Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 81
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
“So Mandy went AWOL?” Richard asked. “Well, isn’t that the cherry on top? It’s going to rain buckets, we’re stuck on a boat decked out in rustic neon, and now we’re down another crew member.”
“Did you say Mandy?” Leatrice snapped her fingers. “That’s the name of the nice girl who came by looking for you, Annabelle.”
My heart sank. I tried not to think of all the reasons why Mandy would have left the ship the day before the wedding and come looking for me. Maybe she got scared because of all the things happening on the ship, including the murder; maybe she’d had enough of Mrs. Barbery; or maybe she ran off because she was somehow involved with all the bad things going on. I didn’t really believe the last one though. Mandy had been our one ally on the crew during the entire ordeal, and I couldn’t help but worry that something bad had happened to her the way it had to Caren.
“Why do you think she left?” I asked Daniel.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s good.”
Richard’s voice became shrill. “Of course it’s not good. Nothing about this wedding has been good. It’s been a disaster from the beginning. I’m telling you, Annabelle, this ship is cursed. Cursed, I say!” He flung himself down on a couch.
I couldn’t argue with him. Things were going from bad to worse to catastrophic.
“What else could possibly—” Richard started to say.
I leaned over and clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare. The second you wonder what else could go wrong, it will.”
He made muffled noises into my hand, and I lowered it from his mouth.
“You have got to start using hand cream, Annabelle. Your skin feels like paper-mâché.” He dabbed at his mouth. “I have no intention of inviting more trouble. We certainly have all we can handle.”
“And then some,” I agreed.
Leatrice clapped her hands together. “Are all your weddings this exciting?”
Richard looked at me without smiling. “Kill me now.”
31
“Where are we going?” Richard asked as he followed me up the spiral stairs running from the back deck to the top level of the ship.
“I need to measure the hot tub,” I said, pulling my pocket tape measure out of my purse. “If we’re moving the ceremony canopy down to the salon, I need to know how big it is. And since it was going to sit over the hot tub on the top deck, I can measure the hot tub to find out.”
When we reached the top of the stairs, I looked at the clouds massed in the sky. Even though the storm wasn’t predicted to hit until the next day, the sky already looked gray, and I could swear I smelled rain in the air. I brushed the thoughts out of my mind. The key to having so many rain-free weddings had always been a good rain plan. If we planned for rain, it wouldn’t happen—so I was a woman on a mission to come up with the world’s best plan B.
I glanced at Richard. “Where’s Leatrice? I thought she was right behind you.”
Richard looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “We’ll find her later.”
My gut told me it wasn’t a good idea to have my eccentric neighbor loose on the ship, although I didn’t have time to search for her now. I was on a mission. I had less than ten hours to transform an outdoor wedding into an indoor one, and it wasn’t going to be easy. I led the way across the shiny white surface to the elevated hot tub near the middle. We’d had a custom cover made for the hot tub out of the same hard white plastic as the rest of the boat, and it fit so seamlessly you couldn’t tell there was water below. I felt a twinge of sadness knowing the ceremony wouldn’t be up here on the open deck with the bride and groom elevated above the guests under a magnificent floral canopy. The photos would have been incredible. I shook the image from my head and tried to convince myself the wedding would be just as pretty inside when I knew it wouldn’t. Rain plans, no matter how good, were never fabulous.
“Hold this.” I gave Richard the end of the tape measure and unrolled it as I walked away from him and up onto the hot tub cover. He held his end down on the edge of the cover, and I bent down and touched the yellow lined ribbon to the other side. I made a mental note of the length then picked up my side and crossed over the cover so I could measure the width. “Okay. That’s what I thought. It’s a perfect square.”
“Is this really what we should be doing now?” Richard let go of his end, and the tape measure snaked across the ground and back up into the metal holder with a snap.
“What do you suggest we do?” I asked. I pulled out my phone and tapped the measurements into the notes section so I wouldn’t forget them. “We still have a huge wedding in less than twenty-four hours and a major storm system is coming through.”
I started back across the top deck and Richard rushed after me. “Aren’t you concerned a crew member has disappeared? And the only one who was helpful at that.”
I paused at the top of the stairs leading down. “Of course I am. But I have no idea how to find her or why she ran off. And even if I did, we’d still have a wedding for one hundred fifty guests to pull off.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this way.”
Richard was right. I’d shifted into Robo Wedding Planner mode. Finding out about the rainstorm and Mandy’s disappearance had sent my system into overload, and the only way I could deal with it without falling apart was to focus completely on my work. If I thought too much about everything that had happened on the boat so far, or what it all meant, or how dangerous it was to still be working on board, I might run off screaming. And I couldn’t do that with a wedding to run. Luckily, there was plenty to do to switch the wedding over to the rain plan, and it would keep me from worrying about Mandy.
“This is me implementing a rain plan,” I said. “What do you think?”
Richard leaned back and put his hands on his hips as he looked at me. “Impressive and terrifying.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Finally someone in this business is scared of me. Now, let’s go find Jeremy and give him the good news about moving his canopy inside.”
We hurried down the stairs and I popped my head into the main salon. No Jeremy Johns.
“He must be with the stepmother.” Richard motioned his head at the room. “Now that Mandy’s gone, who do we talk to about getting all the furniture moved?”
I gnawed at the edge of my lip. “I don’t know. We may have to do it ourselves.”
“You must be joking, Annabelle. Might I remind you I am wearing Dolce and Gabbana from head to toe?” He swept his hands up and down his torso. “This suit was not designed for heavy lifting.”
I stared at his beige suit, noticing how the pants tapered and the jacket fit snug. “Can you even bend over in that thing?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked affronted. “Of course I can. That doesn’t mean I intend to work like a pack mule in it. If I’d known you wanted to strap armchairs to my back and work me like a Sherpa, I would have chosen something off-the-rack to wear.”
It was my turn to cross my arms. “Like you own anything off-the-rack.”
“Of course I do,” he said. “I have a Banana Republic suit when I want to dress down. I can be just as plebeian as you when I want to be.”
I decided to ignore his backhanded compliment. “We’ll find someone to help us move things. But for now, we have to find Jeremy.”
We crossed the salon and took the spiral staircase down one level. The master suite took up half a floor facing the bow of the ship. I paused at the large wooden double doors.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Richard asked.
“We have to.” I knocked lightly on the door before I could talk myself out of it. There was no sound from the other side.
“I don’t know if anyone heard your butterfly taps,” Richard whispered.
“Fine.” I drew back my hand to pound on the door when one side glided open.
“Oui?” Damian, Mrs. Barbery’s stylist from Paris, poked his head out, his dreadlocks swinging around his face. “May I help you?”
His voice was low, so I followed his lead. “We’re looking for Jeremy Johns.”
“Jeremy?” He drew the name out several extra syllables when he repeated it.
“You know . . .” Richard put a finger on his chin and gave a dead-on impression of Jeremy Johns’s haughty look. “This guy.”
Damian pointed a finger at Richard and smiled. “Yes. Jeremy. He is not here.” He looked behind him and lowered his voice even more. “He go to find someone. I think down.”
“Thanks,” I said as Damian closed the door with a small wave.
Richard motioned to the stairs leading further down into the ship. “After you, darling.”
We twisted our way down another spiral staircase to the floor housing all the guest rooms. The hall was narrower and I felt a twinge of claustrophobia. I shook it off. Now was not the time to add a neurosis to my stress.
“Who do you think he was looking for?” I asked. “The only people staying down here so far are Kristie and Brody.”
“And Damian,” Richard reminded me. “But maybe Jeremy didn’t come to this level. Maybe he went to the crew quarters.”
I nodded. “That makes more sense. If he needed help, he’d ask the crew.”
We took the twisting staircase down one more level. It felt as if the ship was shrinking. The open, expansive rooms of the top levels had given way to tight corridors and rows of cabins on each side down below. To one side was a small kitchen and eat-in dining area in the same blond wood as upstairs.
“How many people live down here?” Richard asked.
“Well, there are fourteen permanent members of the crew.”
Richard shuddered. “I wonder where they keep the slave galley with the oars.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said, more to convince myself than him. “The wood is actually light and pretty.”
“I don’t see any sign of Jeremy,” Richard said. “Let’s go back upstairs.”
“We’ve barely looked.” I pointed to a door past the kitchen. “What’s behind that?”
“The dungeons, a horrible sea monster, a deranged relative locked away for safekeeping. Haven’t you learned not to go opening strange doors yet?”
I shook my head at Richard. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”
Richard rubbed his arms and his eyes darted around the low-ceilinged space. “Being down here gives me the creeps. I’m going back upstairs.”
“Wait.” I pointed to a door at the end of the hallway. “What’s down there?”
Richard hung back as I approached the door. “I’d like to go on the record for saying this is a bad idea.”
“Duly noted.” I wrenched open the door and found myself standing at the entrance to a huge storage room. Parallel rows of metal shelving reached to the ceiling and were loaded with stacks of paper goods, boxes of dry food, and even enormous sacks of rice and beans.
“This must be the storeroom,” I said. “Not a deranged captive in sight.”
Richard peeked around my back and gave a low whistle. “They must be able to last a long time on what they have in here.”
“Long enough to make an ocean crossing,” I said, remembering the captain had said they would be crossing the Atlantic after the wedding. “You can’t exactly stop for supplies halfway to Africa.”
Richard pointed to a wide metal door at the far end of the room and to the right. “Now that looks like an important door.”
The door stood slightly ajar, so I pushed it open and found Leatrice standing next to a crate in the middle of a small room. Guns were attached to the walls on all three sides, everything from handguns to what looked like high-powered automatic weapons.
She beamed when she saw us. “There you are.”
“What are you doing here?” I tried not to sound as impatient as I felt. This wasn’t the first time I’d found Leatrice somewhere she shouldn’t have been. At least this time she wasn’t half frozen to death.
“I was just wandering around, checking out the boat. When I found the gun room, I couldn’t resist getting a closer look.”
“Since we’ve found Rambo, can we please get out of this place?” Richard asked. “Being down this deep in the boat makes my skin crawl.”
“I’ve never seen so many guns in real life,” Leatrice said as we made our way back to the spiral staircase.
“Apparently, you need a lot of guns when you have as much art and jewelry on board as these people do.” I shook my head and started walking again. “Can you please try to avoid any more breaking and entering while you’re on board? These people are still my clients for one more day.”
“But the door was cracked open,” Leatrice said. “I just gave it a push.”
“How many times have we heard that before?” Richard said.
He was right. Leatrice claiming to have barely nudged a door open was par for the course.
We reached the top of the stairs and entered the main salon. The entire wedding party stood in the room along with Mr. and Mrs. Barbery, Jeremy Johns, Damian, and Fern. Kristie held a bouquet made out of gift-wrapping ribbons and stood next to the groom. He was the same height as Mr. Barbery but slim with light brown, wavy hair. I’d only met him once, so I gave him a good, hard look to memorize his face. It would be harder to pick him out the next day from a group of groomsmen all dressed the same.
Kate walked over to me with her fakest smile plastered to her face. “Annabelle, we were finishing up the rehearsal so everyone can get to the rehearsal dinner at the Mandarin Hotel.”
I shoved Leatrice behind me, and Richard stepped in front of her to complete the human wall. I knew neither of us wanted to explain who she was and why she was here.
“Perfect.” I looked at the rows of bridesmaids and groomsmen flanking the bride and groom. “Kate is our rehearsal specialist, so you can feel confident about tomorrow’s ceremony. Just remember to relax and not to lock your knees.”
Kate raised her eyebrows at me. Technically, we didn’t have a rehearsal specialist, but it sounded good. “Ladies,” I continued, “don’t forget to be on board by eight a.m. to start hair and makeup. Guys, you don’t need to be here until noon. Have a great time at dinner.”
There was some mumbling about the early start time from the women. Then everyone began to gather their things and make their way out.
Kate had taken on the role of bride’s confessor and was talking to her and patting her hand as she walked her outside. I was glad Kristie had bonded with Kate because it freed me up to coordinate the wedding setup the next day. Kate could be by Kristie’s side, and I could get things done.
“Let’s move away from the stairs,” I said to Richard. He nodded and we shuffled over to one side, keeping Leatrice behind us the entire way.
“Don’t make a sound,” I told her.
“If we back out of the room like this, we can just roll her over the railing,” Richard said. I ignored him.
Mr. Barbery stopped in front of us on his way out. “I want to thank you for everything you’re doing for Kristie’s wedding now that we have a storm bearing down on us. She told me that you’re adding tents.”
“As many as we can,” I said. “It’s our job to make things work.”
“Well, I appreciate it.” He squeezed my shoulder, and I noticed the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiled. “And if you need anything, you let me know.”
“He’s quite charming,” Richard said as we watched Mr. Barbery walk away. “I still don’t understand how he ended up with Cruella De Vil.”
I elbowed him as Mrs. Barbery stalked up to us. “Have you made any progress on fixing this storm issue?”
“I’m doing everything I can. Like I told your husband, we’re adding as many tents as we can fit on board.”
She gave me a critical once-over then her eyes passed over Richard. “You’re both supposed to be the best in the city, you know. I hope you live up to the hype.”
I hated threats veiled as compliments. “I can control just about everything on a wedding day except for the weather, Mrs. Barbery.” I’d given this line to countless brides and parents over the years. “I promise you the wedding will still be beautiful.”
Mrs. Barbery narrowed her eyes at me. “Diamond Weddings beautiful?”
“Absolutely,” Richard said with more enthusiasm than I could muster.
The bride’s stepmother pointed a finger at both of us. “It had better be.”
We both let out a breath once she stomped outside, and we stepped away from Leatrice.
“We’ve got to get you out of here.” I leveled a finger at her. “And you can’t come back.”
“Why would I come back, dear?” Leatrice gave me such an innocent look I felt like strangling her.
“Is this one of your assistants?” Jeremy Johns said, walking over and giving Leatrice a critical once-over. “She seems to fit your team’s style.”
“We can’t all be South of France meets South Blech.” Richard waved a hand to indicate the color cacophony of the room.
“Where is South Blech?” Leatrice asked Kate as she returned from walking Kristie off the ship.
A pink flush filled Jeremy’s cheeks. “If I were you, I’d watch my step.”
“I think it’s you who should be afraid of us.” I snapped my fingers. “We could ruin you just like that. What will all your fancy clients say when they find out you’re a fraud?”
“And have bad taste?” Kate gave him a snarky smile.
Jeremy turned on his heel and stomped down the staircase.
“What was that about?” Fern asked as he joined us.
“We were convincing Jeremy to play nice by threatening to tell the world about his bad taste,” Richard said. “And that he has no design background.”
Fern put a hand to the peacock blue silk ascot at his throat. “No wonder he’s upset.”
“Annabelle went straight for the juggler,” Kate said.
Richard sighed. “Jugular. Straight for the jugular.”
