Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 74
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
I held up my hands. “Okay, okay.” I turned to Janet. “Who asked you to come back?” I tried to sound sympathetic but firm. “You know Kristie has an issue with all this media coverage.”
Caren nodded. “She’s very upset.”
Janet rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I didn’t drag my guys down to the docks for fun. Mrs. Barbery requested we film her first session with her stylist.”
“Jeremy Johns?” Kate asked. “But he’s been here for days.”
Janet shook her head. “No, her personal hair and makeup stylist. The one from Paris.”
I’d forgotten she had a stylist from Paris. Why was I surprised? I glanced at Fern to see how he was handling the competition.
Fern bobbed his head up and down. “Damian. He’s divine. He’s been giving me all the scoop on Babs and her friends and their jewelry.”
There wasn’t much Fern loved more than enormous jewelry and juicy gossip. The combination was his personal Valhalla.
“So if you were with Damian, where’s the bride?” I asked Fern.
He gave me a blank look. “I thought she was with Sonia. The last I knew, they were clearing the negative energy from the main foyer when Damian came in with the film crew headed up to Mrs. Barbery’s suite. Damian admired my ring and we started talking about jewels and the time just flew by and the next thing I knew, I heard screaming.” Fern fluttered a hand to sum up his story, and I tried hard not to let out a sigh of exasperation.
“I can’t wait to meet this Damian guy,” Kate whispered to me. “Since when have you seen Fern like this?”
I had to agree. It was unusual for Fern to be impressed by anyone.
“They ruined our ritual, so Kristie went to talk to her stepmother,” Sonia said. Her voice had become much calmer now and she seemed to be returning to her spiritualist persona. “I insisted this woman remove her invasive technology from the ship, but she refused.”
Janet shrugged. “I have to get the shots. This is a big wedding.”
“Can you shoot in Mrs. Barbery’s suite and avoid the rest of the boat while Ms. Feinstein performs her rituals?” I asked.
“That’s Romanov-Feinstein,” the spiritualist corrected me.
I ignored Kate’s suppressed giggle as I turned to Sonia. “Does that work for you? You can clear the rest of the boat, but just don’t touch Mrs. Barbery’s room.”
Sonia sniffed and gave the smallest nod of her head. “Space healing wouldn’t work in there anyway. I’d need a whole fleet of healers.”
I tended to agree with her. It would take a team of exorcists to tackle Babs Barbery and more time than we had until the wedding.
“Well, I’d better get back to Damian,” Fern said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He motioned to Janet. “I’ll take you to the suite.”
Fern led Janet away, Sonia disappeared inside the boat ringing her finger cymbals as she went, and Caren mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me as she hurried out of the room.
I let out a breath. “Problem solved.”
“Not exactly.” The woman’s voice from behind made me jump.
Mandy descended the stairs from above with a tall man I’d never seen before following closely behind her. He wore a black polo shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, and since there was no monogram on his chest, I knew he wasn’t affiliated with the ship. From the ever-so-slight gray peppering his brown hair, I could tell he was about a decade older than most of the staff aboard. I also noticed he lacked a suntan.
“We need to have a word,” the mystery man said, his expression stony.
“This doesn’t look good,” Kate said.
I gulped. When Kate was right, she was right.
17
“I’m Reese.” The man in black extended his hand to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’re who?”
Kate shook her head as if she was trying to loosen something. “We already have a Reese.”
The man smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners, and I felt a stirring of familiarity. This guy looked a lot like Detective Reese, only about ten years older.
“This is the head of the private security team that Mr. Barbery authorized,” Mandy said. “Daniel Reese.”
“The security team is made up of retired law enforcement, right?” I took the man’s hand and shook it, locking eyes with him. “You wouldn’t happen to have a brother who’s a DC police detective, would you?”
His smiled widened. “You know Mike then.”
Kate’s eyes grew wide. “You’re Reese’s brother?” She gave him a noticeable once-over and nodded in appreciation. “Talk about good genes.”
The man in front of us was probably fifteen years older than Kate and was just as tall and broad as his brother, the scattered gray in his dark hair only making him look more distinguished. As Kate stepped closer to him, her eyes seemed to glaze over.
He let go of my hand. “Older brother. And call me Daniel. You must be the wedding planners Mike told me about.”
“I’m Annabelle, and this is my assistant, Kate.”
Kate held out her hand and fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m really more of an associate.”
I wanted to ask Daniel what his brother had said about me, but I caught the phrase “wedding planners” in the plural, so chances were good we’d just been mentioned as part of the ongoing case.
“I was showing Daniel around the ship and giving him the rundown of the accidents,” Mandy said. “He’s got three other guys with him, but he’ll be our point person.”
“Three more retired cops?” Kate asked, putting a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Are all of them as good-looking as you?”
Mandy gave me a look and we both shook our heads. Kate’s age window for acceptable men was generous, especially when they looked like Daniel Reese.
I stepped on Kate’s foot, and she yelped a little and released Daniel’s arm. “What can we do to help you, Daniel?”
“You can tell me why there are so many people on board.”
As if on cue, we heard voices coming from the deck below us. Two deckhands were discussing where the paint needed to be touched up.
“Most of the people are temporary,” Mandy explained. “The only people living aboard are the staff, the owners, and Kristie.”
Daniel Reese pulled a small flip notebook out of his back pocket and scribbled some notes with what looked like a golf pencil.
“Jeremy Johns and Damian aren’t staying here?” I asked.
Mandy snapped her fingers. “I forgot about them. The designer and stylist also have rooms.”
Daniel raised one eyebrow, but nodded and continued writing.
“What about Brody?” Kate asked, leaning close to Daniel. “He’s the bride’s stepbrother.”
“He has a room,” Mandy said. “But he’s also got one at the Mandarin Hotel with his girlfriend.”
Kate twitched at the word ‘girlfriend.’ A smaller boat passed by and gave a tap of its horn. Mandy waved to them out of habit then continued.
“The space healer is a one-time visitor and should be leaving soon, and the TV crew just comes aboard to tape segments. And then there are Annabelle and Kate and Richard. He’s the caterer, but they’re all with the wedding, so they just come and go.”
Daniel shook his head. “That’s a lot of traffic.”
“This wedding is a big deal,” Kate said.
“And a bit of a circus,” I said, lowering my voice so it wouldn’t travel far. I was well aware we were on an open deck, and Mrs. Barbery seemed to have ears everywhere.
Daniel looked up from his notes and grinned at me, and I saw the flash of his brother’s smile again.
“So does Reese, I mean Mike, bring you in to help on his cases often?” I asked.
Daniel pressed his lips together as if considering what to say. “Mike isn’t the kind of man to ask for help a lot.”
That sounded about right. I had a hard time imagining Reese calling in reinforcements for anything.
“He only calls us in for special cases. But since I’m twelve years older than my brother, he grew up watching me on the force. I like to think I taught him everything he knows.”
“Were you a detective, too?” Kate asked.
Daniel nodded. “Vice and Homicide.”
“How thrilling. You must have tons of stories.” Kate took a step closer to Daniel and out of the reach of my kick.
“So you said your brother only brings you in on special cases,” I said, more for Kate’s benefit. “What makes this case different?”
I thought I caught him giving me a knowing look, but then he cleared his throat and flipped his notebook closed.
“Well, the death of the harbormaster. Accidents on a boat are one thing. A harbormaster’s murder is another.”
“He was definitely murdered?” I asked. “It wasn’t an accident?”
Daniel Reese shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. “He was dead before he went in the water. Blunt force trauma to the head.”
Mandy raised a hand to her mouth. Even though we’d thought there was foul play, it was sobering to hear it confirmed. I felt a jolt of shock, as well. Mandy moved over to one of the banquettes that ran the edge of the deck and sank down onto the blue-and-white-striped cushion.
“Are you all right?” Daniel asked.
Mandy gave a quick bob of her head. “I’m fine. It’s just that I spoke with the harbormaster the day he died. He seemed like a nice guy.”
“Why don’t you let Kate get you some water?” I shot a look at Kate who, for once, was paying attention and hurried off to the kitchen.
“I’m fine.” Mandy managed a weak smile.
I sat next to Mandy. “Do you remember anything else about that day? Anyone who may have been around him?”
“It wasn’t unusual for the harbormaster to come aboard,” she said. “Usually there was paperwork to fill out so he met with the captain or the first mate.”
“Did you see him with either of those men on the day of the murder?” I asked.
Mandy looked up at me and then at Daniel. “Not that I remember. I already told the police that I was supposed to meet with the harbormaster but didn’t see him after he left Mr. Barbery’s study.”
Daniel cleared his throat but I ignored him. “He was in the father’s study? Why?”
Mandy shrugged. “I think he’d heard about Mr. Barbery’s history as a treasure hunter. He’s pretty well known in certain circles.”
“So Mr. Barbery was with him the day he died?” I asked.
Mandy nodded then her eyes widened. “You don’t think that Mr. Barbery had anything to do with it, do you?”
“Mr. Barbery is not a suspect,” Daniel said before I could answer, and he gave me a look that told me to keep quiet. “The police don’t have any suspects yet, although Detective Reese does have a theory regarding the escalation of the accidents and the murder.”
I leaned back against the banquette. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a pattern,” Daniel said, his face somber. “The accidents have been getting more serious. And now someone’s been killed. It’s an escalation.”
I felt my stomach clench. “Reese thinks the same person who killed the harbormaster is responsible for the accidents?”
Daniel’s eyes held mine, and I noticed they’d darkened. “He thinks all of this is the work of a violent and dangerous person.”
18
I lobbed my keys into the bowl by my front door and dropped my purse on the floor. I let the door shut behind me and reveled in the silence. I’d dropped Kate off at her place and managed to tiptoe upstairs so Leatrice wouldn’t know I was back. After the drama of the past few days, it was nice to be alone in my apartment even if it was a bit of a mess. I ignored the stack of files on my coffee table as I kicked off my shoes and sank onto my couch, letting my head roll back and my eyes close. I took a few deep breaths and almost instantly felt calmer.
I felt my shoulders relax and I tried not to think about the wedding and the murder, but questions kept flitting through my mind. Who on board Mystic Maven wanted the harbormaster dead? What did they gain with him out of the way? Had he seen something he wasn’t supposed to? And if Reese was right, how were the accidents tied into the death?
I shook the chaotic thoughts from my head and tried to remember the meditation techniques I’d learned in yoga class to clear my mind of all noise. No use. I reminded myself that even when the yoga teacher had explained the mind-clearing technique, I’d been thinking about my wedding to-do list. A different wedding at the time, but it was clear I’d become obsessive about my job.
“Great,” I whispered to no one but myself. “I’m a workaholic who can’t seem to plan a wedding without someone getting killed.”
I felt tears pricking the backs of my eyes and the stress of the past few days washing over me. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off and I wasn’t running around trying to talk people down or smooth things over, I realized how much I’d internalized all of the drama. I let a few tears snake down my cheeks.
Richard had warned me not to get so emotionally involved with my clients when I’d first started in the wedding business. He’d been catering weddings for over ten years before I’d come on the scene, so he spoke from experience.
“Never forget you’re the hired help, Annabelle. As close to these families as you may feel, you’re still being paid to do a job. The wedding will end and they’ll move on. If you let weddings become your entire life, you won’t be left with anything in the end but a few thank-you notes and a stack of old ceremony programs.”
He’d been right, of course. Most of the time I was happy to let clients move on, but I became so involved with some of the families it felt like a breakup when the wedding was over. And since I gave my all to my job, I didn’t have any time or energy left over for much else. When I let myself think about it, I realized the years were flying past me, and I was rushing from wedding season to wedding season always trying to get through the one or two high-maintenance or overly elaborate weddings on the horizon. But there was always another big wedding coming around the corner, and Richard’s warning echoed in my head. Was I missing having a real life because I was so caught up planning other people’s weddings?
I wiped the tears from my face and let my eyes flutter open. I was well past thirty years old, and I’d never gotten a marriage proposal or even come close. My only friends were people I worked with, and almost all the men I hung out with were far from being eligible. My life was filled with cake tastings and Champagne, but not many personal celebrations. The realization almost made me start crying again. A knock on the door snapped me out of my pity party.
“Coming,” I called as I touched my cheeks to make sure I’d wiped away all the tears. I opened the door and stared. “Detective Reese?”
The detective wore broken-in jeans and an untucked dark green T-shirt matching his eyes. He wasn’t wearing a blazer like he usually did when on duty, and he had a day’s worth of scruff, making him look even more attractive. I felt my pulse quicken.
“Is this a bad time?” He shifted from foot to foot and looked over my shoulder into my living room. “Do you have company?”
“Actually, no.” I stepped aside and held open the door. “Come on in.”
He walked inside, and I closed the door behind him. “How did you get past without my neighbor seeing you and escorting you up?”
He shrugged. “I may have jimmied the front lock and tiptoed past her door.”
“Jimmied the lock?” I tilted my head as I studied him. “That doesn’t sound very cop-like.”
Reese winked at me. “I wasn’t always a cop.”
I motioned for him to sit. “Interesting. Your brother said you followed him into law enforcement. It seems like following the straight and narrow is a family tradition, but now you’re confessing to breaking into my building. What gives, Detective?”
I didn’t know why he’d felt compelled to confess this secret to me, but I enjoyed having something to tease him about. I also enjoyed the fact that, for once, he was the one turning red.
He gave a nervous laugh as he sank onto one end of my couch. “What he didn’t tell you was I was a bit wild when I was younger. Very unlike my big brother. Daniel was the one to set me down and tell me to pick which side of the law I wanted to end up on.”
“And you picked the right side.” I took the other end of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me as I sat.
Reese grinned. “I like to think so.”
“I’d have to agree with you,” I said. “You’re a really good cop.”
He cleared his throat, the flush spreading up his neck to his cheeks. “How did we get on this topic?”
It was my turn to grin. “You confessed to breaking into my apartment building. I can only assume you had a really good reason. Aside from wanting to avoid an exhausting encounter with Leatrice.”
He straightened up, twisting around to face me. “I wanted to talk with you about the situation on the ship.”
“Your brother already spoke to us,” I said, then snapped my fingers. “Where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure,” he said. “Whatever you’re having.”
I pushed myself up and headed for the kitchen. “Keep talking. I’m listening.”
“Did you ever see the harbormaster on the Mystic Maven? Or see anyone from the Mystic Maven talking with him?”
“No, but Mandy told me he spoke to Mr. Barbery the day he was killed.” I opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents. I didn’t think the detective was up for flat Diet Dr Pepper, so I pulled the bottle of Champagne from the door, saying a silent thanks to Richard for bringing it with him the last time he’d come over. According to Richard, a girl should always have a bottle of bubbly chilling. “Are you sure his death was connected to the Mystic Maven?”
