by Rachel Woods
After the brouhaha at the rehearsal dinner, Melanie came to the guest room where Vivian and Leo were staying with an urgent request. Her face blotchy from stress and tears, Melanie implored Vivian to take Winnie’s place as a bridesmaid at the wedding. Sympathetic toward Melanie’s distress at Besi’s plight, Vivian had agreed without reluctance, but she’d pointed out that she didn’t have a bridesmaid dress.
Melanie told her that the bridesmaid dress—a simple strapless dress made of silk and tulle—could be ordered and overnighted to the island in time for the wedding.
“Well, Mrs. Bronson,” said Leo, his tone unenthusiastic. “Looks like it’s our time to shine.”
Vivian glanced toward the altar, where Tom and Kelsea had arrived and were taking their places. Recognizing their cue, Vivian nudged Leo, and they began their walk down the aisle. With the warm pink sand beneath her bare feet and the fading sunlight casting golden rays through the trees, Vivian couldn’t help but reflect on her own wedding.
She and Leo had been married on the beach, but the ceremony had been much more intimate. They’d decided to have a sunrise wedding, to signify the dawn of their new life together, and had invited a dozen close friends and family. Blessed with a gorgeous morning, their wedding had been magical and perfect—except for one thing.
Her best friend, Amal, had not been there to share Vivian’s special day.
Vivian had chosen not to dwell on Amal’s absence as she’d stood facing Leo, reciting her vows to him. She’d been overjoyed and yet the moment was bittersweet. Amal would have been so thrilled for her.
Clutching her bouquet, a tropical mix of baby elephant leaves and small sego palms surrounded by vibrant bird of paradise, Vivian separated from Leo when they reached the altar.
With the wedding party in place, the guests stood, and minutes later, Besi walked down the aisle.
Vivian couldn’t help feeling sad for Besi, having neither of her parents present on her wedding day.
Despite not having her father to walk her down the aisle, Besi was resplendent, beautiful and glowing in a dazzling gown featuring hand-sewn Swarovski crystals. Taking her place in front of her groom, Besi took his hands, and the ceremony began.
Following the minister’s sermonizing about the sanctity and gravity of marriage, there was a Scripture reading, and then the minister led Derek through his vows, which he echoed with pompous confidence and arrogant entitlement. Vivian caught Leo’s look of irritation and suppressed a laugh. Glancing away from her husband, fearing she might expel an ill-timed giggle, Vivian focused on the audience, surveying the wedding guests.
At once, she realized she didn’t see Derek’s parents in the audience. Vivian had never met the former Canadian Prime Minister, but she’d seen lots of photos and video of David Hennessy and had no doubt she would recognize him, and Derek’s mother, the glamorous former supermodel, Marcie Wallace. Why weren’t they at the wedding?
As she scanned the guests, Vivian’s gaze stopped on someone familiar.
Wearing dark sunglasses, a brunette woman, her hair pulled back in a tight chignon, perched on a chair on the very last row of the groom’s side of the aisle. Was that Besi’s good friend she’d met at the cocktail party six days ago? Vivian wasn’t exactly sure, but she thought so.
Once Derek finished saying his vows, the minister instructed Besi to repeat after him. “I, Bessemer Elizabeth Beaumont, take thee, Derek Fitzpatrick Hennessy…”
Besi said, “I, Bessemer Elizabeth Beaumont, take thee, Derek Fitzpatrick Hennessy…”
The minister continued with the vows, and keeping with his instructions, Besi repeated, “…to be my wedded husband … “
Vivian sneaked a glance at the man she’d taken as her wedded husband. Her breath caught when she saw that Leo was staring at her, his look conveying his love. Was he thinking of their wedding day, too? Did he remember how special and magical it had been? Their joining had been miraculous. At one point in her life, Vivian had doubted that she would ever marry. Leo’s aversion to marriage had torn them apart, but they’d found their way back to each other. Vivian vowed that nothing would ever split them apart again.
“To have and to hold from this day forward,” intoned the minister.
Vivian gave Leo a small smile, and he gave her a look that exposed his thoughts. Her husband was thinking of ravishing her, and suddenly, Vivian couldn’t wait. But, first, Besi would have to finish her vows. And then Derek would have to kiss his new bride.
“For better or for worse,” said the minister.
Following the pronouncement of Derek and Besi as man and wife, there would be the wedding processional, Vivian realized, and then photos of the wedding party. They would have to attend the reception, where Leo was scheduled to say a toast.
“For better or for worse,” said Besi.
The minister said, “For richer and for poorer…”
As Besi repeated the vows, Vivian decided to forget about being ravished for the time being.
The minister said, “In sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part…”
Glancing out at the audience, Vivian listened as Besi echoed the vows, “In sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death …”
A loud gasp erupted, followed by exclamations of shock and horror.
Confused, Vivian turned back to the altar as a scream pierced the balmy air.
Crumpled at Derek’s feet, Besi lay lifeless.
“Oh my God…” whispered Vivian, her hand pressed against her mouth as she stared at Besi, whose head was a pulpy, shattered mess of brain matter, scorched hair, and blood.
13
“Lemmie made you some hot tea,” said Leo.
Adjusting the shawl around her bare shoulders, Vivian managed to smile as Leo walked into the library and headed to the couch where she sat with her leg tucked beneath her. She’d been in that same spot for an hour, since the police detectives had left the house to go back to the crime scene, where the cops would remain all night, collecting evidence.
Nearly eight hours had passed since Besi Beaumont had been killed. Vivian still couldn’t shake the image of Besi lying in the sand, her wedding veil stained with splotches of brain and blood.
Accepting the mug from her husband, Vivian blew across the steaming surface, catching the faint smell of something fruity and sweet. “Is there lemon in the tea?”
Leo nodded as he sat next to her and pulled her into his arms. “And just a bit of rum.”
Vivian took a cautious sip and savored the liquid, laced with distilled cane sugar, as it flowed down her throat and into her stomach. Despite the warmth of the tea, Vivian shivered in the bridesmaid dress she should have taken off hours ago.
Still shell-shocked and stunned, she felt paralyzed. Her mind in shambles, she struggled to make sense of what had happened to Besi. She couldn’t believe Besi had been shot to death.
In the immediate aftermath of the horrific tragedy, Vivian had stood paralyzed, not sure if she should rush toward the scene to help Besi or stay back. Her mind flooded with terrorizing worry for Leo, and the safety of the bridal party and the wedding guests. Questions zipped through her head as screams and shouts intensified, rising to full-scale horror. Were they in the middle of an active shooter situation? Were they all easy, open targets? What was going on? How could this have happened? Why had it happened? Who would want to kill Besi? Was Besi the target? Or, an unintended victim? Where had the shot come from? Somewhere behind her? Oh, God … could she have been shot?
Sipping more of the tea, Vivian recalled how Derek, who stood unnervingly still as he stared down at Besi, was pushed aside by Tom York, who dropped to his knees in front of Besi and pulled her lifeless body into his arms. Rocking Besi’s body back and forth, Tom wailed her name. When Derek tried to approach him, Tom snarled at Derek to stay away from Besi. Leo, Jacob, and Melanie rushed to Tom, pleading with him to release Besi’s body so they could determine what had happened to
her.
By that time, terror and confusion had spread through the crowd, more devastating than wildfire, devouring all sense of decency, common sense, and decorum.
“We’re all going to die!”
“We need the police!”
“Call an ambulance!”
Panic spread quickly, undeterred and unrestrained after someone shouted that there was a sniper. Fearing for their lives, the guests scurried and scrambled, trampling over each other, racing toward a safe place to hide.
“How are you holding up, babe?” asked Leo, pressing his lips against her forehead.
“Okay, I guess,” said Vivian, holding the mug with both hands. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to process what happened, and I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I,” said Leo. “One minute, I’m standing there waiting for the minister to pronounce Derek and Besi as husband and wife. The next, I’m watching Besi fall to the ground, and the back of her head is nothing but …”
Tears pricking her eyes, Vivian put the mug on the coffee table and then curled up next to Leo, pressing her face against the dress shirt he’d worn beneath his tuxedo, hiding in his strong arms wrapped around her.
“I’m surprised the two of you are still awake.”
Wiping her eyes, Vivian moved away from Leo’s embrace, staring at Burt as he strode toward them. Haggard and worn, his face was drawn and pale as he took a seat in one of the club chairs across from the couch.
“How’s Derek?” asked Leo.
“Still in shock,” said Burt. “He was given something to help him sleep. I just got off the phone with David. I hated having to give him such horrible news.”
Vivian asked, “Are Derek’s parents headed to the island?”
Burt hesitated, looking away, and then said, “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Leo asked.
Clearing his throat, Burt said, “I don’t think David can clear his schedule.”
“I don’t understand. It was bad enough that he skipped the wedding,” said Leo. “But, his son’s fiancée was shot dead during the ceremony. Doesn’t he think that Derek needs his support?”
“We will support Derek in his father’s absence,” said Burt. “Now, more than ever, Leonard, is the time for you to truly set aside any bitterness you may still be harboring against Derek.”
“Of course, I’m going to be there for Derek,” said Leo.
Exhaling, Burt said, “The police are still at the crime scene, but they believe the bullet came from the trees.”
“Do they think Besi was the target?” asked Leo. “Or, was it a random shot?”
Vivian’s stomach lurched. The idea of someone deliberately deciding to kill Besi on her wedding day was horrific, but a random, stray bullet meant that any member of the wedding party could have been killed. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she realized that Leo could have been shot.
“They’re not sure,” said Burt. “I spent the last few hours meeting with the police chief, Detectives François and Janvier, and a team of policemen hand-picked by the chief. A task force has been formed to figure out how the hell this happened and find the bastard who killed Besi.”
Leo nodded. “Let’s hope the chief chooses Baxter François to lead the task force. He’s the department’s best detective.”
Lips pursed, Burt pinched the bridge of his nose, and then said, “There’s something else I need to discuss with both of you.”
“What is it?” asked Vivian, her pulse jumping.
“As I’m sure you already know, considering that both Derek and Besi are from prominent, powerful families, the global press is descending,” said Burt. “I’ve gotten word that correspondents from several cable news stations have already arrived on the island. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not to speak with the media.”
“That’s some kind of irony,” said Leo.
Burt fixed them with a steely glare. “I do not want Derek or his family to become lurid tabloid fodder. And what happened to Besi is not to have any prominence in the Palmchat Gazette.”
“You don’t want to cover the story?” asked Vivian.
“The Associated Press ran a story they picked up from a stringer,” said Burt. “It gives the basic facts without gory details or rampant speculation. We’ll reprint that.”
“The story is already trending, Dad,” said Leo. “There have been a flood of requests for statements from Derek, and the wedding party, and the guests at the wedding.”
“Leo and I have already gotten dozens of calls from colleagues all over the world,” said Vivian. “Everyone wants to know—”
“I’ve been in touch with the head of publicity at Bronson Publishing to manage the interview requests,” said Burt. “Statements on behalf of Derek and the wedding party, including yourself, are being crafted and will be disseminated to the media. As much as possible, I would like to shield Derek from the onslaught of the press. I hope I can count on your cooperation, Leonard.”
“Are you sure this is the right way to handle this?” asked Leo. “Viv and I were first-hand witnesses, and we’re friends of Derek. I’m sure that, together, we can create a poignant story that is both respectful and sensitive to Besi’s memory and Derek’s loss.”
“Derek asked me to help him deal with the media, and that includes my publications as well,” said Burt as he stood. “I have agreed to respect Derek’s privacy during this shockingly horrific time, and I expect you to do the same and honor his wishes.”
After Burt left the library, Leo turned to Vivian. “You think Dad’s making the right decision?”
“Burt’s probably right,” said Vivian, remembering how she’d felt after losing her best friend. “Derek needs time to mourn.”
When Amal had been murdered, Vivian hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone. She could understand if Derek didn’t want to share his pain, or try to describe the depths of his sadness.
Nodding, Leo stood and then pulled Vivian to her feet. “We should probably try to get some rest.”
Vivian agreed as she leaned against her husband, grateful for his strength as they left the library. But, she doubted she would sleep since she was afraid to close her eyes.
Each time she did, she saw Besi’s white wedding veil splattered with blood.
14
After planting a kiss on Vivian’s forehead, Leo slipped an arm around his wife’s waist as they walked out of the guest room and down the wide hallway.
“Did you get any sleep?” asked Leo, feeling as though he’d only crawled into bed moments ago. Nevertheless, despite his exhaustion, he’d woken up around seven in the morning. He’d been wide awake, holding Vivian in his arms, staring at the tray ceiling above the bed when his cell phone vibrated. A text from Burt, informing him that a late morning breakfast had been arranged in the informal dining room for the wedding guests. Not that Leo thought anyone was in the mood to eat. His appetite was shot, and he was sure Vivian had little taste for anything beyond coffee and toast.
“Not really.” Vivian leaned her head against his arm. “Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blood on a white veil.”
“I think I was having crazy dreams,” said Leo, unable to remember the bizarre images that had plagued his sleep.
“You were tossing and turning quite a bit,” said Vivian.
“Didn’t mean to keep you up, babe,” Leo said, pulling her closer as they walked across the second-floor landing toward the curving staircase.
“You didn’t keep me up,” Vivian said. “Besi’s murder kept me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I still can’t. Who could have done something so horrible?”
Leo kissed his wife’s forehead, disturbed by the unshed tears in the hoarseness of her voice.
“Hopefully the cops will find out,” said Leo.
“You think the task force is up to the challenge?” Vivian asked as they headed down the stairs. “Maybe the Palmchat Island Investigative Bureau should be called to help with the case?”
&n
bsp; “I’m sure François and Janvier will call in reinforcements if they need them,” said Leo.
“Detective François could ask his brothers for help,” said Vivian.
“They’re all detectives, right?” asked Leo, recalling that the François family was known for its inductive detection and investigative insight. Baxter François’ grandfather and his father, both excellent lawmen, were famous for apprehending The Fury, a heinous serial killer with cannibalistic tendencies who’d stalked the islands more than twenty years ago.
“Three of them are,” said Vivian.
“Thought Baxter had four brothers,” said Leo as they turned right down the hall that led to the dining room.
“He does, but the youngest brother is still a—”
Glass shattered, followed by several high-pitched shrieks.
Leo tensed. “What the hell?”
“Something’s going on in the dining room,” said Vivian, her voice laced with apprehension. “We better see what’s happening.”
Following his wife down the hall, Leo entered the dining room and stopped.
Staring in shock, Leo winced as Derek slammed his fist into Tom’s jaw, sending Tom sprawling back against the wall. On her feet, Melanie cried for Derek and Tom to stop fighting. Kelsea implored Zeke and Jacob to stop the men from killing each other. Cowering in their seats, neither Zeke nor Jacob seemed anxious to get into the middle of the fray.
“Leo, do something!” Vivian told him.
Hesitant to get involved, Leo took a few cautious steps into the dining room. “Derek! Tom! What the hell are you doing?”
“Leo! Thank God!” Kelsea ran over to him. “Make them stop fighting!”
“Why are they fighting?” asked Vivian. “What happened?”