Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 104
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
I balled my hands into fists, but before I could think of something to say in response, Brett took my elbow and spun me around.
“I thought we were taking a walk,” he said, propelling me forward and away from Jeremy.
Kristina linked her arm through Richard’s and dragged him with her as he hurled an insult about Jeremy’s knockoff Prada flip-flops over his shoulder.
We walked down the hard-packed sand until we’d reached the edge of the water. I looked out into the ocean and saw the waves breaking further out, making the water close to the shore flat and placid. The sea extended out in bands of blue, from a pale turquoise at the sand to teal as the water deepened to indigo where the waves crested. I relaxed my hands and tried to put Jeremy and his threats out of my mind as I took in a breath free of spicy perfume.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said to Kristina and Brett.
“I’m just sorry I didn’t get to tell him what I thought about his bargain basement spray-on tan,” Richard said, clearly still fuming.
“Don’t give it a second thought,” Kristina said, patting Richard on the shoulder. “Jeremy makes enemies everywhere he goes.”
“How do you know everyone?” I asked.
Brett winked at me. “I’m not as young as I look. Plus, almost all the people on this trip are Inspire people. Different cliques but I still know who they are.”
Since I was on the end closest to the ocean, I let the water wash up around my feet, feeling pleasantly surprised by the warmth of the water. “And Chatty Cathy is from Inspire?”
Kristina nodded. “She tried to hang with Dina and Veronica more than with us though.”
“Which was fine by me,” Brett added.
“So whom did Sasha pal around with at Inspire?” Richard asked. “Aside from the guy she had an affair with?”
We crossed from our resort’s beach area into what appeared to be a public beach with an open-air restaurant and plastic lounge chairs grouped closely together in tight rows. A thatched hut with a pair of high massage tables sat over to one side, and two bored masseuses sat underneath talking to each other.
Kristina thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I don’t know if she did hang around with a group. And after the affair ended, she never returned to Inspire.”
“That’s sad,” I said.
“She was cheating on her husband for years,” Richard reminded me. “Plus, she’s the reason Jeremy is here.”
I gave myself a mental slap. “Right. Forget I said that.” I stepped around a stretch of crushed shells in the sand. “Do you think Sasha could have killed Veronica to get revenge after all these years?”
Brett and Kristina exchanged a glance, and Brett shrugged. “I don’t know her well enough to say, but she doesn’t seem like the most easygoing person.”
“But why wait all this time to take her revenge?” Kristina asked. “And it’s not like Veronica stayed with the guy. He married someone else. I’d have an easier time believing Sasha flew out to Texas and killed him.”
We passed a row of rust-colored beach umbrellas, and I looked up at the hotel behind them. Sprawling, with chocolate-brown stairs leading up to a large building surrounded by lagoon-like swimming pools, the resort looked luxurious. As we walked further down the sand, members of the hotel staff were setting up a dark wood ceremony structure draped with white fabric in front of three short rows of folding chairs. Four fabric-draped poles marked off four corners of the beach, each topped with a large floral ring reminiscent of a wagon wheel, with white tassels dangling underneath.
“A wedding,” Richard said, more like a curse than a statement.
I sped up my pace. “We do seem to have a hard time avoiding brides and weddings on this trip.”
“I don’t mind weddings,” Kristina said. “Of course I don’t do them all the time. I do a lot of big galas.”
“It would be nice to have the occasional event without a bride,” I said. “Their emotional needs can drain you.”
Brett walked around one of the standing floral rings, reaching up and tapping one of the tassels. “Try doing a wedding for a celebrity bride. Or, even worse, a reality TV celebrity bride.”
Richard made a face. “That’s the one saving grace of DC. No reality TV stars.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I said, shuddering at the thought of reality TV stars descending on my understated and classic city.
“Annabelle’s right,” Brett said. “They’re the worst. They’re not famous, but they think they are, so they want everything for free. And if they don’t get their way, they go off on Twitter. It’s a nightmare.”
Suddenly our brides weren’t looking so bad.
“But at least you have recognizable famous people,” Richard said. “Our famous people are politicians. Most people couldn’t pick them out of a lineup no matter how powerful they are. Plus, they aren’t pretty. I wouldn’t mind having some pretty people.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “We have pretty brides.”
Richard sighed. “But the grooms, Annabelle. What about the grooms? You’re not going to stand here and tell me that the Secretary of Commerce or Treasury or whatever was a looker.”
Richard was right. I was not. And I wasn’t going to defend his bride either. Although the raven-haired actress was one of the so-called pretty people Richard craved, she hadn’t been a pleasant client, and I was thrilled to have that wedding in my rearview mirror.
“Should we head back to the hotel?” Kristina asked. “I’m definitely going to need to shower and wash my hair before dinner tonight.”
We reversed ourselves, passing the wedding setup again. This time there was a small wooden table under the wedding ceremony structure and more chairs had been added.
“So, just for argument’s sake, let’s say Sasha didn’t kill Veronica,” I said. “Who else might have a reason to murder her?”
Richard narrowed his eyes at me. “Why don’t we leave that to the police?”
“You heard our driver this morning,” I said. “The Balinese don’t have crime unless tourists bring it. That means they’re not going to know how to get inside the mind of a killer. Which means they probably won’t figure out who did it.”
Kristina raised an eyebrow. “Someone likes true crime.”
Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone thinks she’s Columbo just because she’s dating a detective.”
Kristina’s face lit up. “A detective? Is he cute?”
“If you like the dark and smoldering type,” Richard said before I could answer.
“We do,” Brett said, giving me an appreciative nod.
Kristina nudged me. “Nice going, girl.”
I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Back to the murder. Who else on this trip has a motive?”
“What if Sasha herself didn’t kill Veronica but brought Jeremy with her as a hit man?” Richard suggested.
I gave Richard a pointed look and lifted my long cover-up as a wave splashed my feet. “I know you hate Jeremy and would love for him to go to prison, but that seems like a bit of a stretch.”
“Veronica and Sasha weren’t the only people who shared partners at Inspire,” Brett said. “There are definitely people who hook up with someone new each time. Long-lasting couples like Jacob and Katherine are rare.”
“So did Veronica steal anyone else’s boyfriend?” I asked. “You said she hung around with Chatty Cathy. What about her?”
Brett shook his head. “Not that I ever heard about. Cathy didn’t have the same luck as some of the other women. Maybe because she would talk you to death before anything could happen.”
Kristina snapped her fingers. “Do you remember that big scandal a few years ago? With Dina and Veronica and another woman?”
“A sex scandal?” Richard asked, lowering his voice as he said it, even though there was no one near us. “With three women?”
“It wasn’t between the women,” Kristina said.
“I think I remember hearing the gossip about it afterward,” Brett said. “Didn’t one of them have an affair with a slick photographer and end up getting divorced over it?”
“Like Sasha,” I said, wondering how many marriages were ruined by business conferences. I’d never known wedding conferences to be hotbeds of infidelity, but clearly I’d been a bit out of the loop.
We reached the public beach and walked up to the tables and chairs set out on the sand. A lone waitress was delivering food to the few customers, and my stomach growled as I watched a guest nibble on a skewer of grilled meat and another twirl noodles onto a fork. Due to Veronica dropping dead last night, I’d yet to try Indonesian noodles or satay, two of the dishes the country was famous for. We wound our way through the tables and into our resort’s beach area.
“Did Veronica have the affair?” I asked.
“I don’t think so, but to be honest, the details are a bit fuzzy,” Kristina said. “You should really ask Dina. She’s the only person here aside from Veronica who was involved.”
Brett pointed to a figure stretched out on a lounge chair just two away from Kate and Fern. “You can ask her right now. Isn’t that Dina?”
I leaned down as we approached the chair. Although her dark hair was fanned out around her shoulders and not in a high bun like it was last night, I recognized the petite woman behind the round tortoiseshell sunglasses. I took a breath to gather my courage. “Hey, Dina.”
She didn’t respond.
“Is she sleeping?” Kate asked when she spotted us. “She’s going to burn like a lobster with that fair skin if she’s not careful. She already looks a bit pink.”
“How long has she been here?” I asked, noticing the three empty martini glasses on the table beside her chair. A white-and-orange container of Roche-Posay sunscreen peeked out of her beach bag next to her bubble gum-pink Sigg water bottle.
Fern sat up and took off his sunglasses, holding a hand over his eyes to block the sun. “She came out right after you all left for your walk. She said she’d been clearing her head on the treadmill and was ready to drown her sorrows.”
“That makes sense,” Kristina said. “She was always a bit of a workout fanatic.”
Brett pointed to the metal water bottle. “And an Inspire fanatic. That’s from the conference the year it was in Playa del Carmen. I think I still have mine somewhere.”
Richard pointed to the empty martini glasses. “And a fan of cocktails.”
I shook the woman’s foot gently, not surprised she’d passed out after chugging multiple drinks. “Wakey, wakey, Dina. Time to get out of the sun.”
Nothing. I felt a cold chill go through me despite the heat.
Brett sat down on the lounge chair next to her, and Dina’s hand slid off her waist and flopped down onto Brett’s leg. He jumped up and slapped a hand over his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Kristina asked, looking from him to Dina.
He lifted his hand from his mouth and choked out the words. “It’s cold. Her hand is cold.”
I bent down and gingerly lifted Dina’s sunglasses. Her eyes were wide and unblinking underneath. I dropped the glasses back on her face and stood up, looking at the stricken faces around me.
Fern came up and put an arm around my shoulder. “Is she . . .?”
I swallowed hard. “She’s dead.”
11
“Is it true?” Carol Ann rushed toward us with Dahlia and Kelly close on her heels.
We’d gathered on the sand a few feet away from the hotel security team surrounding Dina—far enough so we weren’t staring at the dead woman’s face, but close enough to answer any questions that might arise about how we’d found the body. I’d turned my back on the morbid scene, but I could still hear the hushed conversation, although I didn’t understand the Indonesian words the security team exchanged.
A group of other hotel guests, including Chatty Cathy, stood apart from us, watching the activity and whispering about it. I noticed Sasha and Jeremy were no longer at their loungers, and I wondered when they’d slipped inside. I tried to ignore the stares, but I recognized the murmured gossip. Fern’s arm remained around my shoulder; it was the only reason I hadn’t collapsed onto the ground from shock.
Kristina caught Carol Ann by the arm before she reached the body. “It’s true. The security team is securing the scene until the police arrive.”
Carol Ann looked wildly around her, her eyes darting from face to face. “This can’t be happening. It just can’t. People don’t die on wedding planner FAM trips.”
“You haven’t been on one with us before,” Richard said under his breath.
I shot him a look. “Maybe this was an accident, Carol Ann. We don’t know it was another murder.”
Carol Ann waved a hand in the direction of Dina. “Why would a forty-year-old woman drop dead while lying in the sun?”
I fought the urge to look over my shoulder. Just the thought of Dina’s glassy stare and waxy skin made me go cold.
“This is a plot.” Carol Ann waved a finger in the air. “Someone is trying to ruin my reputation by wrecking this trip and knocking off all the guests.”
Dahlia slipped an arm around her boss’s waist as she hurried up behind her. “You’ve been working too hard, and the stress is getting to you. Why don’t we go back up to your room? I’m sure the hotel will keep us posted on the investigation.”
Carol Ann put her face in her hands and burst into tears. “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m just so upset.” She sobbed. “I can’t believe Dina is dead.”
Brett enveloped her in a hug. “That’s okay, doll. We know you didn’t mean it. This is devastating to all of us.” He looked up at Dahlia. “I can take her upstairs for you.”
“I’ll go with them,” Kelly said, flicking a hand through her short blond hair.
“Thanks,” Dahlia said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
We all watched as Brett and Kelly led Carol Ann away, her shoulders heaving as she cried into his shoulder.
“What did she mean about this being a plot?” Kate asked once Carol Ann was out of earshot.
Dahlia sighed. “This is only our second time bringing planners to a resort, but Carol Ann hopes to make this a division of our business. A profitable one.”
Kristina nodded. “So having planners dying definitely doesn’t help sell the service to other resorts.”
“Not so much.” Dahlia pulled her pale hair into a messy ponytail. “But I doubt she’s seriously concerned about sabotage. It was the stress talking. Who would benefit from our FAM trip planning not being successful?”
I shrugged. “Are there any other planners trying to do the same thing?”
“Or any planners on this trip who’ve decided they want to do what you’re doing?” Richard asked.
“You’d have to be pretty psychotic to murder people on the off chance of stealing business,” Kate said.
Richard cocked an eyebrow. “These are wedding professionals we’re talking about.”
“We don’t even know for sure this was murder,” I repeated. Even though it looked bad, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I also didn’t like thinking there was a serial killer on the loose in paradise.
Fern patted my arm. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”
“I’d better get back to Carol Ann,” Dahlia said. “If you find out anything, can you let us know?”
We assured her we would.
“When do you think we can leave?” Richard asked in a loud voice, casting a glance over his shoulder at the black-clad security officers.
“Soon, I hope.” Kate put a hand to her hair. “I still need to get ready for dinner.”
“Are we still having a dinner?” Kristina asked. “Last night’s was a total bust, and we only made it to the first course before someone dropped dead. Today we haven’t even gotten that far and another woman is killed.”
“Talk about a subdued beachside barbecue,” I said, referencing the dinner’s theme. “The dress I had planned for tonight is much too cheery.”
Fern’s face creased with worry. “I’m not sure what to wear. My embroidered Balinese pants don’t exactly go with multiple murders, either.”
I felt my phone buzz in my bag, and I pawed through the contents until I found it. I glanced at the name on the screen and pressed the talk button.
“I’m glad you called,” I said to Reese as Fern gave me a smug smile, and I took a few steps away from the group.
“Miss me already?” His deep voice sounded slightly flirtatious.
“Yes,” I admitted, letting out a shaky breath. “I wish you were here right now.”
“What’s wrong?” Reese asked, his voice less suggestive.
I paused for a moment as I considered how much to tell the detective. It wasn’t like he could rush to my rescue from half a world away, but I knew that telling him everything would make me feel better. Not to mention he might have insights into the situation from his years on the DC police force.
I turned to observe the Balinese police officers that had just arrived and stood huddled around the body. They wore black cargo pants and short-sleeved shirts the color of stone, covered with pockets and patches. Black berets with a shiny gold badge pinned to one side covered their close-cropped hair. Between the hotel security officers and the newly arrived police, all I could see of Dina were her bare legs stretched out on the lounge chair. My eyes fell on her perfectly polished red toenails, and I shuddered. I’m sure she’d gotten a pedicure before the trip, just as Kate and I had. I wondered how much more we had in common with the two victims.
“Annabelle?” His voice snapped me out of my own thoughts.
“I’m sorry.” I turned away from the crime scene. “It’s a bit of a madhouse here. One of the other wedding planners was killed. Well, we aren’t sure she was killed, but we know the first one was.”
Silence on the other end of the phone.
“Are you there?”
“Two wedding planners have been killed since I spoke to you yesterday?”
I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Yes, but I have to say, you seem to be taking this pretty calmly.”
“I’m just trying to digest the fact that you only arrived in Bali yesterday and already you’re mixed up in a homicide. Correction. Two homicides. To be honest, Annabelle, I’m starting to think that you or one of your friends might actually be a serial killer.”
“I thought we were taking a walk,” he said, propelling me forward and away from Jeremy.
Kristina linked her arm through Richard’s and dragged him with her as he hurled an insult about Jeremy’s knockoff Prada flip-flops over his shoulder.
We walked down the hard-packed sand until we’d reached the edge of the water. I looked out into the ocean and saw the waves breaking further out, making the water close to the shore flat and placid. The sea extended out in bands of blue, from a pale turquoise at the sand to teal as the water deepened to indigo where the waves crested. I relaxed my hands and tried to put Jeremy and his threats out of my mind as I took in a breath free of spicy perfume.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said to Kristina and Brett.
“I’m just sorry I didn’t get to tell him what I thought about his bargain basement spray-on tan,” Richard said, clearly still fuming.
“Don’t give it a second thought,” Kristina said, patting Richard on the shoulder. “Jeremy makes enemies everywhere he goes.”
“How do you know everyone?” I asked.
Brett winked at me. “I’m not as young as I look. Plus, almost all the people on this trip are Inspire people. Different cliques but I still know who they are.”
Since I was on the end closest to the ocean, I let the water wash up around my feet, feeling pleasantly surprised by the warmth of the water. “And Chatty Cathy is from Inspire?”
Kristina nodded. “She tried to hang with Dina and Veronica more than with us though.”
“Which was fine by me,” Brett added.
“So whom did Sasha pal around with at Inspire?” Richard asked. “Aside from the guy she had an affair with?”
We crossed from our resort’s beach area into what appeared to be a public beach with an open-air restaurant and plastic lounge chairs grouped closely together in tight rows. A thatched hut with a pair of high massage tables sat over to one side, and two bored masseuses sat underneath talking to each other.
Kristina thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I don’t know if she did hang around with a group. And after the affair ended, she never returned to Inspire.”
“That’s sad,” I said.
“She was cheating on her husband for years,” Richard reminded me. “Plus, she’s the reason Jeremy is here.”
I gave myself a mental slap. “Right. Forget I said that.” I stepped around a stretch of crushed shells in the sand. “Do you think Sasha could have killed Veronica to get revenge after all these years?”
Brett and Kristina exchanged a glance, and Brett shrugged. “I don’t know her well enough to say, but she doesn’t seem like the most easygoing person.”
“But why wait all this time to take her revenge?” Kristina asked. “And it’s not like Veronica stayed with the guy. He married someone else. I’d have an easier time believing Sasha flew out to Texas and killed him.”
We passed a row of rust-colored beach umbrellas, and I looked up at the hotel behind them. Sprawling, with chocolate-brown stairs leading up to a large building surrounded by lagoon-like swimming pools, the resort looked luxurious. As we walked further down the sand, members of the hotel staff were setting up a dark wood ceremony structure draped with white fabric in front of three short rows of folding chairs. Four fabric-draped poles marked off four corners of the beach, each topped with a large floral ring reminiscent of a wagon wheel, with white tassels dangling underneath.
“A wedding,” Richard said, more like a curse than a statement.
I sped up my pace. “We do seem to have a hard time avoiding brides and weddings on this trip.”
“I don’t mind weddings,” Kristina said. “Of course I don’t do them all the time. I do a lot of big galas.”
“It would be nice to have the occasional event without a bride,” I said. “Their emotional needs can drain you.”
Brett walked around one of the standing floral rings, reaching up and tapping one of the tassels. “Try doing a wedding for a celebrity bride. Or, even worse, a reality TV celebrity bride.”
Richard made a face. “That’s the one saving grace of DC. No reality TV stars.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I said, shuddering at the thought of reality TV stars descending on my understated and classic city.
“Annabelle’s right,” Brett said. “They’re the worst. They’re not famous, but they think they are, so they want everything for free. And if they don’t get their way, they go off on Twitter. It’s a nightmare.”
Suddenly our brides weren’t looking so bad.
“But at least you have recognizable famous people,” Richard said. “Our famous people are politicians. Most people couldn’t pick them out of a lineup no matter how powerful they are. Plus, they aren’t pretty. I wouldn’t mind having some pretty people.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “We have pretty brides.”
Richard sighed. “But the grooms, Annabelle. What about the grooms? You’re not going to stand here and tell me that the Secretary of Commerce or Treasury or whatever was a looker.”
Richard was right. I was not. And I wasn’t going to defend his bride either. Although the raven-haired actress was one of the so-called pretty people Richard craved, she hadn’t been a pleasant client, and I was thrilled to have that wedding in my rearview mirror.
“Should we head back to the hotel?” Kristina asked. “I’m definitely going to need to shower and wash my hair before dinner tonight.”
We reversed ourselves, passing the wedding setup again. This time there was a small wooden table under the wedding ceremony structure and more chairs had been added.
“So, just for argument’s sake, let’s say Sasha didn’t kill Veronica,” I said. “Who else might have a reason to murder her?”
Richard narrowed his eyes at me. “Why don’t we leave that to the police?”
“You heard our driver this morning,” I said. “The Balinese don’t have crime unless tourists bring it. That means they’re not going to know how to get inside the mind of a killer. Which means they probably won’t figure out who did it.”
Kristina raised an eyebrow. “Someone likes true crime.”
Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone thinks she’s Columbo just because she’s dating a detective.”
Kristina’s face lit up. “A detective? Is he cute?”
“If you like the dark and smoldering type,” Richard said before I could answer.
“We do,” Brett said, giving me an appreciative nod.
Kristina nudged me. “Nice going, girl.”
I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Back to the murder. Who else on this trip has a motive?”
“What if Sasha herself didn’t kill Veronica but brought Jeremy with her as a hit man?” Richard suggested.
I gave Richard a pointed look and lifted my long cover-up as a wave splashed my feet. “I know you hate Jeremy and would love for him to go to prison, but that seems like a bit of a stretch.”
“Veronica and Sasha weren’t the only people who shared partners at Inspire,” Brett said. “There are definitely people who hook up with someone new each time. Long-lasting couples like Jacob and Katherine are rare.”
“So did Veronica steal anyone else’s boyfriend?” I asked. “You said she hung around with Chatty Cathy. What about her?”
Brett shook his head. “Not that I ever heard about. Cathy didn’t have the same luck as some of the other women. Maybe because she would talk you to death before anything could happen.”
Kristina snapped her fingers. “Do you remember that big scandal a few years ago? With Dina and Veronica and another woman?”
“A sex scandal?” Richard asked, lowering his voice as he said it, even though there was no one near us. “With three women?”
“It wasn’t between the women,” Kristina said.
“I think I remember hearing the gossip about it afterward,” Brett said. “Didn’t one of them have an affair with a slick photographer and end up getting divorced over it?”
“Like Sasha,” I said, wondering how many marriages were ruined by business conferences. I’d never known wedding conferences to be hotbeds of infidelity, but clearly I’d been a bit out of the loop.
We reached the public beach and walked up to the tables and chairs set out on the sand. A lone waitress was delivering food to the few customers, and my stomach growled as I watched a guest nibble on a skewer of grilled meat and another twirl noodles onto a fork. Due to Veronica dropping dead last night, I’d yet to try Indonesian noodles or satay, two of the dishes the country was famous for. We wound our way through the tables and into our resort’s beach area.
“Did Veronica have the affair?” I asked.
“I don’t think so, but to be honest, the details are a bit fuzzy,” Kristina said. “You should really ask Dina. She’s the only person here aside from Veronica who was involved.”
Brett pointed to a figure stretched out on a lounge chair just two away from Kate and Fern. “You can ask her right now. Isn’t that Dina?”
I leaned down as we approached the chair. Although her dark hair was fanned out around her shoulders and not in a high bun like it was last night, I recognized the petite woman behind the round tortoiseshell sunglasses. I took a breath to gather my courage. “Hey, Dina.”
She didn’t respond.
“Is she sleeping?” Kate asked when she spotted us. “She’s going to burn like a lobster with that fair skin if she’s not careful. She already looks a bit pink.”
“How long has she been here?” I asked, noticing the three empty martini glasses on the table beside her chair. A white-and-orange container of Roche-Posay sunscreen peeked out of her beach bag next to her bubble gum-pink Sigg water bottle.
Fern sat up and took off his sunglasses, holding a hand over his eyes to block the sun. “She came out right after you all left for your walk. She said she’d been clearing her head on the treadmill and was ready to drown her sorrows.”
“That makes sense,” Kristina said. “She was always a bit of a workout fanatic.”
Brett pointed to the metal water bottle. “And an Inspire fanatic. That’s from the conference the year it was in Playa del Carmen. I think I still have mine somewhere.”
Richard pointed to the empty martini glasses. “And a fan of cocktails.”
I shook the woman’s foot gently, not surprised she’d passed out after chugging multiple drinks. “Wakey, wakey, Dina. Time to get out of the sun.”
Nothing. I felt a cold chill go through me despite the heat.
Brett sat down on the lounge chair next to her, and Dina’s hand slid off her waist and flopped down onto Brett’s leg. He jumped up and slapped a hand over his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Kristina asked, looking from him to Dina.
He lifted his hand from his mouth and choked out the words. “It’s cold. Her hand is cold.”
I bent down and gingerly lifted Dina’s sunglasses. Her eyes were wide and unblinking underneath. I dropped the glasses back on her face and stood up, looking at the stricken faces around me.
Fern came up and put an arm around my shoulder. “Is she . . .?”
I swallowed hard. “She’s dead.”
11
“Is it true?” Carol Ann rushed toward us with Dahlia and Kelly close on her heels.
We’d gathered on the sand a few feet away from the hotel security team surrounding Dina—far enough so we weren’t staring at the dead woman’s face, but close enough to answer any questions that might arise about how we’d found the body. I’d turned my back on the morbid scene, but I could still hear the hushed conversation, although I didn’t understand the Indonesian words the security team exchanged.
A group of other hotel guests, including Chatty Cathy, stood apart from us, watching the activity and whispering about it. I noticed Sasha and Jeremy were no longer at their loungers, and I wondered when they’d slipped inside. I tried to ignore the stares, but I recognized the murmured gossip. Fern’s arm remained around my shoulder; it was the only reason I hadn’t collapsed onto the ground from shock.
Kristina caught Carol Ann by the arm before she reached the body. “It’s true. The security team is securing the scene until the police arrive.”
Carol Ann looked wildly around her, her eyes darting from face to face. “This can’t be happening. It just can’t. People don’t die on wedding planner FAM trips.”
“You haven’t been on one with us before,” Richard said under his breath.
I shot him a look. “Maybe this was an accident, Carol Ann. We don’t know it was another murder.”
Carol Ann waved a hand in the direction of Dina. “Why would a forty-year-old woman drop dead while lying in the sun?”
I fought the urge to look over my shoulder. Just the thought of Dina’s glassy stare and waxy skin made me go cold.
“This is a plot.” Carol Ann waved a finger in the air. “Someone is trying to ruin my reputation by wrecking this trip and knocking off all the guests.”
Dahlia slipped an arm around her boss’s waist as she hurried up behind her. “You’ve been working too hard, and the stress is getting to you. Why don’t we go back up to your room? I’m sure the hotel will keep us posted on the investigation.”
Carol Ann put her face in her hands and burst into tears. “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m just so upset.” She sobbed. “I can’t believe Dina is dead.”
Brett enveloped her in a hug. “That’s okay, doll. We know you didn’t mean it. This is devastating to all of us.” He looked up at Dahlia. “I can take her upstairs for you.”
“I’ll go with them,” Kelly said, flicking a hand through her short blond hair.
“Thanks,” Dahlia said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
We all watched as Brett and Kelly led Carol Ann away, her shoulders heaving as she cried into his shoulder.
“What did she mean about this being a plot?” Kate asked once Carol Ann was out of earshot.
Dahlia sighed. “This is only our second time bringing planners to a resort, but Carol Ann hopes to make this a division of our business. A profitable one.”
Kristina nodded. “So having planners dying definitely doesn’t help sell the service to other resorts.”
“Not so much.” Dahlia pulled her pale hair into a messy ponytail. “But I doubt she’s seriously concerned about sabotage. It was the stress talking. Who would benefit from our FAM trip planning not being successful?”
I shrugged. “Are there any other planners trying to do the same thing?”
“Or any planners on this trip who’ve decided they want to do what you’re doing?” Richard asked.
“You’d have to be pretty psychotic to murder people on the off chance of stealing business,” Kate said.
Richard cocked an eyebrow. “These are wedding professionals we’re talking about.”
“We don’t even know for sure this was murder,” I repeated. Even though it looked bad, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I also didn’t like thinking there was a serial killer on the loose in paradise.
Fern patted my arm. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”
“I’d better get back to Carol Ann,” Dahlia said. “If you find out anything, can you let us know?”
We assured her we would.
“When do you think we can leave?” Richard asked in a loud voice, casting a glance over his shoulder at the black-clad security officers.
“Soon, I hope.” Kate put a hand to her hair. “I still need to get ready for dinner.”
“Are we still having a dinner?” Kristina asked. “Last night’s was a total bust, and we only made it to the first course before someone dropped dead. Today we haven’t even gotten that far and another woman is killed.”
“Talk about a subdued beachside barbecue,” I said, referencing the dinner’s theme. “The dress I had planned for tonight is much too cheery.”
Fern’s face creased with worry. “I’m not sure what to wear. My embroidered Balinese pants don’t exactly go with multiple murders, either.”
I felt my phone buzz in my bag, and I pawed through the contents until I found it. I glanced at the name on the screen and pressed the talk button.
“I’m glad you called,” I said to Reese as Fern gave me a smug smile, and I took a few steps away from the group.
“Miss me already?” His deep voice sounded slightly flirtatious.
“Yes,” I admitted, letting out a shaky breath. “I wish you were here right now.”
“What’s wrong?” Reese asked, his voice less suggestive.
I paused for a moment as I considered how much to tell the detective. It wasn’t like he could rush to my rescue from half a world away, but I knew that telling him everything would make me feel better. Not to mention he might have insights into the situation from his years on the DC police force.
I turned to observe the Balinese police officers that had just arrived and stood huddled around the body. They wore black cargo pants and short-sleeved shirts the color of stone, covered with pockets and patches. Black berets with a shiny gold badge pinned to one side covered their close-cropped hair. Between the hotel security officers and the newly arrived police, all I could see of Dina were her bare legs stretched out on the lounge chair. My eyes fell on her perfectly polished red toenails, and I shuddered. I’m sure she’d gotten a pedicure before the trip, just as Kate and I had. I wondered how much more we had in common with the two victims.
“Annabelle?” His voice snapped me out of my own thoughts.
“I’m sorry.” I turned away from the crime scene. “It’s a bit of a madhouse here. One of the other wedding planners was killed. Well, we aren’t sure she was killed, but we know the first one was.”
Silence on the other end of the phone.
“Are you there?”
“Two wedding planners have been killed since I spoke to you yesterday?”
I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Yes, but I have to say, you seem to be taking this pretty calmly.”
“I’m just trying to digest the fact that you only arrived in Bali yesterday and already you’re mixed up in a homicide. Correction. Two homicides. To be honest, Annabelle, I’m starting to think that you or one of your friends might actually be a serial killer.”
