Dead Ringer, page 3
“If it does, the hotel is getting a bill from me.” Richard stomped off.
I thought of the two options. Option one: the police. The thought of filing a police report clearly upset Lorinda. If her father was as tough on her as it sounded, I understood her wanting to hide a mistake like leaving the jewelry case open and getting robbed.
Option two: canceling the show. Even if they could find another weekend where all the vendors were free before wedding season picked up, Buster and Mack couldn’t afford to buy all the flowers again and Richard would bust a gasket if he had to throw away all of the food he’d prepared. No. The show must go on.
“Of course it’s not going to be canceled,” I said. “Because we’re going to find out who took those diamonds.”
Chapter 6
“Don’t we need to set up our display?” Kate asked as I pulled her by the sleeve toward the middle of the room.
“We can’t do much until Buster and Mack hang the canopy of branches,” I said. “Unless you want to find us helmets to wear as we work underneath them.”
Kate shook her head, no doubt thinking back to the large branch that had crashed to the floor under Buster only minutes ago.
The setup of the show had resumed after the blackout, and the ballroom bustled with activity. The makeup artist across from us had suspended an ornate silver-framed mirror in front of her stool and bent over a long narrow table arranging the rows of brushes, shadows, blushes, and pencils she would use on the brides-to-be. She wore her black hair naturally curly and short and always rocked a perfect winged cat eye.
“Let me know if you ladies want a touch-up before the show,” she called to us.
I felt Kate start to drift in the direction of the MAC and Bobbi Brown logos, and I tightened my grip on her arm. Since the makeup artist hadn’t been at her booth during the blackout, she didn’t make my list of people to interview. “Later, I promise.”
Next to the makeup artist, stood a space designed entirely in shades of blue from the turquoise backdrop to the navy-blue linen covering a long rectangular table to the thick garland of indigo flowers running the length of the table and touching the floor on either side.
“Are those spray painted?” I whispered to Kate. Not a huge number of flowers found in nature actually came in blue, and I felt reasonably confident that carnations were not one of them.
Kate grimaced. “A better question is are those carnations?”
“Carnations in mass can be pretty,” I said.
“Then this needs more mass.”
I elbowed her in the side as the florist turned from putting the finishing touches on her spray-painted carnation runner. I glanced up at the sign over the table: Tamara’s Flowers. “You must be Tamara.”
The woman smiled and pushed a strand of brown hair out of her face. She dropped a pair of clippers into the front pouch of her Tamara’s Flowers apron. “Tammy Roland. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Annabelle and this is my assistant, Kate.” I shook her hand, then Kate did the same. “It seems like the blackout didn’t slow you down much.”
Tammy laughed. “Nah. I came in here real early setting up. It’s my first show, and I wanted to get it just right. Have you two done this show before?”
“I few times,” I said. “It’s the best one.”
“Is it always in this hotel?” Tammy asked.
“No, it moves around,” Kate said. “But this is the first year we’ve lost power during setup.”
“Wasn’t that something?” Tammy shook her head. “I was unpacking my garland when it went black.”
“So you were behind the table?” I asked.
“Nope. Right in front of it.” She motioned to some empty boxes near us. “I had my boxes outside of my space a bit.”
I glanced at the long white flower boxes jutting out into the center of the room. “So did you hear anyone moving around or running past you during the blackout?”
Tammy tilted her head to one side. “Running past me? No. But there were definitely folks moving around and bumping into things. I almost fell over trying to find my table.”
“I’ll bet.” I thought back to when Kate and I groped our way over to Lorinda in the dark. It made sense that we weren’t the only people trying to move around the room.
“Are you asking because of the lady who got her diamonds stolen?”
I must have appeared surprised because Tammy grinned and rested her fingers on my arm. “It’s not a huge room, and eavesdropping is one of my hobbies.”
I couldn’t help liking Tammy. “Well, if you hear anything that might help us find out who took the diamonds, we’re right over in the booth with the gold bar.”
Tammy’s eyes darted over my shoulders to where our gold bar sat underneath an ever-growing canopy of gold branches. Mack stood on the ground directly underneath Buster and passed up another branch. “You know the boys from Lush?”
“Buster and Mack?” Kate said. “Sure.”
Tammy’s cheeks flushed. “Would you mind introducing me? Whenever you get the chance or even after the show.”
“Of course,” I said. “Stop by after all the brides leave, and we’ll introduce you.”
We left Tammy excited for her meeting with Buster and Mack, but we hadn’t gained much new information.
“What the . . .” Kate stopped short in front of the next booth and I bumped into her back.
I stepped around Kate to see what had caught her attention. A pink sign for Brianna’s Bride’s Wedding Planning hung over an all-white display. A deathly white woman in a white lab coat stood between a Plexiglas swivel stool and a narrow table that held a row of syringes. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Botox,” Kate whispered to me. “This wedding planner is giving out free Botox injections.”
“That can’t be legal,” I said, imagining the fits my insurance company would have if I told them I’d be performing medical procedures.
Kate dug an elbow into my side and motioned to the sign on an easel next to the woman. Erase your worry and your worry lines by becoming one of Brianna’s Brides today! The words were emblazoned in hot pink and surrounded by pictures of hearts and wedding rings.
Kate shook her head slowly. “We can’t compete with this.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “What kind of crazy person would want to be injected with a toxin at a bridal fair?” I held up a finger “Aside from you.”
“Brides,” Kate reminded me. “They’re exactly this kind of crazy.”
“Who is this Brianna anyway? Have you ever heard of her?”
“Never,” Kate said. “Do you think she’s the one in the lab coat?”
“No.” I jerked my head toward a tall blonde who’d appeared from behind the drape in the back of the booth. She wore a fuchsia cocktail dress and sparkly silver shoes that seemed out of place next to a woman in a lab coat. Or at a bridal show.
She spotted us and beamed. “Hey, y’all.”
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Annabelle and this is Kate. We’re from Wedding Belles.”
She nodded but didn’t register any recognition. “I’ve never heard of your company. Are you new, too?”
Kate made a noise of indignant protest, but I talked over her. “We’ve been around for about five years.”
“Really? Well, I’m Brianna. I recently moved up from Charleston.”
“So you’re doing Botox today?” Kate asked.
Brianna leaned in to us. “Isn’t this fun? One of the first things I noticed about DC was how serious it is.” She made an exaggerated pouty face. “And so many girls have worry lines already. This is just me doing my part to make Washington pretty again.”
Kate and I stared at her.
“Y’all are more than welcome to get your foreheads done before the brides get here.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” I said before Kate could come back with what was sure to be a tart reply. “We’re actually asking around to see if anyone heard a person running out of the ballroom during the blackout.”
Brianna’s eyes widened but her eyebrows didn’t move. I suspected she’d already sampled her own wares. “How mysterious. Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing someone pass by me awfully fast.”
“During the blackout?” I asked.
“Mmm-hmm. Maybe a minute or so after everything went black.”
I made a mental note that Brianna’s Botox display stood only one booth away from the door to the ballroom.
“Thanks,” I said. “That’s very helpful.”
“Y’all don’t forget to come back here for your Botox,” she said as I moved Kate away from her. “I promise it will take ten years off your face.”
“Ten years?” Kate hissed as I propelled her out of earshot. “How old does she think we are?”
“I’m sure she meant to be nice,” I said.
Kate rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t. And what about that line that she’d never heard of us? We’re in every magazine and on every vendor list in the city.”
“That’s assuming she reads.”
Kate allowed herself a smile. “Touché, Annabelle. I love it when you’re snarky.”
We’d reached the propped-open double doors to the ballroom. I spotted the two security officers we’d met earlier coming across the foyer toward us, propelling a struggling man between them.
“I’m telling you, this is all a misunderstanding.”
Kate turned around when she heard the voice. “Well, we’ve found Fern.”
Chapter 7
“I promise you, I did not steal this ring,” Fern protested as he entered the ballroom with a security guard on each side. “I was merely making a dramatic statement.”
“That’s true,” I said, walking up to the two security officers. “He was trying on the ring right before the blackout.”
Neither officer seemed convinced. “Then why did we find him getting on an elevator?”
“He was in the middle of flouncing out of the ballroom in protest when the power went out,” Kate said.
The taller officer loosened his grip as he gave Fern the once-over. “Protesting what?”
“The indignity of having to work with a marginally talented stylist.” Fern’s voice cracked as he let his head flop forward. “The horror of being eclipsed before my star has been allowed to fully shine.”
“Okay.” The blond officer shook his head. “How about I take the ring and return it to the jeweler for you?”
Fern snapped his head back up. “That works for me.” He slid the diamond ring off his finger and dropped it into one of the officer’s opened palm. The two men released his arms and Fern smoothed his velvet smoking jacket. “I hope these creases in the velvet aren’t permanent.”
“Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble, buddy.” Christopher clapped a hand on Fern’s shoulder as he came around the drape wall.
Fern stumbled forward a step then righted himself. “No. A little misunderstanding is all.”
Kate rested a hand on my arm to steady herself as she took in Christopher at close range. I stared pointedly at Kate, hoping she’d get my message to take her gaping down a notch. Either she didn’t notice the message or pretended not to. “I’m Kate. A friend of Fern’s.”
Christopher gave her a spectacular smile. “Any friend of Fern’s is a friend of mine.”
I had to admit that not only was this guy gorgeous, he seemed charming. I could tell why Fern despised him. If I met a female equivalent, I’d want to pull out her hair.
Fern had a forced smile on his face, but I could practically hear him seething inside. “What are you doing down here, Christopher?”
“Taking a peek at the ballroom before it all starts.” He swept his arms wide. “But I was headed back up. Don’t want to fall behind in glamming up these models, do we?” He placed a hand on the back of the model standing next to him, a picture in her beehive, nearly sheer wedding gown, and matching elbow-length sheer gloves. The dark-haired waif made quite the contrast to his bulk. Her bored gaze passed over us, but she didn’t spare even the hint of a smile.
“If the show isn’t shut down,” I said.
“Why?” Fern and Christopher asked simultaneously.
I pointed to Fern’s now-bare finger. “The ring you had on your finger wasn’t the only one that walked off. Goodman & Sons Jewelers was robbed.”
Fern gasped. “During the blackout?”
Kate nodded. “Someone got all of her diamond rings.”
Fern staggered into Kate, who nearly buckled under his weight. “All those diamonds are gone?”
I ignored Fern’s mock swoon and turned to Christopher. “You were here when the lights went out, right?”
He motioned to the right side of the drape wall. “I wanted to inspect my booth before the fashion show started. You know we’re given a free booth for doing the hair for the show?”
I glanced at Fern, who gave a small nod and said under his breath, “I asked to be on the opposite side.”
“I’m next to the bespoke tuxedo booth all the way at the end.” Christopher grinned. “They’re interested in having me model for them.”
“I’ll bet they are,” Kate said. This time Fern stepped on her foot, causing her to yelp and glare at him. At this rate, they would be in a full-on brawl within five minutes.
“Did you see anything?” I asked Christopher, doing my best not to pay any attention to Kate and Fern.
“Well it was pitch dark,” Christopher said and laughed at his own wit.
“Hear anything then?” I corrected myself. “Or notice anyone running around?”
Christopher cocked his head at me. “In the dark? No. I mean, people were talking and trying to find their way to an exit but no one was crazy enough to run around. The floor is still covered with boxes. They’d break their neck.”
He made a good point. The ballroom remained pretty chaotic and messy. It would be difficult to take a step without having to dodge a crate or a pile of branches or a rack of glassware.
“What about when the lights came back on?” I asked.
He smiled at the model next to him. “I spent a few minutes talking to the tuxedo guys, and now I’m here talking to you.”
“Right,” I said. “I’m only asking to help find the missing rings. If they have to call in the police, that could mean the end of the bridal show.”
Christopher’s face fell. “But we’ve been working on these models since eight a.m.”
“We’ve all been here for a while,” Kate said. “That’s why we’re asking around. We find the diamonds, the show goes on.”
“Well, you know where I was,” Fern said.
“Had you made it to the elevators when the lights went out?” I asked.
Fern tapped a finger to his chin. “No. I was on the stairs from the foyer to the elevator bank. When everything went black, I froze.”
“Who else was in the foyer and stairs with you?”
“Lots of people.” He shuddered. “The poor lighting team still on ladders.”
“Did you hear anyone running past you for the exit?”
Fern pursed his mouth while he thought. “Running? I don’t think so. But someone could have walked past me. There was a lot of noise with the guys trying to come down from the ladders. One of them slipped and yelled pretty loud.”
“Well, we’d better head back upstairs. We have a dress rehearsal for the show in a few minutes.” Christopher thumped Fern on the back as he moved toward the door, guiding the model with a hand resting on the small of her back. A security guard stopped the pair, giving Christopher a pat-down, then seeing the tiny girl in the form-fitting gossamer gown and waving her through. There wasn’t room between her skin and the fabric for a tissue much less a tray of diamond rings.
“Can you believe him?” Fern hissed once Christopher walked out of earshot.
“No.” Kate stared after him. “He’s almost too good to be true.”
Fern glared at Kate. “So this is what betrayal feels like.”
Kate slipped an arm around Fern’s waist. “You know I love you the most.”
He sniffed. “Talk is cheap, darling. But I suppose the beefcake is right. I’d better go back upstairs. You’ll come see our dress rehearsal, won’t you?”
“When is it? We still need to talk to a lot of people down here about the theft.” I spotted the security officers walking toward us and tried to change the subject. “But text me before it starts, and we’ll come upstairs.”
“If we can,” Kate said. “This crime isn’t going to investigate itself.”
I stared at her, willing her to be quiet, but as usual, she missed my signal. How could she pick up a single guy’s signals from miles away yet miss all of mine?
“Very funny.” I gave Kate a playful shove as the security officers got within earshot. “You’re such a kidder.”
“I wish it was a joke,” Kate said. “You know that there are few things Annabelle loves as much as poking her nose into a crime when she’s told not to.”
“Is that so?” The stern expression on the tall officer’s face told me that he wasn’t amused.
Chapter 8
“Do we have a problem here?” The security officer folded his thick arms across his chest.
Kate and Fern had been struck dumb once they’d realized that the head of security had walked up behind them. Fern’s eyes had bugged out to fish-like proportions while Kate’s mouth hung open.
“No problem,” I said. “We were only joking.”
He didn’t appear convinced. “It sounded like this isn’t the first crime you’ve been involved in.”
“What? No, I mean, like we mentioned earlier, we’ve been involved in one or two incidents before,” I said.
“One or two?” His gaze narrowed.
“Or three,” I added.
He snapped his fingers. “Wait a second. Did you have anything to do with the murder at the Fairmont Hotel?”
