by Laura Durham
We’d only been riding in the vintage buggies for a few minutes since leaving the monkey forest, but our driver had announced that we’d arrived at the rice paddy overlook where we were having lunch. I concluded that we must still be near the town of Ubud since we’d only driven a few miles, and I knew Ubud was renowned for its terraced rice paddies.
I waited for a stream of cars to pass before I could cross the road to follow Richard, coughing a bit from the exhaust fumes. Ubud had more traffic than I expected, by foot and by car, and I dodged a group of women carrying yoga mats once I’d reached the other side of the road. One thing that Bali did not seem to have was people honking their car horns. No matter the traffic jam, Balinese drivers didn’t touch their horns. I considered this a mark in the win column for the island.
I walked a few steps down, following the wooden signs for the restaurant and the disappearing form of Richard. As I turned and stepped out onto a wooden platform covered by a thatched roof, I forgot about chasing down my friend and took a moment to take in the breathtaking vista.
The restaurant overlooked a wide hill sloping toward us in a series of terraces cut into the soil, making it look like a verdant staircase. The top of the hill was covered in thick vegetation with tall palm trees springing up from the base. The terraces undulated around the curves of the hill, the stalks of the growing rice creating a carpet of bright green as far as I could see. Where the terraced steps weren’t green, they were soaked with water, tiny shoots of rice plants barely breaking the surface. I breathed in the moist air, wondering if it would soon rain.
“You made it!” Buster’s rumbling voice jerked me out of my moment’s peace.
I jerked my head to the left and saw him standing with Mack next to a long rectangular table that stretched from one end of the covered platform to the other. The platform itself jutted out over the terraced rice fields, giving me the sensation of floating above them. The table had been draped in a white-linen cloth that reached the floor and was surrounded by rattan chairs. A low wooden trough of moss extended down the middle of the table and was dotted with white orchids. In front of each chair lay a place mat woven out of green palm fronds, and on top of that sat a square white basket covered with a lid and tied with a white tag. I bent over one of the tags and read a name in gold swirling calligraphy that shimmered in the sunlight.
“Did you do all of this?” I asked, straightening up and giving them both a quick peck on the cheek. Both men wore their usual black leather pants, but white Balinese shirts with short sleeves, Nehru collars, and brown buttons had replaced their vests with chains. It was a jolting combination.
Mack held up his hands. “I might have gotten carpal tunnel syndrome from all the weaving.”
“We kept the decor low since the view is the main attraction,” Buster said.
I glanced again at the sweeping rice terraces. “I can see what you mean. You don’t want anything to block this vista.”
Mack leaned close to whisper in my ear. “The seats are assigned, but we were able to switch you around so you aren’t sitting anywhere near Jeremy or Sasha again.”
“Thanks,” I said, although I wouldn’t have minded getting a chance to question Jeremy about just how vengeful he’d felt toward the two murder victims.
I looked down the row of chairs to where Richard had taken his spot next to Chatty Cathy, nodding as she talked to him. He must really want to avoid my questions about Reese if he was voluntarily subjecting himself to her verbal onslaught. I decided to drop my questioning for the moment and enjoy the lunch and the surroundings. The last thing I wanted to do was to miss experiencing Bali because I was obsessed with the murder investigation and Jeremy Johns.
“You’re over here, Annabelle,” Kate called from the far end of the table, motioning to a seat between her and Brett that faced the overlook.
When I reached the chair, Brett patted it. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you since yesterday. Are you okay?”
I nodded as I sat down next to him. “I’d rather not find any more dead bodies, but I’m fine.”
“You and me both.” Brett winked at me, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and I noticed for the first time how blue his eyes were. Combined with his blond hair and tan, they made him quintessentially Californian.
“Did you know that Dina only drank flavored water?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
“Sure,” he said, untying the ribbon around his box. “She even carried those little squeeze bottles of flavor drops in her purse. Like one of those people who carries around their own salad dressing.”
“So it was common knowledge?”
Brett laughed. “I think anyone who ever shared a meal with her would have noticed.”
So much for narrowing down the field.
Kate took the seat next to me, and Fern waved from across the table where he sat next to a woman I didn’t recognize with feathery brown hair. I tried to catch Richard’s eye, but he seemed unable to escape his conversation with Cathy. Jacob and Katherine were together again, and I spotted Alan sitting next to Kristina. He pointed to the silver flask peaking out of his shirt pocket as he raised his eyebrows at me. I smiled and shook my head, although the idea of a spiked drink was appealing. Although it might be nice to take the edge off interacting with some people, I wanted to keep my head clear as I pondered potential suspects.
A hand reached around me, unfurling my napkin and draping it across my lap. I twisted around and couldn’t help being surprised when I recognized one of the waiters from our resort. I turned all the way around and realized that all of the waiters were from our resort.
“They bussed them in,” Brett said when he noticed my expression.
“Our waiters followed us to Ubud?” Kate asked, following my gaze at the row of waiters standing behind us in white Nehru jackets and black pants.
Like Buster’s and Mack’s outfits minus the leather, I thought.
“Have you looked inside your box?” Brett asked me.
I wiggled the cover off the square basket and set it to the side. Inside was an artfully arranged box lunch with sealed containers of salad, cold noodles, and French macarons in a range of pastels. “Was the food transported here with the waiters?”
“I think so.” Brett popped open the plastic lid to his noodles.
Kate nudged me in the side. “That’s him.”
“That’s who?”
Kate pointed to a waiter standing against the wall. “That’s the waiter who delivered the drink to Dina yesterday.”
I studied the Balinese man with shiny black hair parted neatly to one side. “Are you sure?”
Kate narrowed her eyes. “Pretty sure. He was also one of the bartenders at the welcome dinner.”
“So he’s been at the scenes of both murders?”
“Yes,” Kate said. “But so have a lot of people in this room, including us.”
I pushed my chair back from the table. “Touché.”
“You’re going to talk to him now?” Kate asked, glancing around as people began eating.
“No time like the present.”
I walked around the table to where the man stood, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked.
“I hope so,” I said, trying to keep my voice low so it couldn’t be overheard. “You were serving drinks yesterday at the beach, right.”
He nodded, but looked wary.
“You were told to deliver a drink to the woman who died, right?”
His face paled. “I already talked to the police.”
“I know. I just wanted to know who asked you to deliver it. Do you remember what they looked like?”
He shook his head. “The request was written out on hotel letterhead and was sitting on a tray with the drink when I came back to the service station. It looked official to me.”
“And you didn’t see anyone put it there?”
Another shake of the head. It was clear from the
man’s face that he knew nothing. I thanked him and returned to my seat.
Kate looked at my expression. “No luck?”
“The delivery request was written on hotel letterhead. He didn’t see the person who left it or the drink.”
Kate tapped her bamboo fork against the side of her basket. “That does tell us one thing. It wasn’t a crime of passion. The killer is good at planning.”
I looked up and down the long table. “So that narrows our suspect list down to everyone.”
Chapter 16
“Not everyone,” Kate said. “For one thing, we know it wasn’t any of our team. And I doubt Carol Ann would sabotage her own trip.”
“And the guys from Insider Weddings wouldn’t sponsor a trip just to go on a killing spree,” I added. “Plus, they’re way too sophisticated and charming to be murderers.”
“So we’re looking for an unsophisticated, ill-mannered rube among a group of world-renowned wedding planners?” Kate asked. “That should be easy.”
Kate made a good point. No one on this trip fit the mold of serial killer. I removed my box of macarons, setting them to the side as I peered down the length of the table. Everyone from our group had taken a seat, and I spotted Jeremy at the other end of the table next to Dahlia. The blond assistant did not look thrilled to be beside him, and even from this distance I noticed her left eye twitch.
“Has Carol Ann’s assistant ever been to Inspire?” I asked, turning in my seat to face Brett.
Brett scanned the table until he spotted Dahlia, then shook his head. “The blonde who looks perpetually overwhelmed? Nope. I don’t think she’s worked for Carol Ann for more than a year tops, and this is her first job. Why?”
“She doesn’t look happy to be next to Jeremy. I wondered if she’d met him before or if her dislike was new to this trip.”
Brett stirred his noodles with his bamboo fork. “That guy? I don’t think anyone is happy to be stuck talking to him whether they’ve met him before or not. Luckily, I knew to steer clear after knowing him at Inspire.”
“But you didn’t hang out with his group?” I asked, waiting for Brett to swallow his bite before he could answer.
He shook his head. “Not by a long shot. Any group whose sole purpose is to hook up and convince other people to do the same is not for me.”
I cringed. “Is that what their big sex scandal was about?”
“Which one? I feel like they caused a scandal just about every year. Usually by themselves, but sometimes they liked to play matchmaker.”
I opened my square plastic container of salad then hunted around the bottom of my box for the fork. “Do you remember why the other people in the group decided to ostracize Jeremy?”
Brett shifted in his seat. “Did they? I guess I wasn’t hooked in enough to know the details.”
“It just seems coincidental that two of the women Jeremy used to pal around with turn up dead after they stop being friends with him.”
“Don’t get me wrong,“ Brett said, “I’m not a fan of Jeremy’s, but do you think he would kill two people over a spat at a wedding conference?”
I thought Jeremy Johns would kill someone for stealing his parking space, but I didn’t say that to Brett. I took a bite of mixed greens tossed in coconut vinaigrette and marveled at how crisp the leaves were. Had they packed these boxes in ice? As I took another bite of the refreshing salad, I looked down the table and noticed that Dahlia had left her seat.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Kate.
“Where are you going now?”
“I want to talk to Jeremy. I think he has more of a motive than he’s been letting on.”
“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Kate dropped her voice. “People have already heard that we’ve been involved in murder investigations before. It might not look so good for us to be poking around.”
I waved away her concerns. “I’m not poking around in the case. I just want to talk to him.”
“Isn’t that six in one, six dozen the other?”
I paused for a moment. “Something like that.”
I left Kate and made a beeline for the vacant chair next to Jeremy, pausing to sidestep a waiter. Jeremy spotted me and we locked eyes, then he pushed away from the table, knocking his chair to the floor. I picked up the chair as I passed by, following Jeremy as he hurried down a spiral staircase at the end of the platform. I cursed under my breath. Why was he running from me?
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was on ground level with the rice paddies extending below me then rising up the hillside. I swept my gaze across the field and spotted Jeremy dodging behind some low bushes with wide fan-like leaves. I followed him, pushing back the foliage to reveal a dirt path leading down and saw Jeremy skidding down it.
“I just want to talk to you,” I called out to him.
He turned around, leveling a finger at me. “Leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you or your crazy crew.”
“Hey,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “My crew isn’t crazy. Especially since Leatrice isn’t with us. And why are you mad at me? You’re the one who’s been talking trash about us.”
“I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to pin all this on me because I knew those two floozies. Well, I’ve worked too hard to build my name back up to let that happen.” He gave me a look of pure venom and took off across one of the terraced rows.
I sighed but decided to follow him. If he was this upset, he must have something to do with the murders. Or at least know something.
I took the slope at a run, holding my arms out for balance, and paused at the bottom to right myself.
“Look out below,” Mack said moments before I turned to see him barreling down the steep path with Buster fast on his heels.
I jumped out of their way and they stumbled past me, catching each other before they careened off one of the grassy ledges. “What are you guys doing?”
“It looked like you might need some help,” Buster said, pointing at Jeremy’s retreating back.
Mack grinned. “And we’re good at tackling people.”
“I know.” I remembered very well the duo capturing a suspect in a past investigation by landing on top of him. “But I don’t want to make a scene. I just want to ask Jeremy a couple of questions.”
“Just in case you need someone to tackle him, we’re here,” Mack assured me.
Since Buster and Mack despised Jeremy Johns as much as any of us, I knew they were hoping for an opportunity to face plant him in a rice paddy.
“Then let’s go.” Buster waved for me to follow him, so I ran after the two beefy men as they lumbered across the rice fields.
Jeremy looked back and shrieked when he saw the three of us approaching.
“Why is he running?” Buster asked over his shoulder.
I wasn’t sure why he’d taken off running from me in the first place, but I could understand why he ran now. Being chased by two three-hundred-pound bikers, albeit ones who belonged to a Christian biker gang, might make me want to run.
I felt the ground tremble as Buster and Mack pounded down the dirt path. Jeremy looked over his shoulder again, letting out a high-pitched yelp before he stumbled and went down face first in a soggy plot of rice seedlings. I skidded to a stop, cringing as Mack, who couldn’t contain his grin, lifted the fussy designer from the mud.
“Look what you’ve done,” Jeremy spluttered. “My suit is ruined.”
I shook my head. “It isn’t my fault you ran. All I wanted to do was ask you a couple of questions about the two victims.”
Jeremy wiped at his dripping face with a wet hand. “You don’t know when to mind your own business, do you? I didn’t have anything to do with those murders, but you want to know something?” He jerked his arm out of Mack’s grip. “Those two women got what they deserved. I’m not the only person here who knows why, either. And if you’re not careful, you’ll get what you deserve just like they did.”
With that he sto
mped off, leaving me with my mouth open.
Chapter 17
“It was like watching a slow speed car chase,” Kate said, flopping across my bed once we’d returned to the resort.
I dropped my tote on the marble floor near the nightstand and crossed to the sliding glass door, pushing it open and sucking in the salt-tinged air as I listened to the sounds of people splashing in the pool below. I looked over the tops of the palm trees to the turquoise blue of the ocean, shimmering as the setting sun reflected gold off its surface, and I felt my body begin to relax from the stress of the day. Between the car ride with Sasha, the aggressive monkeys, and the scene with Jeremy, my experience in Ubud had not been the relaxing and centering experience I’d hoped it would be. I sat down in the low chair next to the bed, rubbing my fingers back and forth against the nubby beige upholstery fabric.
“So everyone on the trip watched it?” My cheeks flamed as I remembered turning around after Jeremy had stormed off and seeing all the guests of the FAM trip gathered at the railing of the platform. Most memorable had been Richard’s stormy expression.
“Pretty much. We heard Jeremy scream, then we all ran to the side as you and Buster and Mack chased him into a mud puddle.”
“That was a rice paddy,” I said. “And it wasn’t technically our fault that he lost his footing and fell.”
“Maybe not.” Kate let her shoes drop to the floor. “But it was hilarious. Didn’t you hear some of us clapping?”
“I’m guessing Richard was not one of those people?” I’d seen the hard line of his lips before he’d turned away from me with a flounce. Much like Jeremy, Richard liked to make a dramatic exit.
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Kate said. “You know Richard and his moods.”
That I did. One person walkouts were his signature move, triggered by anything from me having fake butter in my refrigerator to Kate mentioning the word Kardashian. “Did you know that he’d been talking to Reese behind my back?”
Kate sat up and scooted herself up so she could lean against the pile of fluffy white pillows stacked along the headboard. “Who? Richard? No way. I didn’t think he even liked Reese.”