by Laura Durham
His mention of getting ready pulled my attention back to the wedding setup. I scanned the walled garden that stretched in front of us, stepping to the side as a waiter rolled a folded-up table by us.
Centered on the high brick wall, the portico that would serve as our ceremony backdrop had a curved alcove flanked by two tall stone urns. The alcove had a curved stone bench and three recessed nooks that held classical sculptures. It was the perfect setting for a ceremony and needed very little adornment, so Buster and Mack had kept it simple, bringing in a collection of plants and trees in pots to accent the alcove and skipping fresh flowers. Not that cut flowers would last long outside anyway.
Vintage couches and armchairs took the place of ceremony chairs and were arranged in groupings facing the alcove, with more plants and trees creating an aisle down the brick path. Off to one side, under the shade of a large tree and next to a small fountain, stood a wooden bar topped with glassware and a white, claw-foot bathtub.
I spotted Buster in black leather pants, a white T-shirt, and a black leather vest adjusting a beige, tufted love seat. He saw me and his face broke into a smile.
“What do you think?” he asked, lumbering over to us.
“It’s perfect,” I said, standing on tiptoes to give him an air kiss. “Much better than regular folding chairs.”
Buster gave Reese a firm handshake then stroked a hand down his dark-brown goatee. “Especially since it’s such a small wedding. Chairs would have gotten lost on the lawn.”
Neither Leatrice nor Sidney Allen had any family and not many friends, so the guest count was on the intimate side. After learning that Leatrice had left her past behind and changed her identity, I now understood her lack of family.
Buster called Mack over, and the second burly biker florist appeared with a baby on his hip. I wasn’t surprised to see the baby girl, who wore a pink sundress and a matching bonnet and giggled happily when she saw us. Buster and Mack had become surrogate fathers to the child when they’d decided to help out the baby’s teenaged mother. Prue lived in the apartment over Buster and Mack’s Georgetown flower shop and helped them out when she wasn’t in class. In return, they watched baby Merry and helped Prue juggle the demands of being a single mother.
I glanced around. “Is Prue here?”
Mack motioned with his head. “She’s inside where it’s cooler.” He looked down at the baby. “I just brought Miss Fussy outside for a little walk.”
It was a bit odd to hear Mack’s deep voice take on a baby-talk inflection, but I knew both men were dotty over the little girl.
“How’s our bride?” Mack asked, his voice reverting back to its normal tone as the baby tugged on his dark-red goatee.
I hesitated, not wanting to lie outright. “It’s been a little crazy.”
“Wedding day jitters?” Buster asked, giving Merry his finger to squeeze so she wouldn’t hang off Mack’s facial hair.
I didn’t answer, but instead smiled and hoped they would take that as an affirmation.
“I’m surprised to see the best man here.” Mack turned his attention to Reese. “Shouldn’t you be with the groom?”
“I was escorting Annabelle here so she wouldn’t have to walk alone,” he said, taking my hand.
“Because Georgetown is so dangerous in broad daylight,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Both Buster and Mack ignored my obvious sarcasm and beamed at Reese.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Mack said. “Your fiancé can’t get enough of you.”
I smiled, but inside I was fighting the urge to kick my darling fiancé. As if I needed to be escorted around like a damsel in distress. I squeezed Reese’s hand extra hard. “Maybe you should check on Sidney Allen. Kate’s been with him for a while.”
“You might be right. Are you sure you’ll be okay walking back to our place?”
I gave him my most withering look, but he only smiled.
“It’s nice to know chivalry isn’t completely dead,” Mack said.
I was surrounded by helpless romantics. Where was Richard when I needed him?
Buster jerked a thumb behind him. “I’d better get back to work.”
“And I need to get this little lady back inside,” Mack said, jiggling Merry on his hip.
When both men had walked off, I narrowed my eyes at Reese. “Hilarious.”
“Just trying to be convincing,” he said. “But, you’re right. I do need to check on Sidney Allen. I don’t trust Kate with him.”
Usually I would agree. I’d stopped assigning Kate to handle the groomsmen on wedding days because she couldn’t help flirting with them, and then we ended up with a collection of besotted men. That, and she sometimes gave out other people’s phone numbers instead of her own. Sometimes mine. Considering the fact that Sidney Allen could have been her grandfather and had the physique of a Teletubby, I’d thought it was relatively safe. Plus, even though I didn’t fully understand it, I knew Sidney Allen was head over heels for Leatrice.
“Let’s hope she’s used her charm for good and not evil and calmed him down a bit,” I said. “He didn’t look too thrilled about Jimmy.”
“You think?” Reese put his hands on his waist. “I don’t know many men who’d be pleased to have a mobster show up on their wedding day and reveal that their bride had once been a Mob boss’s moll.”
“I beg your pardon?” Richard said, appearing around the corner of the house. “Did you say ‘Mob boss’?”
Chapter 6
“You seem calm,” I told Richard as he stood in front of us with arms folded. Reese and I had taken turns explaining the situation to him, and he hadn’t spoken once the entire time.
He looked from one of us to the other, his head tilted and his lips pressed together. Despite the heat, his powder-blue button-down shirt looked crisp, and his perfectly spiked, dark hair had not drooped.
“Do you think we broke him?” Reese whispered.
“Why wouldn’t I be calm?” Richard finally said, his shrill voice sounding anything but calm. “I’ve just learned that the bride, who also happens to be in current possession of my dog, used to be a gangster’s moll. On top of that, one of her former Mob associates has popped up unannounced mere hours before she’s supposed to walk down the aisle.”
“It’s a bump,” I admitted.
“A bump?” Richard shrieked. “Not only are you telling me we have an extra guest for a seated dinner, which means I’ll need to rearrange the seating plan, but now the event design is all wrong.”
I glanced at the vintage typewriter set up on a tall stack of old-fashioned leather suitcases, a stack of cream-colored paper next to it so guests could type out messages to the couple. “How is the wedding design wrong?”
“A forties-themed wedding for a former moll?” Richard rapidly tapped one foot. “You know how I hate to be predictable, Annabelle.”
“We aren’t planning to announce the fact that Leatrice used to date a Mob boss,” I said. “I think you’re overreacting.”
Richard put a hand to his heart. “You know I never overreact. For example, I haven’t said a word about the fact that you have flying insects in your hair, which shows remarkable restraint on my part.”
Reese glanced at my hair, grinning at me. “He makes a good point.”
“See? Your better half understands,” Richard said. “I’m not making a big deal out of something small, although why you decided to accessorize with butterflies is beyond me.”
I gave an exasperated sigh. “This is all Fern. You know I don’t own hair butterflies.”
“I should hope not,” Richard said, looking at my head and shaking his, then glancing around the garden again. “This is a catastrophe.”
“Is he still talking about my hair?” I whispered to Reese.
“Better not to ask,” Reese whispered back.
“I’ve survived worse than this.” Richard squared his shoulders. “I just wish I hadn’t included miniature cannoli on the dessert buffet.”
&nbs
p; “Personally, I think it’s a good thing that Jimmy the Pencil fits in with the wedding theme,” Reese said.
“You’re right,” I said, snapping my fingers. “We could stick him next to the bathtub gin station, and he’d become part of the decor.”
Richard scowled at me. “I thought we agreed no costumed performers.”
After a performer in costume had tainted Richard’s food at a past wedding, he’d been hostile to the idea of anyone in disguise at his events. If I were being honest, I could do without stilt walkers stepping over me and celebrity lookalikes making me do double takes while I worked. Luckily, I’d convinced Sidney Allen not to use any of his performers for his own wedding since he’d be too busy getting married to coordinate them, and I refused to let him wear his wireless headset on his wedding day.
I took Richard’s elbow and walked him toward the back door, hoping to continue our discussion out of the sun. He may be impervious to heat, but sweat was already trickling down my back. “I was joking. If all goes according to plan, Leatrice’s friend won’t even make an appearance at the wedding.”
Reese held open the wooden door, and we all stepped inside the historic house. I felt a blast of cool air as my eyes adjusted to the soft light in the foyer. The high walls were covered with a celadon-green wallpaper featuring rows of large octagons, and the wooden plank floor had been painted to look like black-and-white marble.
“That’s a relief.” Richard flopped down into one of the bright-green spindle-back chairs lined up near the door. “I’d hate to have PJ put in an awkward situation.”
“PJ?” I asked. “You mean the significant other you’ve been hiding from us?”
Richard huffed out a breath. “Don’t be absurd, darling. I’m not hiding him. He’s just been very busy.”
I gaped at him. “For a year?”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “You know these State Department people. Always jetting off to some place or the other.”
“State Department?” Reese asked. “I thought he was a bartender or an artist.”
“That’s what I thought.” I gave Richard a pointed look. “At least that’s what someone told me originally.”
Richard shifted in his chair. “I may have told a little fib when we first started dating. Only because I knew what would happen if your batty neighbor got wind of his job.”
I thought about Leatrice and her suspicions about people in the government, especially anyone who traveled overseas. “You thought she’d assume he was a spy.”
Richard stood up and tugged at his French cuffs. “You know she would, and I didn’t want her to start following me or bug my apartment or scare him off with her crazy undercover costumes.”
For once, I didn’t think he was overreacting. There was a serious possibility Leatrice would have done at least one, if not all, of those things. I’d personally seen her, wearing a blond wig and a trench coat, trailing neighbors she deemed suspicious.
“Not everyone is as understanding as your fiancé.” Richard gave Reese a nod, and I knew it was his version of a stamp of approval. “I liked PJ and didn’t want to lose him. Or Hermès.”
The little Yorkie was officially PJ’s dog, although Richard had taken on most of the caretaking duties. Not to mention renaming him from his original moniker, Butterscotch. As much as Richard liked to complain about the dog, I knew he’d be devastated to lose him.
“I get it,” I said. I had been lucky Reese had seen past the crazy antics of all my friends, not to mention my own. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I’m sorry, darling.” Richard met my eyes. “I know it isn’t fair that you haven’t met him yet, while I’m practically best friends with your fiancé.”
My fiancé twitched next to me. I knew Reese had made a huge effort to befriend Richard, but I wasn’t sure if he would have called them “best friends.” I made a point not to look at him, for fear his expression would make me laugh.
“It’s okay,” I said. “At least we get to meet him today.”
Richard raised a finger. “If the mobster doesn’t show. PJ may not be a spy, but I can’t have him involved in any situation that might get him into trouble at work. Although at least now we’ve been together long enough that he won’t be spooked by a few oddball friends.”
“Don’t worry,” Reese said. “It’s all under control.”
Richard studied his face. “I must say, Detective. Usually you aren’t involved in our situations from the beginning. I’m not sure if I find this comforting or disturbing.”
“That makes two of us,” Reese muttered.
“Why don’t you come down to the ballroom and see what we’ve done with the tables?” Richard said, turning on his heel and heading to the other end of the long foyer.
Reese held me back with one hand.
“What?” I said, looking down at the hand he clasped.
“This PJ fellow…” he began, his voice low.
“Oh, he’s definitely a spy,” I said. “Richard was right to hide him from Leatrice. Luckily, she’ll be too busy today between being a bride and trying to help her Mob friend change his identity to think about it.”
Reese laughed and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “That’s one of the many things I love about you, babe. You take everything in your stride and always have a solution.”
I felt his kiss all the way to the tips of my toes, and I tightened my grip on his hand. “It comes with being a wedding planner. Like I’ve always said, the military should be sending us overseas to handle delicate diplomatic crises or tricky international conflicts.”
He smiled down at me, his hazel eyes deepening to green. “I, for one, am glad they don’t. I wouldn’t want to be away from you for a single day.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my cheek against his chest. “Don’t worry. Until they assemble the first battalion wedding planner brigade, you’re stuck with me.”
He rubbed my back as he laughed. “I can’t wait to marry you, babe.”
My breath caught in my throat, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I couldn’t do anything but nod and hold him tighter. I planned weddings every day, but the thought of walking down the aisle myself continued to rattle me, which was probably why I’d been dragging my feet about planning my wedding to Reese. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him and want to marry him. I just had a hard time envisioning myself in the role of the bride when I’d been on the other side of things for so long. Part of me wondered if we should run off to the courthouse instead of bothering with a wedding. But what kind of wedding planner eloped?
“Are you coming or not?” Richard called from the other end of the foyer, his hands on his hips.
“Yep,” I said, pulling back from my fiancé and giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, looking at the screen before answering. “Hey, Kate. How’s the groom?”
“Oh, he’s fine,” Kate said.
I heard Sidney Allen talking in the background, and he sounded upset. “Are you sure? He doesn’t sound fine.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Kate said. “It’s the other guy.”
Reese raised his hands in a question, and I shrugged. I didn’t know what my assistant was talking about, but I didn’t have a good feeling about it. “What other guy? Jimmy?”
“Annabelle,” she said, her voice breaking. “I think he may be dead.”
Chapter 7
I took a heaving breath as I rested my hands on my knees and sized up the man crumpled on the floor of Leatrice’s apartment. “This isn’t Jimmy.”
“I never said it was,” Kate reminded me, still holding the door she’d opened when Reese and I had arrived and pounded on it.
I took another look at the dark-haired man wearing a black suit that pulled across his meaty shoulders, grateful for the hallway light as Leatrice’s first-floor apartment didn’t get the natural window light mine did. She’d always told me she kept her blinds
drawn to prevent being spied on by the Russians, but now I suspected there was a different reason for her paranoia.
I glanced over at my fiancé, who was also busy catching his breath as he knelt over the body. We’d run the entire way from Dumbarton House to my apartment building and even though they were only a few blocks apart, the heat made it feel like a marathon. I put a hand to my hair as a decorative butterfly flopped into my face. So much for my wedding day updo.
“He’s not carrying any identification,” Reese said after he’d patted down the body, “which is not a great sign. It means he didn’t want to be identified if he got caught.”
“So we have an unidentified dead body in the middle of Leatrice’s living room?” I said, hearing the tremor in my voice.
“He’s not dead.” Reese stood up and pulled his phone out of his pants pocket.
Kate sagged against the door. “That’s a relief. I didn’t mean to give him such a jolt.”
“You did this?” I asked while my fiancé walked a few steps away into the kitchen as he talked to his partner and ordered an ambulance.
She produced what looked like a black flashlight. “I got this after the last time we were chased by a homicidal maniac. I figured it might come in handy.”
I stepped over the body so I could perch on the arm of Leatrice’s floral print couch. I didn’t want to touch anything, but I also needed to sit.
“A flashlight?” I looked from her to the man on the floor. “You hit him with a flashlight?”
I gave the living room a cursory glance. None of the fussy furniture or knickknacks in the overly decorated room appeared to be out of place, so I had a hard time believing there had been a struggle. Even the tall stacks of paperback mystery novels on the coffee table hadn’t been knocked over.
Kate laughed. “It’s not only a flashlight. It’s also a stun gun.” She held it out. “Want me to show you?”
“No!” Reese and I said at the same time as he rejoined us.