug and swirled the dregs of coffee that were left in the glass carafe. “I’m making a new pot. You want some?”
“Too hot.”
“It’ll cool you off.” Marie started making a piping-hot pot of coffee.
Marie was a firm believer that drinking hot things in hot weather would lower your body temperature. Evy wasn’t sure if it was true, but she wasn’t going to argue with her aunt.
“I’m good with the iced tea. Thanks.”
“You’ll see when you get older.”
Statements like that made Evy feel her age. She was “older,” so why did she feel like she was still learning how to adult at her age?
“The British guy seems nice,” Evy said. “He used to work for Bunny Barker.”
“I’d send my apologies, but it sounds like he escaped.”
Evy smiled. “What’s so wrong with Bunny?”
“Other than having a stick the size of a saguaro cactus wedged up her backside?” Marie flipped on the coffee maker and turned. Her expression was all amusement. “Nothing.”
“Now that’s a mental picture.” Evy shook her head. “She certainly comes across as a prima donna every time she emails me.”
“Is she the one who hired you? Shouldn’t she be grateful you agreed to host this craziness?”
“She didn’t hire me,” Evy said. “She’s president of the kennel club, but the board is in charge of putting a chairperson in place to head up the dog show, and apparently the lady who’s in charge this year, Lorain Matthews, is Bunny’s mortal enemy or something.”
“And the mortal enemy is the one who hired you?”
Evy nodded. “Yeah, but Bunny keeps emailing with directions that contradict Lorain’s, so you can see how fun that is for me.”
“Sounds delicious.” Marie’s eyes were dancing. “Backstage drama is the best drama. Plus that will be a great place for you to practice.”
“Marie, I really don’t think it’s a good—”
“The medication is an emergency measure, Evelyn.” Marie walked over and put her hand on Evy’s cheek. “You can’t keep taking it forever; it dampens your abilities. The medications hide your gift.”
And I’m fine with that.
She didn’t say it; Marie would be horrified. Her aunt had always carried a touch of the second sight, and she wished she had more. For her, psychic powers were a gift. They were something to be cultivated and used to protect and guide the people she cared about.
But for Evy?
If she could snap her fingers and never hear another internal voice, she would. For her, telepathy was anything but a gift.
It was a curse, and one that medication had finally allowed her to conquer, at least most of the time. She could be in a crowded restaurant again. She could perform. She could even go on a date without hearing her partner’s every thought.
If Marie thought she was giving up that freedom willingly, she was off her rocker.