Marriage, Monsters-in-Law, and Murder

by Sara Rosett

  The guy with the mustache let out a low whistle. “Donny isn’t going to be happy about that.”

  “Or Markham.”

  The young guy hooked his arm over the seat and leaned closer. “But I don’t see how that could be. You know how Donny is. So particular about the morning maintenance check. He wouldn’t send a cart out without a lug nut, especially since Markham started that ‘never give a guest a reason to be unhappy’ thing.”

  The man with the mustache shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t Donny who missed it. He can’t check every cart himself.”

  “You think it was that new guy—” The younger employee broke off as the deputy approached the cart. The ride through the darkening forest was silent except for the rev of the little motor.

  When we arrived at the main building, the two employees courteously stepped back and let me enter first. The deputy who had driven the golf cart escorted us through a side entrance, up a set of stairs, then down a long hall. The resort employees were told to wait in the hall, while I was instructed to go through a set of double doors. I stepped into a large room with paintings of beaches and the resort. Redding sat at one end of a long conference table. He motioned me into a seat near him. “Ellie Avery, is it?”

  “Yes, that’s me.” I sank into the cushy swivel chair.

  “I spoke to your husband earlier, so I have your contact information.” Redding confirmed the spelling of my name, then said, “Take me through what happened this afternoon.”

  I summarized how we’d arrived at the ruin, eaten lunch, and then intended to explore the ruin. “That’s when Ned left. We were able to see him drive away from the terrace. We all saw the golf cart turn over, but we had no idea how bad the crash was until we reached it.”

  “Yes, the injury rate associated with golf cart accidents is much higher than most people realize.” Redding spoke as he made some notes, then he looked up. “And did you know Mr. Blackson before this weekend?”

  “No.”

  “But you didn’t like him.”

  “Why would you say that?” I asked cautiously.

  “Because you sounded repulsed when I asked if you knew him.”

  I sighed. “Well, I know it’s in bad taste to speak ill of the dead, but he hit on me and several other women at the bachelorette party last night. It was . . .” The word that popped into my mind was icky, but I replaced it with “inappropriate.”

  “Hmm. Besides yourself, who else was on the receiving end of his . . . attention, shall we call it?”

  I hesitated, and Redding said, “Mrs. Avery, the man is dead. I need to reconstruct what happened yesterday.”

  I wished I hadn’t opened this line of questioning, but there was no going back now. “Yes, of course. He and Yvonne seemed to get on really well.” That was as innocuously as I could phrase it, but I had a feeling Redding was reading between the lines.

  “And did Mr. Blackson’s attentions to Yvonne continue today?”

  “He did talk to her at the ruin after we ate. He sat beside her for a while on the terrace at the ruin, but, to be fair, things were winding down then. He had worked the whole morning, taking candid pictures of all of us by then.”

  “Anyone else?” Redding persisted.

  “That he hit on? No, he definitely flirted with Yvonne quite a bit yesterday, but I didn’t see him doing that with anyone else. The only other person who I saw him speak to for any length of time was Patricia. He certainly wasn’t flirting with her.”

  “I imagine not.”

  “Patricia looked upset, quite angry, in fact,” I said, thinking of her expression right before he left the ruin.

  “Could you hear what they discussed?”

  “No.” I debated telling about the look on Patricia’s face when we realized that Ned wasn’t just unconscious, but dead. But it was only an impression, my interpretation of her expression. I could be totally wrong about the way I read her face, but then I remembered the incident in the kitchen after the bachelorette party and decided I had to at least mention that. It wasn’t a feeling or impression. It had happened. Angry words had been exchanged. “There was another time, I heard them arguing,” I said, and went on to summarize what I’d heard, which wasn’t much.

  Redding’s expression didn’t change, but he made a note, then said, “Do you know who hired Ned Blackson?”

  “Summer, I imagine.”

  “You don’t know? I understood that you were the wedding planner.”

  “No, I’m only managing the last-minute details. Summer made all the hiring decisions before I was involved.”

  “I see. Now, let’s go back to the time after you arrived at the ruin for lunch. Did you notice anyone wander off? Anyone go missing for a time?” Redding asked.

  “No, I don’t think so, but I wasn’t keeping track . . . well, only of Patricia and Yvonne.”

  Redding raised his eyebrows.

  “They don’t get along, and to help out Summer, I was making sure that they . . .” I searched for an innocuous way to describe the situation.

  “Didn’t come to blows?” Redding finished for me.

  “You could say that,” I said reluctantly.

  “Not surprising, really,” Redding said. “Get this many people together and there’s bound to be someone who doesn’t like someone else. Add in the element of the wedding and that only makes things more stressful.” Redding got back to his notes. “No one went down to the path area where the golf carts were parked?”

  “No, not that I noticed. I think everyone was always around the tables, but I could have missed someone. Even when you’re trying to watch someone, it’s hard to keep an eye on them all the time, especially when it’s two people. I suppose Patricia or Yvonne could have left and I could have missed it.”

  “Did you see anyone in the forest who wasn’t part of the group?”

  “There was a golf cart in the forest. We all saw it from the terrace when we went up to explore the ruin.”

  “Who was driving?”

  “It was too far away to tell. I couldn’t even see if there was more than one person. It was just a bit of white moving through the trees. Oh, that reminds me. There was something caught on the golf cart roof. I noticed it as Ned drove away. It was white, maybe a piece of fabric or something like that.”

  Redding nodded. “Decoration. A net type of fabric along with some gold ribbons.”

  “Tulle and gold ribbons?” The chair creaked as I leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table. “With a sign with the words bride and groom?” I asked with a sinking feeling.

  “I don’t know if there was a sign. Only the fabric and ribbons were visible at the crash scene. The golf cart won’t be moved until the techs are finished with the scene, then we’ll know if there was a sign as well.” Redding folded his hands, all his attention on me.

  “There will be. A sign, I mean.” I closed my eyes briefly. “There was only one golf cart decorated with fabric and ribbons, the one for Brian and Summer.”

  Tips for an Organized Wedding

  Create a timeline for the wedding day. List when each person needs to arrive, building in plenty of cushion, in case someone gets caught in traffic or forgets something and has to double back. Also give directions on where everyone should go before the ceremony. A map might be helpful, if everyone in the wedding party isn’t familiar with the event location.

  Chapter Seven

  “And that fact seems to worry you.” Redding reached for a tray positioned at the center of the table with a silver pitcher covered in condensation. He poured a glass of water and set it in front of me. “You’re very pale. Are you feeling okay?”

  I grimaced. “No, I’m worried. Extremely worried.” I sipped the icy water. Summer wanted to keep the “incidents” quiet, and I had promised not to talk about them, but I really didn’t have a choice. Not now. I had to tell Redding about the paintball and the poison ivy. He needed to know that a mean-spirited prank might have led to the death of the photographer.


  I set the glass down carefully. “I overheard some of the resort employees talking about missing lug nuts . . . ?”

  Redding sighed and folded the notebook over his pen. “That is confidential information. I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention it.”

  “So the wheel was tampered with.”

  Redding didn’t reply. Instead, he folded his arms. “Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you instead of trying to figure out where the investigation is going? You know, most people just want to answer my questions and get out of this room as quickly as possible. Why are you asking so many questions?”

  “I don’t suppose Summer Avery mentioned any problems or difficulties she’s had since arriving?”

  “Summer Avery. That would be the bride. Your sister-in-law.” I nodded, and he shook his head. “No, she was one of the people ready to get out of here. At the time, I thought it was understandable. What bride wants to answer questions from the police a few days before her wedding? But I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have dismissed her so quickly.”

  “No, it’s nothing to do with Summer,” I said quickly. “Well, not anything she’s done. It’s because she’s the bride, because she’s marrying Brian.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “I’m sorry. Let me start with the paintball incident.”

  Redding’s eyebrows flared. “By all means. Let’s start there.”

  I described the paintball incident, the poison ivy, and Julia’s stalkerish behavior after Brian broke up with her. Only a few minutes into my narrative, Redding uncrossed his arms and jotted notes. “I didn’t mention it earlier because Summer specifically asked me not to. And I’m sure she didn’t realize the connection with the golf cart being the cart reserved for them. I know I didn’t even look at the golf cart after the accident, except in a passing glance. All my attention went directly to Ned . . . and he looked so awful. Well, it was a shock, and I looked away. I didn’t look back or study the scene. Summer probably did the same thing. I’m sure that if she’d realized what had happened she would have mentioned it.”

  Redding tapped his pen against the table for a moment, his gaze focused on his notes. “But why keep the paintball and the poison ivy under wraps?”

  “Well, I think at first Summer was angry.”

  “Angry?”

  “Not in a vicious way,” I said quickly. “She didn’t like that someone was messing with her. Anyway, Summer didn’t want to give Julia the satisfaction of letting Julia see she’d riled her in any way.”

  Redding studied his notes for a moment, then looked up. “And you’re sure it was Julia?”

  “Well, no. Not positive, but who else would it be?”

  * * *

  By the time I’d answered all of Redding’s questions, the sun had set and everyone was gathered on the beach around a large bonfire. Despite the death of the photographer earlier, the atmosphere wasn’t gloomy, which I supposed was to be expected. As far as I knew, none of the wedding party had been personal friends with Ned, and, except for Yvonne, he hadn’t spent much time with anyone else.

  I spotted Yvonne sitting by herself up near the dunes. I did what had become an automatic check of the area, looking for Patricia, but didn’t see her anywhere. Maybe she’d decided to skip the bonfire. She wasn’t fond of being outdoors, and I could imagine that getting sand in her shoes wouldn’t appeal to her.

  I greeted Mitch’s parents on my way across the sand. They were seated on rough wooden benches that were positioned in a semicircle around the fire. The Avery clan had arrived in force and the golden glow from the fire flickered over the adults on the benches and on the kids sitting closer to the fire making s’mores. I ruffled Nathan’s hair and squeezed Livvy’s shoulder, but they were busy roasting marshmallows with their cousins. Uncle Bud was supervising the kids, and I felt confident leaving that duty to him. With his phoenix arm tattoos and no-nonsense manner, he would make sure the kids didn’t get too near the fire. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were scattered around the outer rim of the circle of the fire’s light, lounging on the sand closer to the water, which swirled up the beach. The sea stretched out, dark and empty, to the horizon with only the moonlight glinting on the waves. The warmth of the afternoon had vanished with the sunset, and I was glad I’d stopped by our hotel room to pick up a sweater.

  I found Mitch at a wooden picnic table between the bonfire and the dunes.

  “Hey,” he said as I sat down. “I saved you a plate.” He pushed over a plate with shrimp, corn on the cob, and potatoes.

  “Thank goodness. I didn’t think I was hungry, but suddenly I’m starving.” I picked up a shrimp. “Where’s Summer? I need to talk to her.”

  “She was here with Brian, but a deputy came and got her. Said they had more questions for her. Brian went with her.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid.”

  Mitch wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You didn’t tell the detective about Julia, did you?”

  I raised my eyebrows. Julia and Graham weren’t too far away from us, snuggled together on a single rustic chaise longue. Julia had changed into denim shorts and a loose-weave sweater over a tank top. Graham, again, looked sloppier in a wrinkled white oxford shirt over a pair of shorts similar to a pair that I had bought for Mitch, but had to return because he wouldn’t wear them. Mitch had taken one look at the designer plaid shorts and said, “No way. Real men don’t wear plaid unless they are in Scotland.”

  With the glow of the firelight on Graham and Julia, they looked content and happy. How could she sit there, looking so content? If she’d engineered an accident that turned fatal, shouldn’t she look at least a little worried?

  “I had to.” I kept my tone low and tilted my head so that I was turned slightly away from Brian and Julia. “The golf cart that crashed today, it was the one Brian and Summer were using. Someone had loosened a lug nut on it.”

  Mitch rubbed his forehead for a moment and blew out a sigh. “How do you find out this stuff?”

  Between bites of shrimp and corn, I described my ride back with the resort employees. “It’s not my fault that they couldn’t stay quiet. And all I did was tell Redding that there was something caught on the top of the golf cart—remember, I mentioned it when we watched Ned leave? Redding was the one who told me the golf cart was decorated with ribbons. I didn’t even notice it after the crash. One glance at . . . Ned and I couldn’t look back.”

  “No, I didn’t notice it either. It was the shock of it. We were all overwhelmed by what had happened.” Mitch glanced at Julia then said, “So you think it was another prank?”

  “I hate to say it, but yes, I think so. I mean, it fits the pattern. Julia probably wanted to embarrass Summer or, worse, hurt her. Dumping her out of the golf cart would achieve at least one of those goals, maybe both. You have to admit that Summer has handled the paintball and poison ivy really well. If you didn’t know what had happened, you’d never suspect someone had tried to put a damper on this event.”

  A childish shriek came from near the fire and Mitch and I both jerked our attention that way, but it was only one of the cousins holding a wire coat hanger that had been refashioned into a marshmallow toasting tool, but this marshmallow had been toasted a little too long. It was flaming. Uncle Bud took the wire coat hanger and blew the fire out, then proceeded to eat the marshmallow. The girls groaned or murmured, “How gross,” while the boys looked on with admiration.

  Mitch and I exchanged smiles, then he gazed out across the water and said, “If Julia did plan to cause trouble this weekend, that would mean she would have to have a socket wrench with her today on the tour.”

  “Well, she apparently packed a paintball gun and poison ivy. I mean, you can’t say she wasn’t prepared, which makes it worse,” I said, wiping my greasy fingers on a paper napkin.

  Mitch looked over at the chaise longue. “She doesn’t look like a woman obsessed with breaking up her old boyfriend and his fiancée.”
>
  “No,” I agreed as I watched the cuddling couple. Julia was snuggled onto Graham’s shoulder, her dark hair spilling out over the edge of the chair. Graham had tilted his golden head so that it was resting on hers. They looked like one of those commercials for expensive perfume that deluge the airways around Christmas, which always seemed to feature incredibly good-looking people doing outdoor activities like horseback riding, rock diving, and walking on the beach.

  “She does look smitten,” I said as Julia tilted her head back to get a better look at Graham’s face. She gazed at him as if she couldn’t get enough of him. “If I didn’t know what happened yesterday, and about her history with Brian, I would never think she might have been involved in what happened at the ruins.”

  “But we do know,” Mitch said with a sigh.

  “And that’s why I had to tell Redding.”

  “Yes, of course you had to tell him. The golf cart wreck goes way beyond a prank.”

  “I know.” I looked back toward Julia. If she had planned the wreck that killed a man, she didn’t look the least bit regretful. “I don’t know if it’s scarier to think that she did do it and is acting like nothing happened, or that she didn’t do it. . . .”

  “Then who did?”

  Nathan bounded up to the table holding the wire coat hanger that he’d been using to toast marshmallows. “You have to come make a s’more. If you don’t come now, all the chocolate will be gone, and the fire is dying down.”

  “Then we don’t have a moment to lose,” I said as Mitch and I stood. We joined the kids around the fire. I limited myself to one deliciously melty s’more, then handed off the coat hanger to Nathan. Livvy came and asked if she could go back to the resort with the older kids. “The library has a cabinet full of board games. The guy at the check-in desk said it was okay for us to play with them, but we didn’t have time today.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Mitch said.

  Livvy spun away, her face excited.

  “Stay with the group. We’ll come get you in an hour,” I called as she hurried away, her footsteps kicking up bits of sand. Her high-pitched “Okay, Mom” floated back as she joined the group moving up the path through the dunes back to the resort.