Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 83
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
“What’s this about Jeremy Johns?” he said, looking at each of us in turn.
Kate rested a hand on his bicep and leaned close to him. “We think he’s your arsonist.”
Daniel raised one dark eyebrow. “Isn’t he the one nobody gets along with?”
“We can’t stand him,” Fern said, lowering his voice and closing the door behind him until it was only open a crack and the sound of laughing girls all but disappeared. “He’s a complete diva with questionable taste. Have you seen the colors he combined upstairs? Gauche meets garish.”
“But that’s not the reason,” I said, shooting Fern a look. I wanted Daniel to take us seriously, not think we were basing our accusation on bad taste in colors. “I discovered Jeremy with a can of lighter fluid in the crew quarters. I think he was trying to set another fire.”
“That does change things,” Daniel said. He pulled a cell phone out of his pants pocket. “I’ll tell Mike.”
“You don’t think he’ll need to shut down the wedding, do you?” I asked.
“He’ll just want him for questioning. Your wedding can go right ahead as planned.” Daniel spoke low into the phone, explaining what we’d discovered about Jeremy. Then he disconnected and slipped the phone back into his pants. “He’s in the middle of something. I’m going to bring Jeremy Johns in for him.”
I felt relieved we could get Jeremy out of our way without flashing blue lights and cops crawling all over the ship. “There’s one small hiccup. We don’t know where Jeremy is. He heard us talking about his motive and ran off. Kate and I were chasing him but he got away.”
“I knocked her off her feet.” Fern winked at me. “She’s the only girl who can ever say that.”
I rubbed my backside, which still smarted from hitting the floor. “Lucky me.”
“So he’s hiding somewhere on board?” Daniel asked.
“Unless he got off the ship,” I said. “He was running toward the back staircase when we were stopped.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll have my guys search the ship.”
Voices came from inside the guest room. Fern poked his head inside for a moment then reappeared. “I have to get back to those two-bit hussies.” He blew us kisses then disappeared inside the room and closed the door.
“He calls everyone hussies,” I explained to Daniel. “Bridesmaids, I mean. Not you. He wouldn’t call you a hussy. Or a tramp.”
“Annabelle.” Kate gave me a pointed look, and I stopped talking.
Daniel grinned, and I was reminded of his brother’s expression every time I embarrassed myself. “I’m going to talk to my team. If you see Jeremy Johns, don’t try to stop him yourself. Call me.”
Kate and I agreed, then he walked off down the corridor. I pulled Kate with me in the other direction. “We need to check on Richard.”
“And give him the latest dirt on Jeremy. It will make his day.”
Kate was right. Richard would take particular glee in knowing Jeremy was suspect number one. We wound our way up the back staircase, passed by a cameraman setting up a tripod, and walked along the outside of the ship until we reached the narrow metal ramp leading to the dock. The rain was coming down in fast, heavy drops, and I made a mental calculation of how wet we’d get making the dash down the ramp and into the catering tent a few feet away. I put my arms over my head and ran forward, slipping a bit on the slick ramp on the way down and catching the rope railing for balance. I skidded onto the dock and pushed through the plastic flaps of the catering tent. Kate was right behind me and bumped into me when I stopped.
The landscape of the tent had changed since I’d been in it earlier. Instead of just Richard, a pair of pantry cooks, one tall and bald and the other short and round with curly dark hair, stood at the tables. They were loading trays of hors d’oeuvres into the warmers as Richard inspected the food. The savory smells hit me the moment I opened the tent flap, enveloping me and making my stomach growl. I’d had a bottled coffee and a banana on the drive in, but had been too nervous and anxious about the day to eat more—a decision I now regretted.
“There had better not be a drop of water on this food,” he said. When he noticed us, he looked up. “Can you believe this? We didn’t even get the food unloaded before the rain started.”
I saw all the trays were covered with plastic wrap. “It looks fine.”
Richard didn’t seem mollified. “For the moment. Now I just have to keep it from wilting until it’s time to serve.”
“That’s not our biggest problem,” I said. “Have you seen Jeremy?”
“Maybe he ran past the catering tent a little while ago?” Kate asked.
Richard crossed his arms. “We’re trying to keep the flaps closed and the rain out. Unless he ran into this tent, I didn’t see him. Why?”
I gave Richard the quick rundown. Kate jumped in with an explanation of our low-speed chase through the ship and Fern knocking me off my feet.
“So Daniel is going to take Jeremy in for questioning,” I said. “But we don’t know where Jeremy ran off to. He could have run off the ship, or he could still be hiding on board.”
“He wouldn’t leave the ship before the wedding,” Richard said. “His ego is too big. He wants to hear everyone say how gorgeous the party is.”
“Do you think anyone will actually say that?” Kate asked. “Have you seen the décor?”
For once, I had to agree with Kate. “If he isn’t already on the lam, the police or the security team will grab him the second he shows his face.”
“Mark my words.” Richard wagged a finger at us. “Jeremy Johns is still on board.”
A man holding a stack of silver trays wrapped in plastic pushed through the tent flaps behind us.
“Perfect,” Richard said. “More trays. Put them down right here.”
Kate and I squeezed to the side to let the man get by us.
“We’d better get back inside,” I said. “We’ll let you know when we’re closer to serving time.”
“Give me at least a thirty-minute warning. It’s going to take me longer to plate up out here.”
Kate pulled back the plastic tent flap. The rain had intensified to hard, stinging drops. I wished all of my umbrellas weren’t safe and dry in my car trunk. Not that umbrellas were much use when the rain blew sideways like this.
“Run for it!” Kate grabbed a nearby napkin, threw it over her head, and dashed past me up the metal ramp. Just before I started after her, I stopped in my tracks. Through the rain I’d seen a figure appear on the top deck then duck back down. I shook my head. It couldn’t be.
Had I really just seen Mandy, the missing chief stew, or were my eyes playing tricks on me?
35
“Did you see her?” I asked Kate once we’d run through the glass door into the casual dining room. I knew I shouldn’t be dripping on the silk carpet, but my pants were soaked and plastered to my legs from the rain flying sideways. I tried to pull them loose so it didn’t look like I was wearing black leggings. They flapped back against my wet skin. So much for looking presentable and professional.
“Who?” Kate dropped the soaking orange napkin on the table, then flipped her hair over and shook a cascade of water droplets onto the floor. Her black dress had been formfitting before it got wet. Now it looked like second skin.
I stepped back to avoid the spray of water as I brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped my bun. “I could have sworn I saw Mandy on the top deck.”
“Now?” Kate tossed her hair back. “Are you sure?”
I wasn’t sure. It had looked just like her when I’d glanced up, although I’d been looking through the rain and the figure had disappeared before I could be certain.
Brody opened the door from the galley kitchen and stepped into the small room, followed by the captain. Brody smiled when he saw us. The captain just nodded.
“How goes the wedding prep, ladies?” Brody asked.
“Great!” Kate smiled back at him, and I wondered what she was talking about. It was pouring rain, we had an arsonist on the loose, and the missing stew may or may not have just appeared back on board.
“You haven’t by any chance seen Jeremy or Mandy recently?” I asked the men.
Brody frowned. “I saw Jeremy this morning, when he was working on the ceremony arch, but not since then. And Mandy? I thought she was missing.”
“I’ve been on the bridge all day monitoring the weather with my first mate,” the captain said. “But if you see Mandy, please let me know. I’d like to talk to her.”
“Annabelle thought she just saw her on the top deck,” Kate said, flipping her hair back and landing a few errant drops of water on my face.
A look of surprise passed over the captain’s face, then he frowned. “I’d better get back to the bridge. They’re saying this is a hundred-year storm.” His Mystic Maven slippers padded on the carpet as he crossed the room to the door leading up to the bridge.
The thought of riding out a hundred-year storm during a wedding on a yacht was not a pleasant one. I pushed aside my growing sense of panic and tried to focus.
“Well, I hope for Mandy’s sake she’s not on board,” Brody said once the captain had left. “The captain’s not too thrilled about his chief stew going missing. And since she left without notice right before the wedding, my mother might want to kill her.”
Brody made a good point. Why would Mandy return after leaving so mysteriously? Especially if there were several people on board who’d be angry with her?
“I’m sure Jeremy is around somewhere,” Brody said, winking at us. “Probably with my mother complaining about everything. Do you want me to tell him you’re looking for him?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “He already knows we’re looking for him.”
“We chased him through the ship until we lost him,” Kate said.
Brody’s eyebrows pressed together. “You must really need to talk to him.”
“It’s not us so much as the security team,” I said. “They need to take him in for questioning about the fire.”
“Really?” Brody looked surprised.
Kate patted Brody’s arm. “It’s a long story, but we think Jeremy Johns started it and may have been trying to start another.”
“Then the police are coming to take him in?” Brody asked.
I shook my head. “Our security chief will take him in. If he finds him.”
“I’ll keep a lookout for you.” Brody stepped back. “I’d hate for Kristie to find out there’s a manhunt on board right before her wedding.”
I gave Brody major points for considering his stepsister’s panic over his mother’s potential hysteria at having her designer dragged off the ship. I hadn’t really thought about how Kristie would react, because I’d hoped to have Jeremy off the boat before she got wind of it. If Fern did his job, the ladies would be entertained and scandalized in equal measure downstairs, not even aware if a fleet of Navy Seals came aboard.
“There you are!” Fern’s head poked through the door leading to the main salon.
I jumped at the sight of him. “What are you doing up here? Is everything all right with the bride?”
“She’s fine,” Fern said. “She was a bit stressed earlier, but those bottles of Dom did the trick.”
“What bottles of Dom?” I asked, getting a sinking feeling in my gut. “What trick?”
“I needed to relax the girls, so I requisitioned some bottles of Champagne from the walk-in refrigerator.” Fern giggled and I could tell he’d been drinking as well as requisitioning.
“The Champagne for the reception?” I asked. “How many bottles?”
Fern waved a hand at me. “Just a flew. Maybe slix or sleven.”
“Slix or sleven?” Kate repeated.
Great. Not only were the bride and bridesmaids probably three sheets to the wind, but also my hairstylist was drunk. I could only imagine what type of styles he was giving these girls. When Fern got tipsy, the hair got big.
I pointed a finger at him. “If you give these girls state fair hair, you are going to be in big trouble.”
Fern pressed a hand to his heart. “I would never in a smillion years—”
“I want to see Kristie in the French twist you did at her trial,” I said in my best I-mean-business voice. “And make sure the TV cameras do not get footage of our bride acting drunk.”
Fern made a pouty face. “Fine. But Kristie and I were thinking of changing to a bouffant.”
“No bouffant!” How drunk was the bride to even consider wearing a bouffant hairstyle for her wedding? “Do I need to come down there and supervise?”
Fern looked affronted. “No. I’ll do the French twist.” His head disappeared then popped back in a moment later. “I almost forgot the reason I came up here. Stepmommie Dearest called all her guests and told them to come early. She wants them on board before the rain really starts.”
“Early?” Kate said. “How early?”
Fern glanced at his nonexistent watch. “Now.”
“But the ceremony doesn’t start for two hours.” I looked at Kate in a panic. What would we do with one hundred fifty guests for two hours? That many people on board would fill every open space.
“Can I go down and drink with Fern?” she asked.
I was starting to think getting drunk and ending up with a bouffant wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.
36
If one hundred fifty wedding guests would be walking on board two hours early, I needed a plan. And the plan couldn’t include me running off the ship and hightailing it to the Mexican border for a life of sunshine and tequila. I glanced out the window at the rain slashing through the air and lashing the ship. The sky was so dark that it felt like nighttime. I had to squint to make out the white catering tent crouched on the dock, the shiny plastic sides trembling as the wind battered them. The wind howled as it whipped torrents of water against the window.
“Fern, can you keep the ladies distracted?” I asked.
Fern raised two fingers to his brow to salute. “You can count on me, Nannabelle.” His Champagne breath was not reassuring.
“But no bouffant,” I reminded him as he left the room, weaving slightly as he walked. I hoped he would make it down the spiral staircase in one piece.
“Kate,” I turned to my assistant, “I need you to go tell Richard we have to move up service. We can’t have people drinking for two hours without food.”
“He’s going to love that,” Kate said. We both knew Richard was a stickler with his timing. Telling him to speed things up by two hours would send him into fits. I was glad not to be the one bearing the bad news.
“I’ll owe you one,” I told Kate, pushing her toward the door.
“You’re racking up quite a tab with me,” she said. “What will you be doing while I’m throwing myself in the liar’s mouth?”
I sighed, not bothering to tell her the word was lion, not liar. “I need to find enough deckhands to escort guests down the dock with umbrellas. Then I need to tell our security team things are about to get more complicated.”
“Once all those guests are on the ship, it will be impossible to find anyone,” Kate said. “If Jeremy Johns is even still on board.”
Kate was right. If Daniel and his team hadn’t located Jeremy by now, the chances of finding him once the ship was packed with people were slim. I followed Kate outside, and as she ran down the ramp to the dock, I hurried to the transom. We’d tented the area to give us more space, and right about now I was glad for every square foot. Two blond deckhands in white pants and navy blue Mystic Maven shirts stood tightening the ties of the tent’s clear sidewalls.
“Hey guys,” I called out. “I need you to escort the guests from the end of the dock to the ship. You have Mystic Maven umbrellas, right?”
The taller blond nodded, but the other shot a look out at the sheets of rain that made it hard to see if there even was an end to the dock.
“Grab any other crew members you need to help you. The guests will be here two hours earlier than we expected.” I left them looking less than thrilled with their assignment and wound my way up the back staircase to the upper deck. The massive ice bar sat under the covered part of the deck, already chilling a dozen bottles of vodka inside, and I was pleased to see the back of the bar had been completely set with glasses. At least guests would be able to drink when they arrived.
I glanced at the glass doors leading into Mr. Barbery’s study. We’d never intended to use it for the wedding, but with the rain eliminating all of our outdoor spaces, I wondered if we should open it up for extra standing room.
Through the glass, I caught a glimpse of a person inside the room and I blinked hard. Even though the glass was reflecting back at me, making it difficult to make out the inside of the room clearly, I could have sworn I just saw Mandy again. I rubbed my eyes. Was I starting to see things?
I pulled open the door and ducked inside. The dark wood and beige leather furniture were a stark contrast from the airy décor of the rest of the ship, and I suspected it was the single space the bride’s father had been allowed a say in decorating. And since Jeremy hadn’t been permitted to unleash his South Beach meets South of France concept on this room, it was now the most tasteful space on board.
My eyes scanned the room. Mandy wasn’t anywhere. There wasn’t another living soul in the compact room, and there was no back door she could have escaped through. Was I losing my mind or were my eyes playing tricks on me? First, I was convinced I’d spotted Mandy on the top deck, and then I thought I saw her in a salon with only one way in or out. I hoped the stress of the wedding wasn’t making me lose it. Even though I joked about brides making me crazy, I didn’t want to add literal insanity to my bag of tricks anytime soon.
I let my eyes wander over Mr. Barbery’s treasure displayed on the built-in bookshelves. I knew it couldn’t be very valuable or it would be kept in a safe, not on exhibit, but I still found the ancient artifacts fascinating. I leaned in close to look at the shimmery coins, the images embossed on them almost too worn away to make out. The clear stand that had held the antique gun was missing entirely, and several books had been pushed over to fill the empty space. Even if the gun had been used to kill the harbormaster, it was probably at the bottom of the Potomac by now.
