Read Online Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang by Chelsea Handler - Free Book Online Page A

just in case Ted starts calling the whole town."
    "Exactly," I replied while looking over at Brad, whose face had turned two shades darker than a lobster.
    "After that little desk performance, you are definitely not going to the pier," Tom told him.
    "Pleeeeeease?"
    I walked over to Eva's desk to give her instructions on the next phase of Operation Dudley Is Dead.
    The next e-mail was sent by Eva a few minutes later:
Hey guys. Did any of you see Dudley ingest or eat anything last night that maybe he shouldn't have? The animal doctor that is doing the autopsy asked John's assistant to find out. It's a little awkward so she asked me if I could help.
    Before I even finished reading the e-mail, my phone rang. "Did you get the e-mail?" Ted asked me.
    "Yes. They know it's me."
    "No, they do not!"
    "They're gonna find out when they do the autopsy. They're gonna find the crab right next to that black napkin in Dudley's belly."
    "Yes, but they aren't going to know who did it."
    "I have to come forward."
    "No, Chelsea! We don't even know if the dog is allergic to shellfish. It could have been something else."
    " Was allergic to shellfish. Dudley is dead, Ted."
    "We don't know that it was the shellfish. It could've been anything. Just wait until we get the autopsy results."
    I took a deep, loud, dramatic breath.
    "Chelsea," he said in the voice that a grief counselor would use with a patient attempting to do bodily harm to herself. "I have to go into a meeting now. Please don't talk to or call anyone who was at the party. Did you tell Tom?"
    "Yes."
    "Anyone else?"
    "Brad."
    "Why did you tell Brad?"
    "Because he saw me crying."
    "Oh, honey. You poor thing. Sweetie, you have to remember, this was an accident. The dog could have had another heart attack. We don't know it was the crab. It might just have been his time."
    "I'm fine. I have to go, Ted. This is all too much."
    A little later Eva walked into my office to tell me that Ted had called her and made it very clear to her that she saw nothing unusual at last night's party. "He also said that you were in a very fragile state and that I should keep an eye on you." Eva told me all this with a straight face and then turned on her heel and laughed all the way back to her desk. I was impressed with this side of her and her skill set in dealing with an unexpected dog homicide.
    Luckily for me it was Friday. The spreading of the ashes would be Saturday, so I would have to go through with this charade for only one night and a morning.
    Needless to say I had a terrific day planning the next day's events. I hadn't been this charged up since the presidential inauguration. On my way home from the show that evening, my attorney Jake called.
    "Chelsea. I was on the phone with Ted trying for forty minutes to figure out who fed the dog what. He was trying to protect you and convince me you had nothing to do with it. This is so fucking stupid. I kept having to put the phone on mute. Are you really going to take the CEO of a cable company to a dog funeral?"
    "Yes, it's at the pier. Would you like to come?"
    "Yes, but I have my kid's soccer game tomorrow. Can't we do it Sunday? How can he believe this?"
    "Johnny is filming it, and he has a christening on Sunday. Your loss."
    "Shit. I really want to see this."
    "Well, unless Ted hits me, I'll probably show it on Leno Tuesday night."
    "You should tell Ted that John's hiring a pet detective to put on the case."
    "I don't have time for shenanigans," I told Jake, and hung up.
    When I got home, I jumped on the treadmill. As soon as Ted walked in, I texted Eva to send the follow-up e-mail we had coordinated earlier:
Hi guys. John's assistant just told me confidentially that the autopsy revealed that Dudley was allergic to shellfish and that seems to be the culprit. Chelsea, if I recall correctly that is not what you gave him. I'm pretty sure it was one of those raviolis. Poor guy!
    I liked Eva. I liked her a lot.
    Our treadmill is on our balcony, and Ted was