by Laura Durham
“Antonio’s murder proves he had something to do with the first two murders,” I said.
“How do you figure?”
“The actual killer clearly wanted to shut him up because Antonio knew something that could implicate them, but how was I supposed to know? He seemed to have a lot of connections to the first two crimes. Which reminds me, why didn’t you tell me David’s roommate works for you?”
Richard held his palms out, and the truck stopped inches from him. “How is that relevant?”
“Because Rhoda Dendron also was at Cher’s memorial reception and happens to be one of two witnesses who saw the person in all black messing with the gold velvet before Blanche was killed.” I followed Richard over to a patch of grass where he’d left his clipboard.
“Who’s Rhoda Dendron?”
I coughed as I got a whiff of the bug repellant I knew Darla had doused the lawn with so guests wouldn’t be bitten by mosquitos. “David’s roommate. I met him last night at Hotel Rouge.”
“I had no idea my bartender had an alter ego or was at Perry’s for Cher’s reception.” Richard looked up from his clipboard and cocked his head at me. “Wait. You were at Hotel Rouge last night? On purpose?”
“It was Kate’s idea to talk to more people who might have known Cher and Blanche. And it worked. We met Rhoda and saw Hedda Lettuce again.”
“And are you any closer to finding the killer?” Richard asked as he watched gold ladder-backed reception chairs being carried off the truck.
“No,” I admitted. “If Antonio wasn’t the man in black untying the fabric, I don’t know who it was. The only two people who saw him can’t remember seeing his face.”
Richard shook his head. “I think your compulsion to solve things is a sickness, Annabelle. Maybe you should quit planning weddings and go work with your boyfriend.”
“My skill at solving problems is what makes me such a great wedding planner,” I said. “Do you remember how I stitched a bridesmaid into her dress after the zipper popped or the time I covered the ink stain on a wedding gown with chalk?”
“Fine,” Richard sighed. “You’re the MacGyver of wedding planners. That doesn’t mean you should always go looking for trouble.”
“I don’t go looking for it,” I said. “Trouble finds me.”
“Speaking of trouble . . .” Richard motioned to Kate walking across the lawn toward us in a floral print miniskirt and her Wedding Belles shirt knotted at the waist. The heels of her slides sank into the grass with each step, turning her gait into more of a lurch.
Kate handed me a to-go coffee cup when she reached me and leaned on my arm as she pulled her heels out of the ground. “One mocha, as promised.” She looked at the pair of box trucks in the driveway. “Are Buster and Mack inside the house?”
I wrapped my hands around the cardboard coffee cuff and let the heat seep into my fingers. “They were the first ones here. Apparently the floral carousel is giving Buster fits.”
Kate yawned. “How early did they arrive? I feel like it’s the crack of dawn right now.”
Richard shook his head. “It’s after nine in the morning. Of course, not all of us were out bar hopping last night.”
“There was no hopping involved,” Kate said. “And you’ll be pleased to know I had Annabelle and Leatrice home before midnight.”
Richard smirked. “Leatrice went out with you?”
“Don’t ask,” I said, sipping my mocha and tasting the whipped cream on the top. “We couldn’t stop her.”
Kate moved her sunglasses from the top of her head to her eyes. “We probably should have stopped Rhoda from giving her that makeover, though.”
I cringed. “If she’d stopped with the fake eyelashes, it wouldn’t have been so bad.”
“What I want to know is how she managed to get Leatrice’s hair to stand straight out from her head.”
“I think Rhoda was packing hair product in her purse,” I said. “And it must have been some sort of cement because Leatrice’s hair hadn’t gone down any when Reese and I saw her this morning.”
Richard turned slowly toward me. “Reese? Why was Reese with you this morning?”
“He found me at the bar last night to tell me about Antonio and was nice enough to give Leatrice and me a ride home.” I met Richard’s eyes even though I felt my face flush.
“I see how it is.” Richard sniffed. “You’ve moved on. You don’t need Richard anymore since you have tall, dark, and testosterone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous . . .” I began, but he held up a hand.
“I get it. I’m out and he’s in.” Richard’s voice broke. “I remember when you would have invited me to go hunting for suspects with you. I guess now you have him.”
“But you complained the entire time,” I said. “You hate being dragged into investigations.”
“Complaining is part of my charm, Annabelle,” Richard said. “You know that. Anyway, even if I didn’t want to do it, I did it for you.”
I reached for his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt left out.”
“It’s always nice to be asked.” He flicked my hand off his arm and flounced off into the open garage.
Kate gave a low whistle. “Your work husband is not happy about your new boyfriend.”
“Tell me about it. And my new boyfriend is not happy we keep giving him suspects who wind up murdered.”
Kate nudged me. “So did I hear correctly? He left your apartment this morning?”
I ignored her leer. “It’s his new strategy to keep me out of trouble. If he’s with me he figures I can’t be running around getting in trouble.”
“You know Richard’s right, though. He used to consider it his job to keep you out of trouble the same way.” She raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly the same way, but you know what I mean. I’m guessing Richard’s babysitting involved a lot more snark and a bit more cooking.”
I thought back to Richard sleeping over at my place after someone had broken in and ransacked it, even though my back door lock was broken. He’d constructed a wall of bells—favors for a wedding—to alert us in case the burglars returned and had made me breakfast the next morning.
“I’ll fix it,” I said. Even though I was pretty into Reese, I did not want to lose my best friend over him. “There has to be a way to make Richard happy without dumping Reese.”
Kate patted me on the back. “Tell me if you figure it out.”
I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and inspected the weather app, feeling relieved when I saw the forecast for sunny skies on Saturday. A lot of our design for the baby shower relied on us using the backyard pool deck. As good as a rain plan was, it was always a last resort.
“And here I thought this was a good neighborhood.” The voice made me snap my eyes up from my phone.
“What is she doing here?” Kate said, not bothering to lower her voice even though the spot where Tina Pink stood on the sidewalk in front of Darla’s house was well within earshot.
Tina put a hand on the waist of her spandex running tights. “I live here. I thought you two lived in the district.”
I noticed Tina’s thighs didn’t touch and the part of her stomach exposed by her black sports bra was completely flat. More reasons not to like her.
“You live in this neighborhood?” I asked, purposefully not answering her question. The sprawling mansions with wide yards and the occasional gated entrance were not typically where twenty-somethings in the DC area lived. Especially not newbie wedding planners.
Tina flipped her blond ponytail and pointed to the cream-colored house across the street with a pair of curved staircases leading up to the front door and an actual turret on one side. I remembered her mentioning moving into a big new house, but I hadn’t imagined she’d meant this big.
“What does her husband do again?” Kate asked, this time so only I could hear. “I know she doesn’t make enough money planning weddings to afford a chateau.”
I searched my memory. “Nigh
tclubs, I think. Tina mentioned it when we saw her doing that styled shoot. She said he was a bigwig.”
“I don’t think she was exaggerating.”
I watched as a black Mercedes sedan glided past us and turned into Tina’s driveway. She turned without a backward glance at us and bounced up to the car, throwing her arms around the stocky, dark-haired man who emerged. He wound an arm around her waist, and I saw the glint of a gold watch on his wrist and more than one ring on his hand.
“She’s taller than him,” Kate whispered. “And younger.”
“Does it surprise you at all Tina is a gold digger?” I asked, watching as her thick-necked husband glanced over at us as Tina said something in his ear and looked away again.
“Nope.” Kate said. “I’m pretty sure if you look up ‘trophy wife,’ you’ll see Tina’s picture.”
“Jealous?” I asked.
“Not at all. He’s way too Jersey Shore for me.” Kate winked at me. “I’m not worried. I know one day my sugar daddy will come.”
“I think the expression is ‘one day my prince will come.’”
Kate seemed to consider this for a moment. “You say it your way, I’ll say it mine.”
My phone buzzed in my hand, and Reese’s name popped up on the screen.
“Did you leave something at my place?” I asked when I answered, angling my body away from Kate and lowering my voice.
“No,” he said, his voice also quiet. “But thanks for letting me stay over.”
My cheeks warmed. “Of course. It was my . . . I mean, anytime.” I was glad he couldn’t see my face go from faint flush to burning embarrassment.
“Do you happen to know where Richard is this morning?” His voice shifted from flirty to all business.
“Richard? He’s here with me, setting up for the baby shower tomorrow. Why?”
“I need to talk to him about David’s roommate, the one I met last night.”
“Rhoda Dendron? What about him?” I turned back to face Kate and saw her brows raised in surprise.
“Rhoda’s legal name is Matt McKee.”
“Okay, why do you need to talk to Richard about Matt?”
“I thought he looked familiar last night. Even though he’d made it into a beauty mark, the mole on his cheek reminded me of a photo I’d seen.”
My stomach tightened. “What kind of photo?”
“Matt McKee is wanted in Florida for fraud. Mostly stealing credit cards, but he has a rap sheet longer than my arm.”
I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. Was he telling me Richard’s bartender and Blanche’s roommate was a convicted criminal? I walked to the edge of the lawn so the guys unloading the trucks wouldn’t overhear me. “Are you telling me you think he’s the killer?”
Chapter 26
“So is the detective on his way?” Kate asked, joining me at the end of the driveway after I’d slipped my phone into my jeans pocket.
“How much did you hear?”
“Well, you kind of yelled some of your end of the conversation.”
“Sorry. I was startled.” I rubbed my bare arms as the sun slipped behind a cloud. “But, yeah, he’s on his way here now. He sounded pretty sure about this guy, who apparently has a record.”
Kate hooked her arm through mine. “Why don’t we go inside until the police arrive? You look like you could use a drink.”
“It isn’t even ten a.m.,” I said as we walked toward the front door of the house. “I mean, I know we’re at Darla’s house and she’s probably drunk, but I don’t think booze is the answer.”
“Suit yourself.” Kate pointed to my paper cup. “We could make your coffee Irish and no one would ever know.”
I took a sip of the now lukewarm mocha and opened one side of the wood double doors, stepping into the massive foyer with a sweeping ceiling and a crystal chandelier that would look at home in Versailles. A drop cloth covered the marble floor, and orange buckets filled with fresh flowers sat around a wire and oasis structure resembling a carousel complete with four horses.
Mack straightened up from where he bent over the leg of one of the horses, inserting white roses. “I don’t know how they do it for the Rose Parade. We only have a six-by-eight carousel and we’re using over a thousand roses.”
Even though only the bottom third of the wire form was filled with flowers, I could tell it was going to be stunning. “I can’t believe you guys are actually building a floral carousel.”
“Can I ride one of the horses?” Kate asked.
Buster looked up from his crouching position where he was cutting flower stems. “Don’t even think about it.”
I inhaled deeply. One benefit of using a thousand roses—the amazing scent. “The flowers will stay fresh until tomorrow?”
Mack pointed to the spongy green oasis. “The stems are all going into the oasis, which is soaked with water and our floral solution. And we’ll spray the entire thing once we’ve finished.”
I took a few steps and put a hand on Mack’s leather-clad shoulder. “I’m really sorry about Antonio.” Reese had let me call them the night before and give them the news.
Mack patted my hand. “It’s not your fault, honey. He was clearly mixed up in some unpleasant things.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t see through him sooner,” Buster said, standing up to his full six and a half feet. “He worked for us for a long time.”
“You always see the good in everybody. That’s not a bad thing.” I didn’t tell them I wasn’t so sure he’d been mixed up in anything nefarious. I didn’t want to admit my suspicions had been so off base.
“Is that you, Annabelle? Kate?” Darla’s voice warbled in from somewhere in the back of the house.
“Duty calls,” Kate said, waving at Buster and Mack as we left them in the foyer.
We followed the sound of clinking ice cubes down a hall and into the kitchen where Darla sat at her black granite counter munching on a stalk of celery. I felt confused by the vegetable until I noticed the Bloody Mary in her other hand. She wore a leopard print robe and swung her legs from a white bar stool as she peered out the glass walls overlooking her pool deck.
“We didn’t expect you to be up,” I said, knowing Darla loved to sleep in. Some might call it sleeping it off.
Darla waved her celery. “I love to watch a party come together. Do you see what they’re doing to the pool?”
I looked outside where our lighting company had erected a pink-and-white striped pole extending high out of the center of the pool. Pink swaths of fabric draped from the center pole to shorter poles along the sides of the pool. Even though only half the pool was completed, I knew it would soon look like the top of a carousel.
“It’s going to be beautiful,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until it’s done so you’ll get the full ‘wow’ factor?” I’d always felt watching party setup was like watching someone get dressed. It took away a little of the magic.
She shook her head as she slid off the barstool. “What else do I have to do?” She picked up a highball glass and headed for a pitcher filled with tomato-red liquid. “Can I get you a Bloody Mary?”
“Thank you, but no,” I answered for Kate and myself before Kate could speak. “We have a lot of work to do.”
I spotted Richard walking across the pool deck and started for the kitchen door leading outside. I still needed to warn him before Reese showed up. Richard did not react well when he felt he was being ambushed.
“I didn’t know you knew my neighbors,” Darla said as she poured herself a Bloody Mary and stuck her half-chewed celery on the top.
It took me a moment to realize she meant Tina Pink. “We don’t really. I mean, she’s a colleague.”
“At best,” Kate added. “We only met her a week ago.”
“She called here a few minutes ago to ask if we were having a party and mentioned she knew you,” Darla said, swirling her celery around in her drink. “I forget her name.”
“Tina,” Kate said wi
th obvious disdain.
“That’s right. I knew it was something like that.” Darla took a long swig of her drink. “We don’t usually get their type around here.”
Tina was about thirty years younger than most of the Potomac wives I’d met and significantly less polished. Where Darla was St. John suits and designer highlights, Tina was Fredericks of Hollywood and bleached extensions. It was no wonder Darla didn’t like her. I couldn’t help smiling a little at my client’s reaction. If I’d ever worried about my wealthy clients jumping ship for T Pink, I knew now my fears had been unfounded.
“I get the feeling there’s no love lost between you, am I right?” Darla asked.
For someone who was perpetually soused, she had decent radar. “Why do you say that?”
“She wasn’t flattering about you on the phone.” Darla gave a small shake of her head. “She told me I should give her all my future business.”
Kate muttered a few curses under her breath.
Darla drained her glass. “Don’t worry, girls. You know I’ve been thrilled with everything you’ve done for my Debbie. And I promise you I would never hire someone like her. And I’ll make sure my friends don’t, either.”
I felt a rush of affection for the boozy mom and a little silly for ever feeling threatened by Tina. I’d always believed working hard and focusing on your own business instead of worrying about what everyone else was doing was the key to success. I was grateful Darla had reminded me I was right.
Richard stuck his head into the kitchen from the glass door. “A quick question when you have a moment, Annabelle.” He turned his gaze to Darla. “Can I fix you another pitcher of Bloody Marys?”