Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 171
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
I elbowed them. “Get it together, you two. We can’t go in there giggling.”
“You won’t be laughing once you see the casket.” Fern went into the room and motioned for us to follow.
He’d vanished into the sea of people by the time Kate and Richard had stopped giggling and we’d stepped into the viewing room. I could spot the bright-white-and-gold casket gleaming against the far wall surrounded by sprays of flowers and wreaths on stands. I recognized some of the wedding industry regulars like Maxwell holding court with his usual gaggle of young women, but also a lot of unfamiliar faces. They must have been friends and family, but I had a hard time imagining Carolyn with a life outside of wedding planning.
“Why don’t we split up?” I said to Kate and Richard. “That way we can talk to more people.”
“I’m going to get a better look at that casket.” Richard set off across the room before I could stop him.
“I’ll go talk to Byron,” Kate tugged the neckline of her sweater dress down. “He may be known for flirting, but two can play at that game.”
Byron Wolfe might be the biggest kiss-up in the business, but no one could flirt more shamelessly than Kate. If anyone could charm information out of him, she could.
I took a moment to scan the crowd. Gail and Boob Job Bambie seemed deep in conversation and kept glancing over at Byron. Gail seemed more than a little jittery, and Bambie seemed more than a little drunk. Did the funeral home have a bar?
“Good turnout, huh?”
I jumped at the sound of the voice behind me. I turned to find my videographer friend Joni with a camera in her hand. She wore black from head to toe, which was her usual work uniform at events and also good funeral attire.
“You’re videotaping the viewing?” I asked.
“Oh, sure.” She brushed her sandy blond hair off her face. “People have me video all sorts of things. Usually they want to remember the eulogies, but I’ve had requests to tape viewings before.”
I shuddered. “Do you film the casket?”
“No way. I draw the line at dead bodies. I think I saw Maxwell Gray getting some shots of the flowers earlier though.”
Only an event planner would have both a professional photographer and videographer at their viewing.
“So which is better?” I lowered my voice. “Working a wedding or a funeral?”
“No question. A funeral. Dead people are much less demanding than brides.”
“Maybe I’m in the wrong business. Is there such a thing as a funeral planner?”
Joni laughed and raised her camera. “I’d better get back to work. Carolyn’s husband is looking over here. But find me later. I’ve got some great dirt for you.”
I looked around for someone who could be Carolyn’s husband. “Which one is he?” I asked, but Joni had already moved out of earshot. I reminded myself to call her later. She always had good industry gossip.
I scanned the crowd for anyone else I might know. Lucille stood by herself a few feet away and gave me a tiny wave, then blew her nose into a tissue. I couldn’t imagine Lucille having the nerve to kill anyone, but it couldn’t hurt to talk to her considering she’d worked with two of the victims. I walked over and gave her a hug.
“It’s so good of you to come.” She dabbed at her puffy eyes. “You and Kate have been so good to us since Carolyn’s death.”
“It’s the least we can do. Is Margery here too?” Usually the women were inseparable.
Lucille bobbed her head up and down and blew her nose again. “She’s mingling.” She dropped her eyes to the floor. “I think she’s asking the other planners if they have any openings. Would you happen to need two experienced assistants?”
My heart went out to her. How awful to be hunting for a job at the point in your life when you should be thinking about retiring on a sunny island. “We’re a pretty small company,” I explained. “Wedding Belles is a two-person operation.”
“I understand,” Lucille said quickly. “Margery told me to save my money like she did, but I wasn’t able to give her as much to invest as I should have. I love to spoil my grandchildren. You know I have twelve.”
I had no idea, and I felt a twinge of guilt that I knew so little about my colleagues. I touched her arm. “If we decide to expand, you’ll be the first people we call.”
Tears began to course down Lucille’s cheeks. “I’m sorry to be such a wreck. It’s been a lot to take in. First Carolyn, then Eleanor, and that poor little Stephanie. Plus, after almost twenty years of service, Mr. Crabbe decides to sell the business and gives us notice that we need to find new jobs.”
I put an arm around her shoulder. I really couldn’t imagine what a horrible week she’d had. “Is Carolyn’s husband here?”
Lucille nodded through her tears and pointed at a short, balding man next to the door.
I squinted at him and the woman in a brown jacket next to him. “The one talking with Margery?”
“I hope she’s giving him a piece of her mind.” Lucille sniffled and wiped her nose with a ragged tissue. “We should have gotten a paycheck this week, and he hasn’t paid us yet. He’s so stingy, I won’t be surprised if he tries to get away with not paying us at all.”
“Why don’t I get you some more tissues?”
Lucille looked absently at the soggy one in her hand. “That would be nice, dear.”
As I left Lucille, I noticed Kate had cornered Byron and seemed to be either interrogating him or setting a date. Richard was nowhere to be seen, and I hoped he was talking to people and not just gawking at the gaudy casket. I feared the combination of white lacquer and gold trim might send him over the edge.
As I passed Margery and Mr. Crabbe, it sounded like Margery was giving him more than a piece of her mind, but Carolyn’s husband seemed unmoved by her hissed threats about lawyers and payments. I guess employee happiness was no longer his concern. I headed back out to the hall to get Lucille some tissues since I remembered seeing a sign for a ladies’ room when we’d come in. I passed a couple of closed doors, then one standing ajar.
I had a morbid curiosity to see inside the other rooms. Did they have caskets in them already? I pushed the door open and poked my head in the dark room. The light from the hallway spilled inside, but I still couldn’t make out much. I stepped in and felt along the wall for a light switch, and the door swung shut, leaving me in darkness. Great. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Richard would never let me hear the end of it if I got trapped inside a viewing room with a dead body.
I felt my way back to the entrance and had just reached it when the door opened and light poured into the room, blinding me for a second. I blinked a few times and saw a silhouette of a person before feeling a thud on my head. I instinctively raised my hand, and everything went black.
26
“Someone call an ambulance!” The shrieks of a woman’s voice pulled me from what felt like a deep sleep.
I tried to open my eyes, but the light made my head pound even worse. I moaned.
“One of them is alive. Hurry!”
Was she talking about me? Wait a second. Them? I forced my eyes open and found myself staring at a white stucco ceiling. I rolled my head to one side and saw a mahogany casket at the far end of the room. This must be the viewing room I’d been poking around in right before someone knocked me out. I rubbed my temple and rolled to the other side. My blood went cold.
Only a few inches away from me lay Margery with a red gash across her forehead. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled to the side. I felt like I was going to be sick. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I could hear people starting to gather around me.
“Coming through, people.” Fern’s voice was unmistakable. “I’m a hairdresser. I’m used to trauma.”
I opened my eyes and pushed myself onto my elbows as Fern kneeled down next to me. “How bad is it?” I touched the tender spot high on my forehead.
“I’m not going to lie to you, sweetie.” Fern inspected the bump at my hairline. “It’s not pretty. The good news is you’ve had worse makeup days.”
“Thanks.” I sat all the way up and leaned against him. People began to cluster around Margery, who didn’t seem to be moving. “Can we go somewhere else and sit down?”
“You’re right.” Fern put an arm around me and hoisted me up. “There are too many stiffs in this room.”
We walked gingerly out to the lobby, and I sank into a blue wingback chair.
“How long was I out?”
“It couldn’t have been very long,” Fern said. “You only got here twenty minutes ago. Lucky for me I happened to come out into the hall right after Bambie screamed.”
“Boob Job Bambie found me?” So that was the high-pitched shrieking I’d heard. The woman had some lungs on her.
“She said she was on her way to the ladies’ room when she saw the door standing open and your feet sticking out.”
“There you are.” Richard rushed up to us with Kate close on his heels. “The next time you wander off, try not to get attacked. I just heard and lost a year off my life running down the hall.”
Kate pressed a hand to her mouth. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I think,” I said. “It probably looks worse than it is.”
Richard looked at my head. “I certainly hope so.”
“What happened?” Kate took a seat in a matching wingback chair next to me.
“I was headed to the ladies’ room to get more tissues for Lucille, and I saw an open viewing room with the lights out.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “And you took that as an invitation to go inside? Have you never seen a horror movie, Annabelle?”
“I was curious to see if they keep bodies in all of these rooms. Otherwise where would they keep all the caskets before the services?”
Fern glanced around him. “Do you really think there are corpses in all of these rooms?”
Richard tapped his foot on the carpet. “Go on.”
“I was looking for the light switch when the door slammed shut on me.”
“What a surprise,” Richard said.
“Do you want me to continue?” I asked.
Richard pursed his lips. I could tell he was torn between the desire to give me a proper scolding and the desire to hear my story. “By all means.”
“I was about to leave when the door opened, and I was hit on the head by something hard.” My hand instinctively went to the tender spot.
Fern gasped. “Someone was in the room with you?”
“I don’t know. All I remember was the outline of a person in the doorway. I got blinded for a moment so I didn’t see who it was. I have no idea if that was who attacked me or not.”
“A bust,” Fern said.
“Excuse me?”
“One of those horrific marble busts was on the floor between you and Margery. That’s what you were hit with. Your feet were sticking outside the room, but Margery lay inside next to the bust,” Fern said. “It looks like Margery saw your feet and came in the room, then got attacked as well.”
“So whoever hit me must have still been inside the room when Margery came in,” I said. “Do you know if she’s okay?”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Kate said.
I leaned forward. “More people were attacked than me and Margery?”
“Not really,” Richard said. “When Lucille saw Margery, she fainted and hit the ground pretty hard.”
“Poor Lucille,” I said. “I don’t know how much more she can take.”
Fern pulled out his handkerchief. “I don’t know how much more any of us can take. This week has been a wedding planner bloodbath.”
“This is getting too dangerous for my taste,” Kate said. “Next time you might not be so lucky, Annie.”
I bit the edge of my lip. “But we’re getting so close to the killer. I can feel it.”
“That’s your head you’re feeling, honey.” Fern patted my arm.
Bambie rushed up with a bottle of water in each hand and handed one to me. “I’m on my way to Lucille. You’re looking a ton better, hon.”
“Thanks,” I said. For a woman known mostly for her accumulation of plastic surgeries and husbands, she’d proven herself to be useful today. “I’m glad you found us when you did.”
She squeezed my arm. “Don’t mention it. I’m glad you’re not dead. I wasn’t so sure when I found you.”
When she hurried off down the hall, Richard poked me. “See? She thought you were dead. You can’t honestly plan on continuing to hunt for the killer after this.”
“I’m not hunting for them.” I lowered my voice as a few people passed by, casting furtive glances in my direction. “I’m gathering information.”
“What if the killer knows about your little information-gathering project and tried to get rid of you so you won’t get any closer to finding them?” Richard asked. “Did you think of that?”
I clutched the cold bottle of water with beads of condensation trickling down the side and didn’t answer. Even though the Muzak piped through the funeral home was soft, the combination of the instrumental smooth jazz and the rising and falling of voices began to make the bump on my head throb.
“You don’t think this was another random wedding planner murder?” Kate said. “You think the killer targeted Annabelle because she knows too much?”
“Someone had to watch her go in the viewing room and then follow her with the marble bust,” Richard said. “I don’t think any of these murders are random. Especially not this one.”
“Meaning the killer probably knows we were all poking around for information,” Kate said, looking a bit green. “They could come after any of us next.”
“Lots of people knew we were asking questions about the murders,” I admitted. “Remember that both Bambie and Gail mentioned hearing about it?”
“Must you run around advertising what you’re doing all the time?” Richard asked me. “Is your investigation really worth one of our lives?”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but tears pricked the back of my eyes. Richard was right. I couldn’t risk my life or anyone else’s looking for the killer. I would never forgive myself if something happened to one of my friends.
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracked. “I never thought I was putting us in danger.”
“That’s okay, sweetie.” Fern squeezed my hand. “No harm done.” His eyes darted to my head. “Well, almost no harm.”
Richard fixed me with a serious look. “Will you promise to leave the detective work to the detectives from now on?”
I held up my hand, palm out. “I give you my word.”
“What a relief,” Richard said. “I thought you were going to put up a big fight.”
A nagging voice in the back of my head told me I already had all the information I needed to find the killer. Putting the pieces together could hardly be called detective work, I reasoned with myself. What harm could come from thinking about the case?
I shook my head. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m hanging up my detective hat for good.” Not really a lie, I thought. More like an omission.
27
“I’m calling to get the scoop,” I said, sinking down onto my couch holding the phone to my ear with one hand and an ice pack to my head with the other. I’d convinced Kate and Richard that I was fine by myself and had scooted them out the door so I could do some armchair investigating in peace.
Richard had insisted on leaving me with sustenance, so he’d managed to whip up a Monte Cristo sandwich (or, he told me, as close to a version of it as he could with only the meager contents of my kitchen). The sandwich sat on the coffee table in front of me, and my apartment still held the lingering aroma of melted cheddar cheese and toasted bread.
Kate had insisted on taking all the welcome bags for the Winchester wedding with her since I was in no state to drive them around to the guest hotels. I’d heard Richard grumbling all the way down the stairwell about having to carry armloads of the brown-and-pink bags filled to the brim with Texas-themed goodies. It was better than hearing him complain about me meddling in the murder investigation.
I knew Richard was right, of course. I would never forgive myself if something happened to one of my friends because the killer thought we were poking around too close. But I could also never live with myself if more people died or got attacked, and I could do something to stop it. I just had to keep a low profile from now on. Catching up on industry gossip with Joni was the best way I could think of to find out everything that was going on without leaving my couch.
“Annabelle?” Joni sounded surprised. “I thought they took you to the hospital along with Margery and Lucille.”
“No. I’m fine.” I put down the ice pack and picked up the can of Diet Dr Pepper. “A paramedic took a look at me but let me come home to rest.”
“Do you need someone to check on you?”
I took a drink of soda. “Fern promised to stop by after he goes to Eleanor’s memorial service this afternoon.”
Joni sighed. “I’m glad I don’t have to video that one too. One a day is plenty for me. Was Fern close to Eleanor?”
“No, he loves the drama.” I switched out the soda for the ice pack, touching it to the tender bump near my hairline. “He would have been a great professional mourner. He can cry at the drop of a hat.”
“That may come in handy. Eleanor didn’t have any family that I’ve ever heard of, and she drove everyone she worked with crazy.”
“She drove you nuts too?” I rearranged myself on the couch. “I thought it was only other wedding planners she annoyed.”
“Imagine hearing you’re going to be doing a million-dollar wedding for a major celebrity and then getting to the job and finding out the celebrity is the weather guy for Channel 7.”
I cringed. “That’s bad.”
“No kidding. And if that wedding cost a million dollars, then I’m Steven Spielberg.”
I laughed then felt guilty about making fun of Eleanor. After all, she had been murdered. I held my hand above the Monte Cristo, but it was still steaming, and I didn’t relish burning my mouth with melted cheese.
