Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 166
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
Kate took it from her and inspected it. “I’m guessing there’s a pillow somewhere under the beads.”
“It’s perfect,” I said. “Do you have a matching guest book?”
“Of course.” The sales clerk produced a glittery book from the shelf. The bugle beads dangling off the wide cover and knocking into each other made it the noisiest guest book I’d seen. Not to mention the largest. Since Texans loved things big, I knew our clients would love it.
“We’ll take them both.” I produced Kitty’s credit card and handed it over.
“Annabelle? Kate?” Lucille’s warbling voice came from the door leading to the back of the shop. “Is that really you?”
“I’m surprised she’s working,” Kate said to me in a low voice. “Shouldn’t she be in grief counseling or something?”
“That’s what I said,” the sales clerk mumbled as she walked past us on the way to the cash register up front.
Lucille came toward us wearing a red sweater. With her snow-white hair, she would have looked remarkably like Mrs. Claus if it hadn’t been for her red, swollen eyes. “It’s good of you to come. Margery and I didn’t think we’d see anyone before the viewing on Thursday.”
“We wanted to see how you two are holding up.” Kate patted Lucille on the arm. If I didn’t know better I’d have thought she sounded sincere.
Lucille sniffled. “It’s hard to go on without her. The shop isn’t the same.”
I nodded, even though this was the first time I’d actually set foot in The Wedding Shoppe. My few interactions with Carolyn Crabbe hadn’t been particularly pleasant, so it was tough to imagine her bringing sunshine to the workplace.
“At least you have good help.” I motioned to the salesclerk ringing up our purchases.
“Dora is wonderful, but she’s the only sales associate we have left.” Lucille swiped at her damp eyes. “Carolyn had to let two employees go last week, so we’re short-staffed.”
“She probably didn’t plan on getting killed when she fired them,” Kate said.
Lucille dissolved into tears, and I glared at Kate. Nice going, I mouthed.
“Lucille.” Margery appeared behind her in a conservative beige tweed suit. It seemed like everything she wore was a shade of brown. “You’re in no state to be on the sales floor.”
“You’re right.” Lucille wiped away her tears. “Please excuse me, girls.”
“I’m sorry if we upset her,” I said once Lucille had disappeared into the back of the store.
“It’s not your fault.” Margery gave a wave of her hand. “She’s always been the emotional one. She cries every time she hears ‘Pachelbel’s Canon,’ and you know how many brides use that for a processional song. She’s been hysterical since she saw Carolyn’s body. Yesterday didn’t help matters either.”
“Wasn’t it awful about Eleanor?” I said. “The second dead wedding planner must have sent Lucille over the edge.”
Margery looked over her shoulder toward the back of the shop. “Two dead planners and two dead bosses.”
“Pardon?” I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“You knew Eleanor was Carolyn’s original business partner, didn’t you?” Margery said. “Of course that was ages ago. Lucille and I had just started working for them when she and Carolyn split.”
“Was it a friendly split?” Kate asked.
Margery raised an eyebrow. “You really didn’t know Carolyn, did you? Even back then Eleanor wasn’t sophisticated, but she was a whiz at paperwork. Carolyn used her to get the business set up but then dumped her once the company started getting high-end weddings.”
I gave a low whistle. “That explains Eleanor’s obsession with celebrity weddings. She must have been trying to compete with Carolyn.”
Margery nodded. “Even though Carolyn dropped her like a hot potato, I hear she had quite a following in the suburbs. She ended up doing well enough on her own.”
“Except she was strangled to death,” Kate said. I almost smacked her.
The door chimes rang, and Margery looked to the front door as several women entered. “You will excuse me, won’t you? I need to help cover the floor.”
When Margery walked out of earshot I elbowed Kate. “Do you think you could have brought up the murders many more times?”
“Not without looking suspicious.” Kate lowered her voice, missing my point entirely. “Can you believe Eleanor and Carolyn used to be business partners? The pot thickens.”
“You could say that,” I said, not bothering to correct her.
16
“Parking is a nightmare.” Richard breezed past the host stand at the Peacock Café and joined us at the window table we’d nabbed before the restaurant had gotten busy.
Kate and I had been watching the glittering lights of traffic as we’d sipped our glasses of wine and waited for Richard to join us. The bar sat behind an arched wood-and-glass partition to one side of the dining room and had filled up quickly with the stylish set. The rest of the dining room consisted of blond wood tables topped with white linens and walls alternating mirrors and artwork.
The scents from the kitchen filled the restaurant, and I eyed an order of fried calamari as it passed. At least Kate and I had sated our hunger with wine while we waited for Richard. Kate was nearly finished with her Pinot Noir, but I’d been sipping slowly on my Sauvignon Blanc.
“It’s Georgetown,” Kate said over the hum of conversation. “Parking is always a nightmare.”
“Too true, darlings.” Richard gave us each a pair of air kisses before sitting down. He’d recently taken up the European custom of kissing on both cheeks as a tribute to his French heritage. Not that any of his ancestors had set foot in France for the past few generations.
Richard ordered a Campari and soda from the closest passing waiter and relaxed into his low wooden chair.
“Stressful day?” I asked.
“You have no idea.” Richard slipped his black jacket off and rolled up the sleeves of his melon-green shirt. “Jim’s flying squirrel got loose at Richard Gerard HQ.”
“Was it ‘bring your illegal pet to work day’ and no one told me?” Kate said.
Richard gave her a withering look. “Don’t even ask why the creature was in the building to begin with because it will get me all whipped up.”
I suppressed a smile. “Doesn’t Jim keep him on a leash?”
Richard took his drink from the waiter before it reached the table. “Apparently flying squirrels are nocturnal. He was supposed to sleep all day in the closet.”
“The closet?” Kate asked.
Richard took a long drink. “In the pocket of Jim’s coat to be exact.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “Sounds like a foolproof plan.”
“Doesn’t it?” Richard raised an eyebrow.
“I hope for the squirrel’s sake he didn’t get loose in your office,” I said. I could only imagine Richard’s tolerance for a squirrel running amok in his pristine space that consisted of a black wood desk and two designer Plexiglass chairs.
Richard shook his head. “No, but suffice it to say the animal had never seen ceramics before. My collection of whimsical salt and pepper shakers was destroyed.” Richard waved a hand. “Enough about my horrific day. You didn’t stumble across any more corpses you neglected to mention, did you?”
“Nope.” I took a sip of my wine. “We had a normal afternoon for a change. After we met a bride for a final dress fitting, we bought a few last-minute things for the wedding and then came here.”
Richard gave me a suspicious look as he flipped open his menu. “I’m surprised you stayed away from trouble for an entire day.”
“You should see some of the stuff they have at The Wedding Shoppe,” Kate said. “Did you know you can get rhinestone-studded ‘Bride’ and ‘Groom’ thongs?”
Richard shuddered and narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait a second. What were you doing at The Wedding Shoppe?”
“We needed a guest book and ring bearer pillow and thought they’d have the best selection,” I said.
“You’ve never shopped there before.” Richard looked unconvinced. “Do you expect me to believe you didn’t go there to get information on Carolyn?”
“Wow. He’s good,” Kate said.
“I knew you couldn’t resist the temptation to poke around in this murder investigation.” Richard wagged a finger at me. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to be next.”
“That’s exactly why we’re trying to find out who has it out for wedding planners and why,” I said. “If there really is a serial killer on the loose, then we’re potential victims.”
Richard tapped his chin. “You have a point. You have been a little too close to both murders for comfort.”
“We’re doing a little harmless information gathering,” Kate explained. “We plan to tell anything we find out to the cops so they can track down the killer.”
“Well?” Richard looked back and forth between us. “Did you find out anything good?”
Kate scooted to the edge of her chair. “Eleanor Applebaum used to be Carolyn’s business partner, and Carolyn got rid of her once the business started to take off.”
“And?” Richard asked. “That’s old news.”
“Not to us,” I said. “Why didn’t you ever mention that?”
“Why bother? There’s much better gossip than something boring that happened twenty years ago.” His eyes dropped down to his menu.
“Boring?” I asked. “I’ll bet the police won’t think the connection between the two murder victims is boring.”
“They won’t once they find out why Eleanor left the business without much of a fuss,” Richard said in a sing-song voice. “That’s not boring.”
Kate leaned across the table. “You know?”
Richard grinned. “Rumor has it Carolyn blackmailed her. Either Eleanor could leave quietly, or Carolyn would make sure everyone saw the pictures of her with Maxwell.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open. “Eleanor Applebaum and Maxwell Gray? The wedding photographer who always tries to seduce the bridesmaids?”
“And sometimes the bride,” Richard muttered.
“He’s popular with wedding planners too,” I said. I’d heard rumors about my colleagues and the Don Juan of the DC wedding world, although Eleanor really didn’t seem like his type.
“Apparently he and Carolyn set her up.” Richard continued. “The affair with Maxwell and the kinky photos were all part of Carolyn’s plan.”
“Why would Maxwell go to all that trouble to help Carolyn?” I asked. “I know she asked for commissions from vendors, but that’s a bit extreme.”
“Probably because he and Carolyn had been having an on-again-off-again affair for years,” Richard said. “There was a time he would have done anything for her. That was before her looks went, of course.”
“I don’t think I saw her before her looks went.” Kate made a face. “Remind me to disinfect myself the next time I shake Maxwell’s hand.” Bold words coming from the woman who’d been known to use a spreadsheet to keep track of the men she dated.
“The two victims had a lot more in common than we first thought.” I swallowed hard. “Narrowing down the suspects may not be such an easy feat after all.”
17
“I need to order fifty of the Daisy Clear Frosted bags and a roll of the dotty yellow sheer ribbon.” I leaned back in my office chair as I placed my order with Bags & Bows. Kate and I had spent part of the morning brainstorming hotel welcome bag ideas for an upcoming wedding, and the bride’s theme for the wedding was daisies.
The bride’s bouquet was a clutch of daisies, sugar daisies would cover the wedding cake, and a pressed daisy adorned the top of her custom-made wedding invitations. It only made sense the gift bags would feature daisies, but I felt close to ODing on this wedding theme. In this case, Over Daisying.
The doorbell rang as I finished placing the order and hung up the phone. I glanced at the clock on my desk. Twelve thirty. Too early for Kate to be back from The Container Store. I’d sent her off earlier to buy bunches of little metal tins to hold the daisy-shaped candies for the welcome bags, and the nearest location was in the ‘burbs.
Of course, it wasn’t too early for me to have made it to the shower. I groaned as I looked down at the fleece pants and hoodie I’d thrown on after waking up. I’d only intended to return a few phone calls this morning before getting dressed. That had been hours ago, and I hadn’t budged from my desk.
“Annabelle? Are you there?” I recognized Reese’s voice through the door.
I felt a wave of panic. I couldn’t let him see me like this. “Hold on,” I yelled. “I just got out of the shower.”
I leapt over the boxes of Devil Pickles and Tito’s vodka covering my office floor—part of the assemblage of Texas products for the Winchester wedding welcome bags—and flew down the hall to the bathroom, turning on the shower full blast while I tore off my clothes. I jumped in before testing the water and almost screamed because it was so cold. I danced in and out of the water as I soaped up and rinsed off in record time. I pulled a smoke-blue towel off the rack behind the door and dried myself as I ran to my bedroom.
“I’m coming,” I called out, throwing the towel to the floor and pawing through my underwear drawer. I clearly needed to do laundry because the only thing left in the drawer was the red mesh thong with white fringe Kate had given me as a gag gift last Christmas.
“Great,” I mumbled as I pulled it on. What kind of sadist designed thongs, anyway? Especially ones with fringe.
I tugged on my Seven jeans and a long-sleeved black knit top. A thong and trendy jeans. Kate would be so proud. I ran back into the bathroom and swept on a coat of mascara, patted my face with pressed powder and dabbed on some pink lip gloss. Tossing my head over, I fluffed my hair with my fingers then flipped it back up and let it fall into place. I looked in the mirror. Not bad for under five minutes.
“Coming.” I said as I rushed down the hall and skidded to a stop in front of the door. I took a deep breath and opened it.
Mike Reese leaned against the doorframe in a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt under a black leather jacket. With his one loose dark curl hanging over his forehead, he had a James Dean vibe going on that made my knees wobble. Oh boy.
He stepped forward and wrapped one arm around my waist, pressing his body fully against mine. He brushed a strand of hair off my face and ran a finger down my cheek and neck, pausing at the hollow in my throat. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could feel it, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
“You’ve been hard to reach,” he said, barely above a whisper.
I tried to reply but my mouth had gone dry.
“I left you a message earlier, but I decided to drop by before I went in to work.” He lowered his lips to my neck. “Mmmm. You smell good. Fruity.”
Thank you, mango body wash.
“It’s been a little crazy between the murders and the weddings,” I admitted, leaving out any mention of poking around for clues with Kate. I let my head drop back as he kissed down my throat.
“Is she okay?” Leatrice’s voice jolted me from my trance. “Did she faint?”
Leatrice stood behind us in the hall, wearing an orange sweater with colorful fabric turkeys sewn on the front for pockets. I straightened up and took a step back. I had to remember to close my door. Correction. Lock the door.
Reese’s arm slipped from my waist, and he turned to Leatrice. “She’s fine.”
Comprehension dawned on Leatrice’s face, and she turned pink under her heavy rouge. “I’ll leave you kids alone then.” She held out some folded-up pages of the newspaper. “I came up to give Annabelle the newspaper clippings about the murders.”
Great. The perfect addition to my scrapbook. “Thanks, Leatrice.” I took the papers and placed them on the nearby bookshelf.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, making no moves to leave, “with so many of your weddings involving a crime of some sort, maybe you should start packing heat.”
I tried not to laugh as I imagined the look on the bridesmaids’ faces when they went looking in my emergency kit for safety pins and found a Glock.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said. “I’ve wanted to kill too many of my brides.”
“We definitely don’t want you to start committing murder. Maybe you need a bodyguard.” Leatrice bounced up and down on her toes and the turkey pockets jiggled. “I could stay with you at night with my pepper spray and safety horn.”
“No,” I said a little too forcefully. “I’ll be fine.”
Reese leaned in close to me. “Maybe I should come over tonight and check on you just in case.”
“Sure,” I said. “Oh, wait. I forgot I have to go to an industry party. I promised Richard I’d be there since he’s catering.”
“What about afterwards?”
“Okay. I should be back by nine.”
“Until tonight then.” He kissed me lightly on the cheek, then left, leaving the door open for Leatrice to slip through.
She began gathering the papers on my coffee table. “We need to do some serious work on this place before tonight. And you are planning on doing something with your hair, aren’t you?”
“Of course. I’ve been working all morning, and I just got out of the shower. I didn’t have time to fix my hair yet.” Why was I explaining this to Leatrice?
She gave me a relieved smile. “That’s good to know, dear. Now where do you keep your cleaning supplies?” She paused and looked worried. “You do have cleaning supplies, don’t you?”
Before I could protest, the phone in my office rang. I rushed down the hall, hopped over the boxes of Texas vodka and pickles, and grabbed it before the call went to voicemail.
“Wedding Belles. This is Annabelle.”
“Annabelle, it’s Gail.”
