A Wedding to Die For

by Adrianne Lee

  “I liked it too, Blessing. But we can do better than that.” He punched the stop button on the elevator, pulled me to him, and kissed me until my lips parted and his tongue invaded and sensations I’d never felt before swirled over me like delicious wisps of wind. My toes curled, my knees wobbled. It had been so long since I’d been with a man, I’d forgotten just how wonderful it could be.

  My breath seized in my lungs. “Seth, I…”

  He cut me off, his lips brushing mine again, and then touching his forehead to mine. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the other night.”

  I’d wanted to do that since junior high. Not that I could or would admit it. My pulse hummed with anticipation, even as I fielded regrets. I’d wondered what Seth would taste like for years, and now that I knew, I wished I could erase the knowledge and go back to ignorant bliss. I had no business encouraging anything further between us. I wasn’t in love with Seth, just with the idea of him. He’d been a fantasy for too many years. Although I had to admit that the reality exceeded my imagination tenfold.

  I dragged myself back to the moment. My head felt ready to crack open from too much tension. I preferred my drama on the small or big screen, not in real life, but it was the only way to change the mood. “Why did you need to talk to me?”

  “I found out how Tanya died.”

  “You said you hadn’t spoken to Troy.”

  “I didn’t. I talked to the coroner. He wanted to see a couple of my photographs.”

  “How was she killed?”

  “Strangled. Probably with that length of cloth around her waist.”

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and my heart crashed to my knees. I staggered, not from desire, but fear.

  Seth caught me by the arm. “Are you okay? You look ill.”

  “Migraine.” I grabbed the sides of my head. “Just need to lie down.”

  I started the elevator again, hit the down button. “I’ll let you out the back door so you can avoid the worst of the crowds.”

  “I know. When did this peaceful little town become a circus parade?”

  “Since a dead body washed ashore during a wedding. I can’t wait to get back to L.A. and my normal life.”

  He looked crestfallen at the thought of me leaving. Or was I imagining it? He caught my head gently and kissed me tenderly. “See you later, Blessing.”

  I let him out. Then I stood there for a moment, waiting for the glow of my confused feelings about Seth to burn away the horror of my mother possibly being a murderer. Tanya had been strangled with the belt that belonged to the dress she’d thrown away. What other conclusion was there? Without realizing I’d been moving, I found myself in the storeroom, with rows upon rows of bagged wedding dresses. Maybe the dress wasn’t thrown away, but rather hidden in plain sight. I pushed through the maze, the swick of plastic accompanying my hunt. Finally, I spied the hold rack.

  My outstretched hand reached for the bag in question. Pain exploded in the back of my head. Stars danced before my eyes. My knees folded. I felt the floor looming toward me. Realized I was falling. As everything went black, I heard someone whisper, “Keep snooping and you’ll be next.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I’d pissed off a dangerous person. And I had no idea who. Fear took up residence in my heart. I jumped at every sound. Slept with the light on like after my dad died. Seth came by each night and double-checked every door and window in our building, making sure that locks were locked, giving me enough peace of mind that I could close my eyes without shaking.

  Although the police were sympathetic, they had nothing to go on. Too many people had been in town that day and in the shop. Anyone could have crept into the storeroom and attacked me. But I knew it wasn’t anyone. It was Tanya’s killer. My only consolation was that the attack cleared away any doubt I harbored of my mother’s possible involvement in Tanya’s demise. Mom would never conk me on the head or threaten my life. She hadn’t murdered Big Finn’s ex-wife.

  By day three of my recuperation, I was the pissed-off one. By playing the victim, hiding out in my room, and cowering at every creak this old building made, I’d given over my power to my attacker. I was taking it back. I dressed and made it as far as the sofa before the lingering effects of my concussion demanded I not take on too much the first day up.

  Mom brought me a pillow and a fuzzy throw. “You rest awhile, sweetheart. I’ll check on you around lunch time.”

  I snuggled into the cover, letting my mind drift. In my zeal to find evidence exonerating my mother, I’d stepped on the wrong toes. But whose toes? I mentally retraced where I’d been the days before the attack. Who had I spoken to? Who had I seen? Someone on the street? Someone at The Last Fling? I closed my eyes, picturing the bar’s interior, scanning my memory to place the patrons. Nothing stood out.

  I lifted my lids to find Meg kneeling by the coffee table. The air sizzled with an energy that seemed to emanate from her, as if she were plugged into an invisible socket.

  “I’ve come to cheer you up,” she declared, pointing to the compact makeup case on the tabletop. “You’re entirely too pale. When I’m done working my sorcery, you’ll dazzle.”

  “What if I don’t want to dazzle?”

  “Phooey. Who doesn’t want to dazzle?” she asked with a lightness that I realized masked the turmoil she seemed to be feeling. This, I sensed, was more than mourning for a mother she’d never connected with and hadn’t really known.

  As she opened the case, I asked, “What’s up, buttercup?”

  “Nothing,” she lied, gnawing her lower lip. She continued to stare at the products she’d brought as if weighing which of her magical beauty supplies to use first.

  “Something,” I corrected. “Out with it.”

  “Peter is pressuring me.” She held an eyeliner brush like a wand. “His movie is starting. The police have given us permission to leave, and he wants us to fly to Las Vegas, get married, and go on to the set location in Dallas.”

  “Elope, huh?” Well, why not? The thought of another formal ceremony now stirred all sorts of disastrous memories for me, the drugged preacher, the murder. What must it do to her? Whereas Peter’s suggestion accomplished the deed without a lot of trauma. Short, yet sweet. Then in a few months, the big, elaborate celebration party. So why wasn’t Meg smiling or spilling over with excitement? “I take it you don’t want to elope?”

  She extracted a tub of lip gloss and one of her eye-shadow kits, finally meeting my gaze. “I promised myself I would not dump my problems on you.”

  Oh, brother. Only a doozy of a problem would move her to use that ploy. “What is it?”

  She inhaled. “I finally told Peter.”

  I was used to her chaotic mind bouncing from one subject to another, and I could usually keep up without much trouble. But she’d lost me. “About…?”

  “My feelings for Troy.”

  Whoa. That brought me upright. I shoved the throw aside, silently applauding her courage in facing her feelings. A marriage didn’t stand a chance with lies and half-truths at the core. I was proud of her. “How exactly do you feel about Troy?”

  She gave a toss of her head, the flame curls bouncing like indecision. “That’s just it. I have serious, unresolved feelings for him. When I recall how it was between us, I still want to be with him. Forever. When I recall how he left, I don’t want anything to do with him. Ever again.”

  “And you told Peter all of that?”

  “Well, not exactly.”

  Good thing. “How did Peter take it?” Given his ego, not well would be my guess.

  “Better than I thought he would. He said I needed time to regroup. That maybe I should stay with my dad while he went on to his movie set, and that I could join him there in a couple of weeks, and we could do the Vegas wedding then.”

  My mouth fell open. It’s-all-about-me-Peter-Wolfe committing a truly selfless act filled me with disbelief. Had I misjudged him? Did he love Meg more than I gave him credit for? I couldn�
�t equate this generous Peter with the threatening one. An ugly suspicion stirred. “Did he tell you what the secret was he didn’t want your mother to tell you?”

  She caught my chin to hold my head still while she began applying some cream or other to my eye area. “He said she was insisting he talk me into letting her walk me down the aisle along with Dad. You know, to give me away.”

  “If you say one word about that to Meg, I’ll kill you.” I recalled the anger in his voice and knew his explanation didn’t ring true. It wasn’t something over which someone would threaten murder. I closed my eyes as Meg applied liner to my upper and lower lids. Was I reading too much into what I’d overheard? Maybe. I might be taking threats a bit more seriously since being attacked. Right?

  “Isn’t Peter worried that you and Troy might… reconnect?”

  Meg began using an eyeliner wand. I closed my eyes and listened to the dismay in her voice. “He said I just need to get Troy out of my system, and that he’s sure when I spend some time around him again, I’ll realize why we broke up. Something about leopards and spots.”

  Was Peter that trusting? Or was it that he believed that given a choice between himself and another man, a woman would always pick him? My vote? Meet Hulk, the ego.

  “There,” she said, handing me a mirror. “What do you think?”

  I looked at my image, amazed that she’d managed to erase the signs of my restless nights and lack of sleep and restored me to my former self. “You’re a wizard with makeup.”

  “I am,” she said, turning introspective as she placed the brushes and tubes and pencils back into the case. “I don’t want to give up my goal of one day owning my own salon.”

  “But as Peter’s wife, you’ll be able to afford a really incredible salon with a lot of employees and high-end clients.”

  “True, and I’m sure that’s the only way Peter will really be onboard with my pursuing my dream. I’ve always wanted to own a high-end salon, but starting at the top seems wrong. I wanted to be hands-on with the customers, build the business slowly. Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “Then maybe staying here with your dad for a couple of weeks has more than one benefit. You’ll be able to find your footing without all the distractions in L.A. or on a movie set, and then you’ll be able to listen to your heart. That’s how you’ll figure out which direction is right for you.”

  She gave me a grateful smile and squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll bet your dad is glad you’re staying on for a while. I imagine he’s been pretty lonesome with you living in California.”

  Meg scrunched her face. “I think Dad might be hooking up with my wedding planner.”

  I stretched. “Um, Zelda told me they’ve been dating for about six months.”

  Her brows arched. “Well, that explains a lot. Why hasn’t Dad told me?”

  I shrugged. “Timing? Zelda said he didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

  Meg smirked. “I think I almost caught her sneaking out of his bedroom this morning. She hurried outside to her car before we could speak. And when I asked Dad about it later, he… he blushed.”

  “What?” I’d seen Big Finn get red in the face for as many years as I could remember, but blush? Never. Could this be a serious romance? They were such opposites. She was as fluttery as a bird, and he was as down to earth as a tree. “She does seem to defuse his temper fairly easily. How would you feel about it, if you’re right?”

  Meg gave her long hair a flip. “I’d be glad for him. For both of them. He’s been single for so many years. I was afraid he’d grow old and bitter and all alone. Especially when I marry Peter, since I’ll be too busy to come home as often as I have been.”

  I let the idea of a Finn and Zelda romance filter through me and discovered the chill around my heart melting. A smile tugged. “I hope it’s true.”

  “Me too.”

  “I hate to change the subject to a less palatable one, but have the police made any progress in Tanya’s case?”

  “I don’t know.” Meg put away the last of the makeup. “Troy won’t discuss it.”

  Frustration bubbled to the surface and into my words. “There are a lot of people in this town with motivation, and unfortunately, they are all folks we care about. Your dad, my mom, Billie, even Troy.” Maybe Peter. Even Zelda. “And if the murder is never solved, they will all live with the stigma of suspicion over their heads. Guilty by suspicion.”

  “Not to mention you always wondering if one of them brained you.”

  “The killer thinks I know something.”

  “Or that you’re close to discovering something.”

  “If only.”

  “I think Jade is holding out on us,” Meg said. “She looked guilty as hell when we questioned her at The Last Fling.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  “We should question her again.”

  But Jade wasn’t at the bar when we arrived. She’d hooked up with Peter’s agent and given her notice. I said, “That was quick.”

  “You heard Jade sing. Walter Fields is no fool. That was the act of an agent excited about a new, hot property.”

  “I wonder if she’s left town yet?”

  “I haven’t heard.”

  We sat at the bar and ordered Honeymoon Sweets. I let the drink and the ambiance of the place invade my senses, hoping it would stir up a clear memory or two of who’d been here the day I was attacked. Nothing came. And yet, I had the niggling itch that I’d taken note of someone or something off-kilter that day. I just couldn’t pull it to the surface.

  “Fuck-a-duck, would you look at that!” the bartender roared, pulling me back to the moment. He was gaping at the TV behind us. He reached for the remote and cranked up the volume. “I’ll be damned. Have you seen this?”

  Meg and I spun around. My gaze flew to the wall-mounted wide-screen. A video was playing of our mothers in this bar, brawling like alley cats. Across the bottom, the ticker read: Submitted by an observer who caught the whole thing on tape. A love triangle over twelve years old allegedly leads to murder.

  * * *

  Meg dragged me out of The Last Fling, insisting she would drive. I didn’t remember handing her my keys. I was shaking like a caught fish. “It’s all over the news. And on the Internet thanks to that famous celebrity gossip site. Someone must have taped the fight with their cell phone or iPad.”

  “It looked more professional to me. No wobbly camera movements. Like the person doing the filming had experience filming such things. Like a professional or a paparazzo.”

  My brows lifted at the suggestion. “Like Kramer? Was he still in the bar when the fight occurred? According to Jade, he’d left before my mother arrived.”

  “Troy said he’d spoken to him in L.A. And Kramer sent the police proof that, when his flight was airborne, Tanya was still alive.”

  Disappointment flushed through me. “I guess I was really hoping he was the killer.”

  “That makes two of us. But don’t let that video upset you. It might stir up suspicion, but given our moms didn’t try to hide their animosity, I’d guess Susan is already on the list of possible suspects.”

  She hadn’t meant to terrify me, but a raw, hot knot filled my stomach, making me feverish and chilled in equal turns. “What if the police see that video?”

  “They probably already have.”

  She was right. I was burying my head in the sand. The need to find another, more solid suspect was the only excuse I had for immediately thinking of Peter. But God, how did I broach the subject when I didn’t know the real secret Peter was keeping from Meg? Carefully. I realized there was another way to get what I was after. In a voice I reserved for kittens and babies, I asked, “Meg, what did you and your mother fight about?”

  She frowned. “I told you. She wanted to horn in on my new life with Peter.”

  “No. What exactly did you say to each other?”

  “Why?”

  �
�Please, just indulge me.”

  Meg sighed. “I wanted to spare you.”

  “It’s too late for that now.”

  “You’re right. She tried to tell me that she didn’t leave me of her own free will all those years ago. That she was run out of town by my dad and your mom and Billie.”

  The feverish sensation spiked higher. I feared my hair would spontaneously burst into flames. It was the same shit Tanya had accused my mother of. An accusation Mom hadn’t denied.

  Meg shook her head. “Don’t worry. I didn’t believe a word. She forgot that I was old enough to remember how she’d treated me.”

  I glanced at the houses as we passed, thinking what a serene little town this seemed, if one judged by its appearance and looked no further. So many secrets. So many lies. Half-truths. Meg had opened up to me. She deserved the same in return. I cleared my throat. “The night of the rehearsal dinner, my mom and Tanya had words. Tanya said some things about my dad. Hinted at an affair between them.”

  “Oh no. Did your mother punch her?”

  “You saw the video.”

  As serious as this was, we nervous-laughed. Meg sobered first. “She denied it though, right?”

  I shook my head.

  “It can’t be true,” Meg said, climbing onto my denial bandwagon. I wanted to welcome her aboard, but I knew the horses pulling that particular cart were wearing out.

  “I don’t want to believe it either. But if there wasn’t some grain of truth in it, why didn’t she say so?” Why has she been avoiding me? Why did she hunt Tanya down at the bar and brawl with her? My mother wasn’t a brawler. The video images flashed before my eyes, calling me a liar. At least I now knew how the dress got torn.

  “I think it’s time one of our parents told us the whole truth,” Meg said, suddenly the logical, holding-it-together one. Me, falling apart like a seam with broken thread.

  “There’s something else I need to tell you first,” I said. “I received a couple of threatening messages meant to stop your wedding.” I told her the exact wording.

  “Is that why the tent was shredded and splattered with blood?”