Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 168
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
“Pony rides from here until eternity sounds like a movie remake gone very wrong,” Fern mumbled from behind his hand.
I put a hand on Richard’s arm. “Take it easy. No one is conspiring against you.”
“The important thing is that you’re not overreacting,” Kate said.
Richard straightened his shoulders. “I never overreact. You know I hate dramatics.”
“Ten bucks he makes another waiter cry,” Kate whispered to Fern.
“Cry and run out wailing or just cry?” Fern asked her. “Those are different odds.”
Richard ignored them and took a deep breath. “The staff isn’t my only problem. Who are the high-maintenance girls who refuse to eat ‘cute animals?’ They made a huge scene when we passed duck quesadillas.”
“Where?” I asked. Considering the number of extremely young women at the party, it was a legitimate question.
Richard pointed to two women who seemed to be barely out of their teens hanging on Byron Wolfe. They both had blonde hair blown straight and looked bored with life. “Apparently they aren’t strict vegetarians, but they don’t eat any animal that used to frolic. Their words, not mine. Luckily, they don’t consider crabs or shrimp cute, so they wolfed down the crab wontons with blackberry sauce and the Hawaiian barbeque shrimp with papaya.”
I looked around for a waiter with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Where are those?”
“Are you sure they aren’t brides?” Kate said. “Sounds like bridal dementia to me.”
“They aren’t part of your assistant crew?” I asked Kate.
She shook her head. “Nope. Never seen them before.”
“Do you think they’d consider being waiters?” Richard asked. “You know I like my servers pretty.”
“Annabelle. Kate.” Gail Gordan appeared at my shoulder, but didn’t look directly at us when she spoke. She wore a black dress cut deep enough to show off a huge emerald pendant around her neck. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” I said. “What did you want to tell me about Byron?”
She gave a curt shake of her head. “Not here. Meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes.”
“She’s a little secretive, isn’t she?” Kate watched her walk away. “The dirt on Byron had better be worth it.”
“Gail is full of surprises.” I watched her pause in front of Maxwell and lean in close to talk with him. “She seems to know our host pretty well.”
Richard nudged us. “You have no idea.”
I watched as Gail pulled back from Maxwell and stalked off. “Is there anyone here who hasn’t been his victim?”
“Speaking of victims, what happened to Stephanie?” Kate looked around for the perky, young planner.
“Maybe she wised up,” I said and turned to Kate. “Let’s go meet Gail and get this over with.”
Fern grabbed us by the sleeves. “Promise you’ll come right back and tell us every word.”
“We promise,” I said. I led Kate through the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact with people. No time for chitchat. Luckily, Alexandra was so involved with the handsome, dark-haired photographer that she didn’t even notice us pass by. Most of the guests seemed pretty drunk, and more than a few people were getting cozy with each other. I knew this party would provide enough gossip for the wedding industry to thrive on for months.
I continued through the open-plan apartment, pushing through the metal swinging door leading to the kitchen. The countertops and appliances were gleaming stainless steel, and the cabinets were dark wood with metal knobs. The décor was minimalist and sleek without a hint of color. You could hardly get a more masculine kitchen without putting a grill or wide-screen TV in the center.
A few waiters scuttled around refilling white ceramic platters from the pair of tall metal warmers in the corner. I saw a black-lacquered tray of shot glasses filled with a milky-gray liquid and shuddered. Richard was right. Glass and mushroom soup did not mix.
“Where’s Gail?” Kate walked over to a platter of duck quesadillas and popped one in her mouth.
I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was past eight thirty. “I need to go in a few minutes. I have a date.”
Kate dropped a quesadilla on the black tile floor. “You have a date after this?” She put her hands on her hips. “What I am supposed to tell Richard? He’s going to be hysterical.”
Before Kate could interrogate me, the swinging door hit me on the back and sent me forward a few steps.
“Hi, Gail.” Kate looked up from scraping the quesadilla off the floor.
Gail stepped into the kitchen. “Sorry about that.” She didn’t seem too broken up. “I have to talk fast. I saw Byron moving this way.”
I rubbed my back where the door had smacked me. “What’s so important we have to meet in secret?”
Kate dropped the quesadilla in the trash and took a golden puffed samosa off a nearby platter. “And I thought you and Byron were friends.”
Gail’s cheeks reddened. “We were, I mean, we are. But I can’t keep his secrets anymore. The lies are eating me up inside.”
“What lies?” This coming from the most cut-throat, backstabbing planner around.
“I lied to you the other day when I said Byron joined me at St. Matthew’s. He never showed up. I waited for him to help me with the processional but finally had to do it on my own. When I asked him what happened later, he gave me a weak excuse about the bride asking him to clean up the suite for her.”
Kate took another samosa. “I don’t know Byron well, but cleaning doesn’t sound like something he would do.”
“Exactly. He would never risk breaking a sweat,” Gail said. “He would have called housekeeping before he lifted a finger to clean the room.”
“But why lie? What reason did he have to stay behind?” I asked.
“I don’t know what happened,” Gail said. “But Byron had plenty of reason to want Carolyn dead.”
“Because he used to work for her?” Kate asked.
Gail shook her head. “Because Carolyn and Eleanor fired him.”
I looked at Kate. “Eleanor?”
Gail nodded. “Eleanor was also Byron’s boss. He blamed both of them for not making him a partner in the company. If there’s one thing Byron is good at, it’s holding a grudge.”
“I heard you still hold a grudge against Carolyn,” Kate said. “Surely holding a grudge doesn’t make someone a murderer, does it?”
Gail’s eye flashed with anger, but she kept her voice steady. “Whoever told you I held a grudge against Carolyn is trying to make me look bad. That was ancient history.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. “But what happened to Byron almost twenty years ago wasn’t?”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Gail said. “He may seem charming on the surface, but you don’t want to witness his temper.”
“It seems like lots of people around here act nice on the surface but have nasty tempers,” Kate said. “Maybe it’s a character trait of wedding planners in general.”
Gail reddened. “I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
“Why not tell the police?” I asked. “Why tell us instead?”
“The police won’t take me seriously since I have a history with Carolyn. The police seem to listen to you though.”
I stole a glance at the clock again. Almost nine o’clock. “What do you mean?”
Gail lowered her voice. “Everyone knows you’re trying to help out the cops by getting information on the victims.”
“That’s not true,” Kate said. “We’re doing it for ourselves, not the police.”
I shot Kate a look. “We’re not investigating anything, Gail.”
She didn’t look convinced. I wondered how many other people thought the same thing. As much as I wanted to stay and see what else Gail knew, I had to make it back to Georgetown to meet Reese. “Thanks for telling us about Byron. I have to run, but I’ll pass the information on to the police.”
I waved at Kate, who tried to protest through a mouthful of samosa, and I pushed open the swinging door. The door bumped into someone on the other side.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it.” Byron stood on the other side of the door smiling at me. His icy-blue eyes held mine. “No harm done, right?”
I swallowed hard. This was not good.
20
“Then you left?” Reese asked as he relaxed into my pale-yellow overstuffed couch. His olive-green sweater hugged the hard curves of his biceps and broad stretch of his shoulders. It also brought out the green in his eyes, but I had a hard time keeping my gaze from wandering to the rest of him.
The butterflies in my stomach had only gotten worse since he’d arrived minutes after I’d hopped out of my Uber and run the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I’d barely had enough time to spray some lemon furniture polish in the air so the place would smell clean and throw some cheese and crackers on a tray before he’d rung the doorbell.
I set two glasses of the merlot he’d brought on my glass coffee table and took a seat next to him on the couch. “I probably should have warned Gail that Byron had been standing on the other side of the door, but it would have looked suspicious if I went back into the kitchen.”
“Do you think he heard?”
“Maybe not,” I said hopefully. “He might have walked up to the door just as I was exiting it.”
“He didn’t say anything to you?”
I replayed the encounter with Byron in my head. “Not really, but the way he looked at me gave me the creeps.”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “Was he hitting on you?”
“No,” I said,” but he has these pale-blue eyes that remind me of ice.”
Reese’s expression got serious. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“Well, he’s a male wedding planner if that answers your question,” I said. “I think he’s a vicious gossip, but I can’t imagine him getting his hands dirty with murder. Any man who knows as many different napkin folds as he does isn’t the most testosterone-driven person around.”
“You never know about people.” Reese put his wine glass down on the table. “This is why I warned you not to go poking around in the case.”
“I was attending a party thrown by a photographer.” I took a gulp of merlot. “How could that be considered meddling?”
He let out a breath. “I don’t know how you do it, babe, but you could turn afternoon tea into a full-blown interrogation.”
I didn’t think he meant this as a compliment. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “That’s the only reason I don’t put you in protective custody right now.”
I felt my cheeks warm. If Kate was in my place, she would have used that as the perfect lead-in to drag him back to the bedroom. I, however, was not Kate, and it took more than that to turn me on. I took another swig of wine. Then why did my apartment suddenly feel so warm?
“Do you?”
I became aware that he’d asked me a question, but I had no clue what it was. “Do I what?”
“Do you believe what Gail told you about Byron?” He touched a hand to my forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a bit flushed.”
“I’m fine. The party was hot and stuffy, that’s all.” I thought about his question for a beat. “I’m not sure if I believe Gail. She seemed genuinely nervous to be telling us, but she could be a good actress.”
Reese took a sip of wine. “You said she had a motive to kill Carolyn too?”
“Pretty much the same as Byron. Carolyn fired her, but she claimed not to be upset about it anymore. The main difference between her and Byron is that he was fired by both victims, Carolyn and Eleanor.”
“So he had motive for both murders?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And according to Gail, he stayed behind at the hotel when Carolyn was killed, so he had opportunity.”
“That does sound incriminating. He may be more capable of murder than he seems.” Reese put his glass back on the coffee table. “I appreciate your insights, but I’m begging you to stay out of this and let me handle it.”
I chewed the edge of my lip as he wrapped his arms around me. Letting him handle things didn’t sound so bad. “I hope for Kate’s sake Byron didn’t hear anything.”
Reese shifted on the couch and pulled me closer to him. “She stayed at the party?”
I nodded. “I tried to call her on her cell to tell her about Byron possibly overhearing us, but she didn’t pick up. It’s probably so noisy she can’t hear the ring. I doubt she’ll stay long though. The party was mostly women.”
“Good,” Reese said as he leaned in and nuzzled my neck.
I closed my eyes. “That the party was mostly women or that Kate probably left?”
“Both,” he murmured. “I don’t have to worry about you so much if you’re at an all-female party.”
“Then you don’t know women,” I said, my eyes still closed. As he kissed his way up my neck and I felt myself relaxing, my cell phone began to ring.
“Ignore it,” I said, not moving a muscle. It continued to ring, then stopped and started again.
“Someone really wants to find you. Are you sure you don’t want to answer it?”
I sighed impatiently and reached for my purse on the floor. “If it’s a bride, I’m going to put itching powder in her crinolines.” I found the phone and saw Richard’s number on the caller ID. This had better be good. “Hi, Richard, what’s up?”
“Annabelle, where are you?” He sounded frantic, but what was new?
“Sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye, but I’m kind of busy right now. Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Don’t hang up! I have to talk to you.”
I cupped my hand over the mouthpiece. “I’m in the middle of something. Can’t this wait?”
“What do you mean you’re in the middle of something?” Richard’s near hysteria had morphed into suspicion. “At this time of night?”
There was a knock at the front door. Seriously? Reese stood up to get it.
“If it’s Leatrice, do not let her slip past you,” I warned him.
“Who are you talking to?” Richard’s voice dropped several octaves. “Is it Detective Reese?”
I drummed my fingers on the back of the couch even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “You have two seconds.”
Reese opened the door behind me, and I heard Leatrice’s voice sounding almost as hysterical as Richard’s. “I’m so relieved you’re here. You won’t believe what I heard on my police scanner.”
I turned to see my out-of-breath neighbor standing in the doorway behind Reese, with Sidney Allen at her side and Richard’s Yorkie, Hermes, tucked under her arm. “Your police scanner?”
“Is that nosy Nellie trying to steal my thunder?” Richard asked.
Leatrice leaned on the doorframe fanning her and Hermes with what looked like a program from one of my past weddings. “I rushed up here the second I heard.”
“She’s faster than she looks,” Sidney Allen said, swiping at his sweaty brow. It was strange to see the entertainment designer without his trademark headset, although he still wore a full suit. I suspected Sidney Allen slept in a navy blue suit and striped tie.
“Who’s voice is that?” Richard nearly shrieked. “What kind of crazy orgy are you having over there? You know Leatrice is supposed to be babysitting Hermes.”
Hermes yipped at the sound of Richard’s voice coming from my phone. I put a hand to my temple. The combination of a whipped-up Richard, a barking dog, and a neurotic Leatrice was giving me a headache. “I don’t know what either of you are babbling about.”
“She’s probably trying to tell you the same thing I am,” Richard said. “The killer struck again.”
21
“What do you mean there was a murder at Maxwell Gray’s party?” The cell phone slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor. “I just came from there.”
“I know.” Reese looked somber as he stared down at his own cell phone. “I have to go into the station. You might as well come with me. You were at the party, so I know I’m going to have to get a statement from you.”
“Why don’t I drive?” Leatrice suggested, taking my hand. “You’re too distraught to be on the road, dear.”
I slid my hand from hers. “I’m perfectly fine to drive.” I retrieved my phone from the floor and inspected it for cracks. Luckily, my heavy case with the Wedding Belles logo on the back had protected it, and the screen was unblemished. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching Hermes?”
“He loves a drive,” she said.
My eyes flitted to Sidney Allen. “And aren’t you on a date?”
Leatrice looked torn.
“We should probably take separate cars,” Reese said. “I’ll have to stay, and I don’t want you to be stuck at the station.”
“We could always pick you up,” Leatrice offered. I noticed that Sidney Allen didn’t look thrilled by the prospect. He had probably not expected his date to include dogsitting and late-night jaunts to the police station.
“I’m fine driving on my own,” I said as I scooped up my purse from the floor and my car keys from the bowl on the nearby bookshelf. “I doubt parking will be a problem at this time of night.”
“I’m sorry another of our dates got ruined,” Reese said as he slipped his phone into the pocket of his jeans.
“Why don’t we let these two have a moment alone?” Sidney Allen said to Leatrice who looked baffled at the suggestion but allowed herself to be led downstairs. Hermes gave a final yip and look backward as his tiny head bounced under Leatrice’s arm.
Reese reached over and interlocked his fingers with mine. “You know what would make things a lot easier?” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “If we came home to the same place.”
“True,” I said, feeling a familiar flutter of nerves. “But which place?”
I didn’t want to say it out loud, but there was no way I was moving into his bachelor pad. I might not be as big of a snob as Richard, but I didn’t think I could live with that much particle-board furniture.
I put a hand on Richard’s arm. “Take it easy. No one is conspiring against you.”
“The important thing is that you’re not overreacting,” Kate said.
Richard straightened his shoulders. “I never overreact. You know I hate dramatics.”
“Ten bucks he makes another waiter cry,” Kate whispered to Fern.
“Cry and run out wailing or just cry?” Fern asked her. “Those are different odds.”
Richard ignored them and took a deep breath. “The staff isn’t my only problem. Who are the high-maintenance girls who refuse to eat ‘cute animals?’ They made a huge scene when we passed duck quesadillas.”
“Where?” I asked. Considering the number of extremely young women at the party, it was a legitimate question.
Richard pointed to two women who seemed to be barely out of their teens hanging on Byron Wolfe. They both had blonde hair blown straight and looked bored with life. “Apparently they aren’t strict vegetarians, but they don’t eat any animal that used to frolic. Their words, not mine. Luckily, they don’t consider crabs or shrimp cute, so they wolfed down the crab wontons with blackberry sauce and the Hawaiian barbeque shrimp with papaya.”
I looked around for a waiter with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Where are those?”
“Are you sure they aren’t brides?” Kate said. “Sounds like bridal dementia to me.”
“They aren’t part of your assistant crew?” I asked Kate.
She shook her head. “Nope. Never seen them before.”
“Do you think they’d consider being waiters?” Richard asked. “You know I like my servers pretty.”
“Annabelle. Kate.” Gail Gordan appeared at my shoulder, but didn’t look directly at us when she spoke. She wore a black dress cut deep enough to show off a huge emerald pendant around her neck. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” I said. “What did you want to tell me about Byron?”
She gave a curt shake of her head. “Not here. Meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes.”
“She’s a little secretive, isn’t she?” Kate watched her walk away. “The dirt on Byron had better be worth it.”
“Gail is full of surprises.” I watched her pause in front of Maxwell and lean in close to talk with him. “She seems to know our host pretty well.”
Richard nudged us. “You have no idea.”
I watched as Gail pulled back from Maxwell and stalked off. “Is there anyone here who hasn’t been his victim?”
“Speaking of victims, what happened to Stephanie?” Kate looked around for the perky, young planner.
“Maybe she wised up,” I said and turned to Kate. “Let’s go meet Gail and get this over with.”
Fern grabbed us by the sleeves. “Promise you’ll come right back and tell us every word.”
“We promise,” I said. I led Kate through the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact with people. No time for chitchat. Luckily, Alexandra was so involved with the handsome, dark-haired photographer that she didn’t even notice us pass by. Most of the guests seemed pretty drunk, and more than a few people were getting cozy with each other. I knew this party would provide enough gossip for the wedding industry to thrive on for months.
I continued through the open-plan apartment, pushing through the metal swinging door leading to the kitchen. The countertops and appliances were gleaming stainless steel, and the cabinets were dark wood with metal knobs. The décor was minimalist and sleek without a hint of color. You could hardly get a more masculine kitchen without putting a grill or wide-screen TV in the center.
A few waiters scuttled around refilling white ceramic platters from the pair of tall metal warmers in the corner. I saw a black-lacquered tray of shot glasses filled with a milky-gray liquid and shuddered. Richard was right. Glass and mushroom soup did not mix.
“Where’s Gail?” Kate walked over to a platter of duck quesadillas and popped one in her mouth.
I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was past eight thirty. “I need to go in a few minutes. I have a date.”
Kate dropped a quesadilla on the black tile floor. “You have a date after this?” She put her hands on her hips. “What I am supposed to tell Richard? He’s going to be hysterical.”
Before Kate could interrogate me, the swinging door hit me on the back and sent me forward a few steps.
“Hi, Gail.” Kate looked up from scraping the quesadilla off the floor.
Gail stepped into the kitchen. “Sorry about that.” She didn’t seem too broken up. “I have to talk fast. I saw Byron moving this way.”
I rubbed my back where the door had smacked me. “What’s so important we have to meet in secret?”
Kate dropped the quesadilla in the trash and took a golden puffed samosa off a nearby platter. “And I thought you and Byron were friends.”
Gail’s cheeks reddened. “We were, I mean, we are. But I can’t keep his secrets anymore. The lies are eating me up inside.”
“What lies?” This coming from the most cut-throat, backstabbing planner around.
“I lied to you the other day when I said Byron joined me at St. Matthew’s. He never showed up. I waited for him to help me with the processional but finally had to do it on my own. When I asked him what happened later, he gave me a weak excuse about the bride asking him to clean up the suite for her.”
Kate took another samosa. “I don’t know Byron well, but cleaning doesn’t sound like something he would do.”
“Exactly. He would never risk breaking a sweat,” Gail said. “He would have called housekeeping before he lifted a finger to clean the room.”
“But why lie? What reason did he have to stay behind?” I asked.
“I don’t know what happened,” Gail said. “But Byron had plenty of reason to want Carolyn dead.”
“Because he used to work for her?” Kate asked.
Gail shook her head. “Because Carolyn and Eleanor fired him.”
I looked at Kate. “Eleanor?”
Gail nodded. “Eleanor was also Byron’s boss. He blamed both of them for not making him a partner in the company. If there’s one thing Byron is good at, it’s holding a grudge.”
“I heard you still hold a grudge against Carolyn,” Kate said. “Surely holding a grudge doesn’t make someone a murderer, does it?”
Gail’s eye flashed with anger, but she kept her voice steady. “Whoever told you I held a grudge against Carolyn is trying to make me look bad. That was ancient history.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. “But what happened to Byron almost twenty years ago wasn’t?”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Gail said. “He may seem charming on the surface, but you don’t want to witness his temper.”
“It seems like lots of people around here act nice on the surface but have nasty tempers,” Kate said. “Maybe it’s a character trait of wedding planners in general.”
Gail reddened. “I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
“Why not tell the police?” I asked. “Why tell us instead?”
“The police won’t take me seriously since I have a history with Carolyn. The police seem to listen to you though.”
I stole a glance at the clock again. Almost nine o’clock. “What do you mean?”
Gail lowered her voice. “Everyone knows you’re trying to help out the cops by getting information on the victims.”
“That’s not true,” Kate said. “We’re doing it for ourselves, not the police.”
I shot Kate a look. “We’re not investigating anything, Gail.”
She didn’t look convinced. I wondered how many other people thought the same thing. As much as I wanted to stay and see what else Gail knew, I had to make it back to Georgetown to meet Reese. “Thanks for telling us about Byron. I have to run, but I’ll pass the information on to the police.”
I waved at Kate, who tried to protest through a mouthful of samosa, and I pushed open the swinging door. The door bumped into someone on the other side.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it.” Byron stood on the other side of the door smiling at me. His icy-blue eyes held mine. “No harm done, right?”
I swallowed hard. This was not good.
20
“Then you left?” Reese asked as he relaxed into my pale-yellow overstuffed couch. His olive-green sweater hugged the hard curves of his biceps and broad stretch of his shoulders. It also brought out the green in his eyes, but I had a hard time keeping my gaze from wandering to the rest of him.
The butterflies in my stomach had only gotten worse since he’d arrived minutes after I’d hopped out of my Uber and run the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I’d barely had enough time to spray some lemon furniture polish in the air so the place would smell clean and throw some cheese and crackers on a tray before he’d rung the doorbell.
I set two glasses of the merlot he’d brought on my glass coffee table and took a seat next to him on the couch. “I probably should have warned Gail that Byron had been standing on the other side of the door, but it would have looked suspicious if I went back into the kitchen.”
“Do you think he heard?”
“Maybe not,” I said hopefully. “He might have walked up to the door just as I was exiting it.”
“He didn’t say anything to you?”
I replayed the encounter with Byron in my head. “Not really, but the way he looked at me gave me the creeps.”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “Was he hitting on you?”
“No,” I said,” but he has these pale-blue eyes that remind me of ice.”
Reese’s expression got serious. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“Well, he’s a male wedding planner if that answers your question,” I said. “I think he’s a vicious gossip, but I can’t imagine him getting his hands dirty with murder. Any man who knows as many different napkin folds as he does isn’t the most testosterone-driven person around.”
“You never know about people.” Reese put his wine glass down on the table. “This is why I warned you not to go poking around in the case.”
“I was attending a party thrown by a photographer.” I took a gulp of merlot. “How could that be considered meddling?”
He let out a breath. “I don’t know how you do it, babe, but you could turn afternoon tea into a full-blown interrogation.”
I didn’t think he meant this as a compliment. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “That’s the only reason I don’t put you in protective custody right now.”
I felt my cheeks warm. If Kate was in my place, she would have used that as the perfect lead-in to drag him back to the bedroom. I, however, was not Kate, and it took more than that to turn me on. I took another swig of wine. Then why did my apartment suddenly feel so warm?
“Do you?”
I became aware that he’d asked me a question, but I had no clue what it was. “Do I what?”
“Do you believe what Gail told you about Byron?” He touched a hand to my forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a bit flushed.”
“I’m fine. The party was hot and stuffy, that’s all.” I thought about his question for a beat. “I’m not sure if I believe Gail. She seemed genuinely nervous to be telling us, but she could be a good actress.”
Reese took a sip of wine. “You said she had a motive to kill Carolyn too?”
“Pretty much the same as Byron. Carolyn fired her, but she claimed not to be upset about it anymore. The main difference between her and Byron is that he was fired by both victims, Carolyn and Eleanor.”
“So he had motive for both murders?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And according to Gail, he stayed behind at the hotel when Carolyn was killed, so he had opportunity.”
“That does sound incriminating. He may be more capable of murder than he seems.” Reese put his glass back on the coffee table. “I appreciate your insights, but I’m begging you to stay out of this and let me handle it.”
I chewed the edge of my lip as he wrapped his arms around me. Letting him handle things didn’t sound so bad. “I hope for Kate’s sake Byron didn’t hear anything.”
Reese shifted on the couch and pulled me closer to him. “She stayed at the party?”
I nodded. “I tried to call her on her cell to tell her about Byron possibly overhearing us, but she didn’t pick up. It’s probably so noisy she can’t hear the ring. I doubt she’ll stay long though. The party was mostly women.”
“Good,” Reese said as he leaned in and nuzzled my neck.
I closed my eyes. “That the party was mostly women or that Kate probably left?”
“Both,” he murmured. “I don’t have to worry about you so much if you’re at an all-female party.”
“Then you don’t know women,” I said, my eyes still closed. As he kissed his way up my neck and I felt myself relaxing, my cell phone began to ring.
“Ignore it,” I said, not moving a muscle. It continued to ring, then stopped and started again.
“Someone really wants to find you. Are you sure you don’t want to answer it?”
I sighed impatiently and reached for my purse on the floor. “If it’s a bride, I’m going to put itching powder in her crinolines.” I found the phone and saw Richard’s number on the caller ID. This had better be good. “Hi, Richard, what’s up?”
“Annabelle, where are you?” He sounded frantic, but what was new?
“Sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye, but I’m kind of busy right now. Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Don’t hang up! I have to talk to you.”
I cupped my hand over the mouthpiece. “I’m in the middle of something. Can’t this wait?”
“What do you mean you’re in the middle of something?” Richard’s near hysteria had morphed into suspicion. “At this time of night?”
There was a knock at the front door. Seriously? Reese stood up to get it.
“If it’s Leatrice, do not let her slip past you,” I warned him.
“Who are you talking to?” Richard’s voice dropped several octaves. “Is it Detective Reese?”
I drummed my fingers on the back of the couch even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “You have two seconds.”
Reese opened the door behind me, and I heard Leatrice’s voice sounding almost as hysterical as Richard’s. “I’m so relieved you’re here. You won’t believe what I heard on my police scanner.”
I turned to see my out-of-breath neighbor standing in the doorway behind Reese, with Sidney Allen at her side and Richard’s Yorkie, Hermes, tucked under her arm. “Your police scanner?”
“Is that nosy Nellie trying to steal my thunder?” Richard asked.
Leatrice leaned on the doorframe fanning her and Hermes with what looked like a program from one of my past weddings. “I rushed up here the second I heard.”
“She’s faster than she looks,” Sidney Allen said, swiping at his sweaty brow. It was strange to see the entertainment designer without his trademark headset, although he still wore a full suit. I suspected Sidney Allen slept in a navy blue suit and striped tie.
“Who’s voice is that?” Richard nearly shrieked. “What kind of crazy orgy are you having over there? You know Leatrice is supposed to be babysitting Hermes.”
Hermes yipped at the sound of Richard’s voice coming from my phone. I put a hand to my temple. The combination of a whipped-up Richard, a barking dog, and a neurotic Leatrice was giving me a headache. “I don’t know what either of you are babbling about.”
“She’s probably trying to tell you the same thing I am,” Richard said. “The killer struck again.”
21
“What do you mean there was a murder at Maxwell Gray’s party?” The cell phone slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor. “I just came from there.”
“I know.” Reese looked somber as he stared down at his own cell phone. “I have to go into the station. You might as well come with me. You were at the party, so I know I’m going to have to get a statement from you.”
“Why don’t I drive?” Leatrice suggested, taking my hand. “You’re too distraught to be on the road, dear.”
I slid my hand from hers. “I’m perfectly fine to drive.” I retrieved my phone from the floor and inspected it for cracks. Luckily, my heavy case with the Wedding Belles logo on the back had protected it, and the screen was unblemished. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching Hermes?”
“He loves a drive,” she said.
My eyes flitted to Sidney Allen. “And aren’t you on a date?”
Leatrice looked torn.
“We should probably take separate cars,” Reese said. “I’ll have to stay, and I don’t want you to be stuck at the station.”
“We could always pick you up,” Leatrice offered. I noticed that Sidney Allen didn’t look thrilled by the prospect. He had probably not expected his date to include dogsitting and late-night jaunts to the police station.
“I’m fine driving on my own,” I said as I scooped up my purse from the floor and my car keys from the bowl on the nearby bookshelf. “I doubt parking will be a problem at this time of night.”
“I’m sorry another of our dates got ruined,” Reese said as he slipped his phone into the pocket of his jeans.
“Why don’t we let these two have a moment alone?” Sidney Allen said to Leatrice who looked baffled at the suggestion but allowed herself to be led downstairs. Hermes gave a final yip and look backward as his tiny head bounced under Leatrice’s arm.
Reese reached over and interlocked his fingers with mine. “You know what would make things a lot easier?” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “If we came home to the same place.”
“True,” I said, feeling a familiar flutter of nerves. “But which place?”
I didn’t want to say it out loud, but there was no way I was moving into his bachelor pad. I might not be as big of a snob as Richard, but I didn’t think I could live with that much particle-board furniture.
