Death on the Aisle, page 19
Chapter 41
“No one knows where the papers are, though, do they?” I asked Mandy. Even though Leatrice drove me crazy, I couldn’t stand the thought of her in danger.
“Not unless they followed me when I delivered them.”
That was only slightly reassuring. I listened, but the only sound was the unrelenting rainfall on the fiberglass hull, made even louder in the enclosed stairwell. That meant the ceremony was taking place, but the recessional hadn’t started yet. I took Mandy’s hand. “If you’re going to get off the ship, you should do it now while everyone is occupied at the ceremony. Once the security team finds the body, no one will be able to leave.”
She nodded and reached to push open the hidden doorway. “I’ll slip out through the back stairs and send you a message once I’m safe. Or if I think of anything that could help you find the killer.”
I peered down the staircase that wound narrowly down into the lower levels of the ship. “Where did you say this leads?”
“There’s a secret exit on each floor. First, the master suite—”
I stopped her. “That’s perfect. The Barberys won’t be there since they’re at the ceremony. It should be deserted.”
We exchanged a quick hug, then Mandy slipped through the hinged panel of books and I started down the twisting staircase. I wanted to make sure the security team was far away from the steam room.
I reached another narrow landing with a door. I pushed it just enough to open a crack. I could see I’d reached the master suite, and the room seemed empty and silent. I pushed the door far enough so I could slip out and I pulled the door closed behind me. In this room the secret door was part of a shelving unit to the side of the king-sized bed. To the left of the bed was a doorway leading into a sprawling closet, and beyond that a short set of curved stairs that led up to a large Jacuzzi tub. I couldn’t help gaping. The master suite took up as much space as all the rest of the bedrooms put together.
I’d never ventured inside the room because Mrs. Barbery was usually holed up inside with Jeremy Johns. Now I understood why the stepmother spent all her time here. It was stunning. Cream silk covered the walls and the bed. A modern painting of deep blue waves hung over the bed along with a crystal chandelier. Glass walls took up the entire front of the room and looked out over the bow of the ship. I imagined the view was incredible when the ship was at sea. Right now all I could see were gray skies and sheets of rain.
I sat down on the bed and pulled out my phone. With Mrs. Barbery and everyone else upstairs at the ceremony, this was probably the best time and place to make an urgent call.
“Leatrice?” I said when she answered the phone.
“Annabelle?” She wasn’t used to me calling her, and the connection wasn’t the best because of the storm. “Isn’t the wedding today?”
“I’m at the wedding,” I said. “Do you remember the envelope you gave me? The one Mandy dropped off?”
“Yes, dear.” She said, her voice going in and out. “I almost forgot. Such . . . nice girl. Is . . . important?” Leatrice asked. “I can bring . . . to you.”
“No!” I said. The last thing I needed to add to the mix was Leatrice. “It’s fine. People are looking for that envelope. Can you just make sure no one goes in my apartment?”
The phone cut out. At least I knew the potential evidence was safe and sound in Georgetown. Well, as safe as anything could be with Leatrice watching over it. I dropped the phone into my pocket and tiptoed over to the door, peeking my head outside. The hallway was empty, so I darted out and closed the door silently. I hurried to the staircase at the end of the hall and wound my way down to the level below.
“Annabelle! There you are!” Fern’s voice made me skid down the last two stairs, and I clutched the handrail to keep from falling.
I stared at him. “What are you wearing?” He appeared to have on nothing but a large beige towel wrapped around his chest with a matching towel wrapped around his head as a turban.
“I’m a diversion.”
“You certainly are,” I said.
“You told me to keep the security team away from the steam room. That’s what I’m doing. If anyone comes down, I’ll say I’m about to take a steam.”
“In the middle of a wedding?” I asked. “Doesn’t that strike you as an odd thing to do?”
Fern waved a hand and giggled. “Like a slecurity officer would know.”
I wondered just how much Champagne Fern had ingested to make him think running around a wedding in a towel was a good idea.
“But you’ll be happy to know Kristie and all her hussy bridesmaids got down the aisle.”
“Were any of them sober?” I asked.
Fern shrugged.
I glanced at my watch. “We probably only have ten minutes before the ceremony ends. That means we only have to keep the murder secret for about another hour at most.”
Fern readjusted his towel turban and hiccuped. “Easy pleasy.”
Chapter 42
“There you are,” I said as I dashed into the kitchen tent where Richard stood garnishing a platter of hors d’oeuvres with fresh flowers. I wiped the water off my face as I breathed in the savory smell of rosemary filling the small space. I noticed a second tray of lamb skewers threaded with fresh sprigs of the herb and wondered if I could distract Richard and steal a few. The gummy bears were not filling.
Richard looked up at me and the clear plastic shower cap he wore slipped down on his forehead. “There I am? Where have you been? The ceremony ended twenty minutes ago.”
I tried to ignore the shower cap and the obvious question of where he got it. “I’ve been busy.”
Richard tapped his foot. “Well, while you’ve been gallivanting around, I’ve been slaving away out here on the docks.”
I doubted if anyone had ever claimed to be “slaving away on the docks” while wearing a designer suit. I looked at the metal framework holding the tent together, the bars rattling as the wind shook them, and I couldn’t help but notice the walls of the tent groaning as the rain pummeled them. I said a quick prayer the tent would not be lifted up and blown away, taking Richard and several hundred hors d’oeuvres with it.
“I haven’t been gallivanting around,” I said. “I’ve been trying to do some damage control. And figure out what’s going on.”
“What’s going on is these guests are eating and drinking like they were just rescued from a desert island.” He snapped a white rose head from a long stem and placed it at the top of a tray of mini lobster rolls. “If they keep up this pace, I don’t know if I have enough food to last all night.”
“It won’t have to last all night,” I said. “Just until the police discover the second dead body and shut us down.”
“I thought the plan was to tell the security team once my cocktail party was over.” Richard looked at his watch. “It’s almost time for the first dance.”
I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. Since our plan was going so well, I hoped I could buy a little more time to try to figure things out.”
“Going so well?” Richard’s eyes widened and he snatched up a rose. “Which part of this night seems to be going well to you?” He ripped a bruised petal off the bloom. “The monsoon?” Rip. “The dead body?” Rip, rip. “The fact that some of us may be going to jail for obstruction of justice?” Rip, rip, rip. The rose fell apart and he threw the petals to the ground.
“Well, obviously not those things.”
Richard pointed to his head. “For heaven’s sake, Annabelle, I’ve resorted to wearing a shower cap. A shower cap! Me!” His voice cracked. “It’s almost too much to bear.”
I tried not to stare at the thin, crinkled plastic covering his hair and put a hand over my mouth to stifle my urge to giggle. “Where on earth did you even get a shower cap?”
He pointed to his head and I noticed faint lettering on the plastic.
“Does it say Mystic Maven on your head?” I asked.
Richard nodded. “I found them in the gym bathroom. You have to hand it to them. These people know how to brand.”
Why was I surprised the ship had its own imprinted shower caps?
“If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll deny it until my last dying breath.” Richard shook a finger at me. “And if those TV cameras come anywhere near this tent and film me like this, they’ll regret it.”
“Your secret is safe with me. I, for one, do not have a death wish.”
Richard bobbled his head at me. “You don’t seem to have a problem running around a ship with a killer on board. Sounds like a death wish to me.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll find Daniel Reese and tell him everything. Up until the part about us not telling him for the past hour so we could go ahead with the ceremony. I might leave that part out.”
“Good thinking. And, if asked, I was here in the kitchen tent the entire night.”
“Stay here then. I’ll come get you once I’ve spilled the beans.” I shot a look at his head. “It’s not like you want anyone to see you in this state anyway.”
He leveled a finger at me. “Don’t even dream of posting a photo. And if I end up in a ‘snap’ or a ‘chat’ or a ‘story’ . . . ” He made air quotes. “Heads will roll.”
“Believe me, a monsoon does not Instagram well.”
I pulled back the flap of the tent. The rain had changed to steady, fat drops bouncing off the waterlogged sheets of plywood covering the dock. I eyed the metal ramp a few feet away and, just as I was about to make a dash for it, noticed a small figure in a bright yellow rain coat and rain hat disappearing through the ship’s glass door at the top of the ramp.
I blinked and then blinked again. The only person I knew with an ensemble like that was Leatrice, but I had specifically told her to stay away.
And, of course, I knew she wouldn’t listen to me. I steeled myself for the rain then hurried up the ramp to the boat, pushing open the glass door and preparing to give Leatrice a thorough scolding.
The room was empty aside from trays of Champagne glasses and used hors d’oeuvre trays stacked to go back down to the kitchen tent. She must be nearby, I told myself as I shook the rain off my clothes. I peeked into the main salon. It was still packed with guests, and there wasn’t a bright yellow rain jacket in sight. I made for the galley kitchen where Richard’s headwaiter was opening a bottle of Champagne.
“Jim!” I clutched the tall man’s arm. “Have you seen a little old lady in a yellow rain coat?”
He jerked his head toward the door on the other side of the galley. “She went that way looking for you. Do you want me to go after her?”
“No, I’ve got it. You just keep the guests drunk so they won’t notice when the police arrive.”
Jim stared at me, his mouth falling open a bit, but I left before he could do anything more than look confused. The door from the galley led to a back spiral staircase. I paused for a moment then decided to go down. I wound down the stairs, holding tightly on the rail so I wouldn’t slide all the way down, and paused when I reached the next floor. Down the hallway I could see Fern still wearing his fluffy beige towel ensemble. Leatrice stood next to him.
“Aha,” I said, striding down the hall.
Leatrice turned and beamed at me from under her oversized yellow rain hat. “I’ve been looking for you, dear.”
“That’s my line,” I said. “And what are you doing here? I told you not to come down.”
“You did?” Leatrice looked confused. “I didn’t hear you say that. But, then, we did have a bad connection.” She looked at Fern. “If I’d known this was a toga party, I would have dressed accordingly.”
“This isn’t a toga party,” I said. “Fern’s being a distraction.”
“Isn’t he always?”
Fern batted his eyelashes at me and shifted the towel on his head so it wasn’t so crooked. Leatrice had a point.
I grabbed Leatrice’s arm. “I need to get you off the ship. It isn’t safe here.”
“But I brought you this.” She held up a manila envelope. “The envelope you asked me about over the phone. The one I delivered to you the other day.”
I gave her a pointed look. “The one in my apartment?” Not that I was the least bit shocked Leatrice had let herself into my apartment.
She patted my hand. “Yes, dear. You’re welcome.”
I took the envelope from her. “You still can’t be here. Things are about to get unpleasant, and I don’t want you caught in the middle of it.”
Leatrice’s face brightened as she looked past me down the hall. “You look familiar.”
Chapter 43
I spun around then let out a breath when I saw it was Mandy and not Daniel Reese. “You startled me. I thought you were headed off the ship”
“I was, but I wanted to grab a heavier coat from my room.” Mandy let her eyes linger on Fern’s towel-turbaned head, which he patted.
I didn’t even bother to explain because the explanation would sound ridiculous. I looked over my shoulder to the stairs. At least no one else was a witness, even though I could hear the low hum of the guests one floor above us. If all was going according to plan, they were being plied with enough food and drink to keep them from entertaining any notion of exploring the ship.
“You’ve come by our building before, haven’t you?” Leatrice asked.
Mandy nodded, her eyes fixed on the manila envelope. “I thought it was at your place, Annabelle.”
“We had a bit of a mix-up. Leatrice thought I wanted her to bring it to me on board.”
Mandy’s eyes darted up and down the narrow hallway. “That’s the only evidence we have showing something fishy is going on.”
“Leatrice,” I said, “we have to get you and that envelope off the ship. It isn’t safe here.”
Her face fell. “But I just got here and it took me forever to drive here in this rain.”
“You drove in this storm?” Mandy gaped at her and then sighed. “You can’t send her out in this weather.”
“Fine,” I said, my sigh matching Mandy’s. “But we have to keep you out of the way.”
“She can hide out in my room until the rain slacks off a bit,” Mandy offered. “No one will look for her there.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. I could only imagine what kind of trouble Mandy would get into if anyone discovered my nutty old neighbor had crashed the wedding and was hiding out in her bedroom. Then again, Mandy was already in hot water, so what was a little more?
“Of course. I was on my way there anyway.”
Leatrice and Mandy headed down the hall to the spiral staircase that led down to the crew quarters. I trailed behind, still not comfortable with the idea of Leatrice hiding on the ship with the wedding going on above us and a dead body yet to be discovered just steps away.
“What are you doing?” I said to Fern when I noticed he was following me. I started walking faster.
“This is exciting. I’ve always wanted to go into hiding,” Fern said in a low voice as we wound our way down the staircase. “This is just like being in the witness relocation program.”
“This is nothing like that,” I said when we reached the lower level. “Leatrice is hiding out until we can get her safely off the ship. That’s all.”
“Why are you trying to take this away from me, Annabelle?” Fern pushed me back as he sped up and passed me in the narrow hallway, almost bumping into Leatrice and Mandy when they stopped in front of a doorway.
Mandy opened the door and waved Leatrice inside the small windowless room.
“Make yourself at home.” She took a couple of steps over to the closet. “I need to find my Mystic Maven raincoat or I’ll get drenched out there.”
Leatrice took a seat at the blond wood desk and put the envelope in front of her, pushing the crystal Mystic Maven paperweight out of her way.
“Did you open it?” I asked Leatrice.
She looked affronted. “Of course not, dear. I would never pry.”
I restrained myself from mentioning the many ways she’d pried in my life, from trying to set me up with the pizza delivery boys to leaving open cookbooks on my kitchen counter to slipping flyers for cleaning services under my door. I picked up the envelope and ripped open the back flap.
“What are those?” Leatrice asked.
“Arrest records. I flipped through the files. “Half the people on this ship seem to have some sort of criminal record.
“Except me,” Mandy said, pulling a black coat from the closet. “But I think that was because of a spelling mistake.”
“I like the fabric,” Fern said to Mandy, appraising the black nylon rain coat she’d slipped on. “But the cut doesn’t do your figure any favors, honey.”
Leatrice rubbed her hands together. “Oooh. It’s like a pirate ship. How exciting.”
“I don’t think many pirates were into petty shoplifting and bouncing checks.” I scanned the records quickly then set them aside and turned to the receipts.
“Is it normal to buy so many guns?” Leatrice asked, staring over my shoulder at the paperwork.
“What’s that?” Mandy asked, straining to look while Fern held her back and adjusted her coat.
“Those receipts are from dark net gun suppliers,” Leatrice said, “All small orders but lots of them.”
I looked at her. “How do you know?”
“I recognized the names from my time on the dark net with Boots and Dagger Dan.”
I tried to forget Leatrice’s time hanging out with online hackers. It did not make me feel better to know that she was familiar with the seedier side of the internet.
“Why does a luxury yacht need to purchase so many guns under the radar?” I wondered aloud.
“Why do they make raincoats so boxy? Life is full of mysteries.” Fern pointed at Mandy. “What you need is a belt to cinch your waist.”
I glanced back at Fern pawing through the closet while Mandy looked helpless beside him. I mouthed an apology to her then turned back to the papers. “I can’t imagine a private yacht needing this kind of an arsenal. I wonder if the harbormaster somehow saw the guns and questioned them.”
