by Laura Durham
“Be right back.” I made my way over to the nearest member of the security team and dabbed at the sweat gathering on my upper lip. I knew these guys weren’t actual cops, but their severe demeanor and gun bulges gave me pause.
One of the men looked up as I approached. “Can I help you?”
I steadied my voice and told myself I had no reason to feel flustered, especially since these guys were glorified rent-a-cops. “Mrs. Hamilton asked me to give you a list of people who should be allowed on the property.”
He slid his mirrored sunglasses onto the top of his head and took the paper I held out. “And you are?”
I laughed but heard the quaver in it. “Annabelle Archer. The wedding planner.”
The man folded the paper and slid it into his blazer pocket, exposing his holstered gun. “I’ll take care of it.”
His body language did not invite conversation, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying. I jutted one hip out and gave him my most seductive smile. “Any idea how the kidnappers got the bride and my assistant away from the house?”
“Your assistant?” He studied me, his expression unchanging.
“Yes, my assistant, Kate.” Did anyone else even care she was missing? “She was with Veronica, and they’re both missing.”
His eyebrow flickered slightly. “I didn’t know that. But to answer your question, I can’t.”
I leaned forward on my toes, trying to flutter my eyelashes like Kate had taught me.
“Do you have something wrong with your eye?”
I stopped fluttering and could hear a muffled guffaw behind me. Richard, no doubt. “No, I’m fine. You can’t what?”
“Can’t answer your question,” he said. “Mr. Hamilton has given us strict instructions not to contact law enforcement or talk to anyone about the situation.”
I let out a breath. This did not surprise me, but it didn’t make me happy, either. “Well, I happen to know just about every person who’s on-site today for the wedding. When you realize you need my help, I’ll be around.” I spun on my heel a little too fast and had to put my arms out to keep myself from falling over. I cursed at myself silently for ruining my own dramatic exit as I walked back to my friends.
“I’m just sorry that Kate missed you trying to use your feminine wiles on that man,” Richard said.
“Ignore him, sweetie.” Fern put a hand around my waist. “Eyelash batting is an advanced technique. It takes skill to make it look like you’re not having a seizure.”
“Who knew Kate’s skills were so useful?” I said.
Richard raised and lowered one shoulder. “Half the single men in the metropolitan area?”
Mack wagged a finger at him. “You shouldn’t speak ill of the kidnapped.”
“Au contraire,” Richard said. “It’s the dead I shouldn’t speak ill of.”
We fell silent, and Richard’s tan lost a few shades. “You know I didn’t mean . . .”
“We all know Kate is going to be fine,” Buster said, his voice so forceful we all jumped. He balled his massive hands into fists. “And we’re going to find whoever did this.”
Mack gave a curt nod. “They have no idea who they’ve messed with.”
I doubt the kidnappers had any clue they were up against a team of wedding professionals with an unusually high amount of crime-solving experience. Not to mention a couple of scary-looking bikers with a direct line to the Big Guy.
Fern looked over my head and his eyes lit up. “Is that who I think it is?”
Chapter 7
“Someone ordered a wedding cake?” Reese asked as he stepped out of the house carrying a wide cake box, followed by Alexandra pushing a wheeled trolley with more boxes stacked on its shelves.
Reese wore jeans and a white T-shirt with a black baseball hat covering his dark hair, looking every bit the delivery man. Alexandra wore a slim white pencil skirt and a pink chiffon blouse, with her long brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and looked nothing like any other baker I’d ever seen. I’d gotten used to the cake baker’s glamour, but most people were surprised to learn the stunning woman created decadent wedding cakes for a living.
Richard’s head snapped in my direction. “Please tell me I’m having a heat stroke and hallucinating.”
“I thought he could help us get Kate back.” I dropped my voice now that the band had stopped warming up. “No one can know he’s a cop though. The kidnappers said no police, and the Hamiltons would not be happy if they knew I’d called in a detective.”
“We’re supposed to pretend he’s a cake delivery man?” Fern asked, giving Reese the up and down as he sauntered toward us.
“The cake delivery ruse was to get him in, but it won’t be believable when he’s still here long after the cake has been set up.” I tapped my finger against my chin. “We need another reason he would be here so he can stay and help us.”
Reese held out the cake box when he reached me. “Wedding cake is heavier than I expected. Where should I put this?”
I took the white box and placed it on the patio table under the umbrella. “No trouble getting in?”
He motioned his head in Alexandra’s direction. “She charmed the guard at the front gate.”
Not surprising. If her looks didn’t get them, the accent—a European lilt that Alexandra never narrowed down to more than “a bit of everywhere, darling”—usually did.
“There’s a guard at the front gate?” I asked. “There wasn’t one earlier.”
“Security usually gets beefed up after a crime,” Reese said. “Although this security looks like more than your standard rent-a-cop. I’d guess these guys are former military.”
Alexandra stopped rolling the trolley when she reached us. “I can’t set up a cake in this heat. It will melt before the bride makes it down the aisle.”
“Richard has a special table on wheels for the cake,” I said. “You can assemble it inside the kitchen, and we’ll wheel it out right before cake cutting.”
Alexandra gave me a slow wink I would have thought was suggestive if I didn’t know her so well. “You think of everything.”
Buster picked up the cake box on the table. “I’ll take this inside for you.” He moved his eyes between Reese and me. “That way you two can catch up.”
Mack stood up and hurried after Alexandra and Buster as they disappeared into the house. “I’ll help. The cake table needs lots of floral swag.”
Reese put an arm around me. “How are you holding up?”
I allowed myself to lean into him. “I’m okay. Worried, but okay.” I met his hazel eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“We’re going to get Kate back,” he said, pulling me closer.
I nodded, but felt tears stinging my eyes so I looked down. We hadn’t been going out long enough for him to see me ugly cry, which I might do if I thought about the situation for too long.
Richard cleared his throat. “So what’s your plan, Detective?”
I put a finger to my lips. “He’s not a detective, remember? This has to be on the down low.”
“I could give him a disguise,” Fern whispered. “Possibly hair extensions.”
Reese’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his hat.
“He doesn’t need a disguise,” I said, feeling Reese relax next to me. “A good cover will suffice.”
“Let’s worry about that later,” Reese said. “First tell me what’s being done to get the bride and Kate back.”
“I don’t know the details of the ransom call,” I said. “But I do know the kidnappers didn’t ask for money. They asked for some of the poison gas the dad’s pharmaceutical company has been developing for the DOD.”
Reese’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?” He took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. “This isn’t your run-of-the-mill kidnapping?”
“We’re doomed.” Richard slumped further down in his chair. “I should pack up my kitchen now. This wedding is never going to happen, and no one is ever going to see my spun sugar carn
ival masks.”
I glared at him. “We’re not doomed. We’re going to get Kate and Veronica back, and everything will go on as planned.” I peered up at Reese. “Right?”
He chewed the corner of his bottom lip. “You know this means we’re dealing with potential terrorists, right? I need to call this in.”
I grasped him by the arms. “You can’t. You promised. The kidnappers said no cops. If they see Homeland Security roll in, they might harm the bride or Kate.”
Reese frowned. “I don’t like this. We should really get professional negotiators in here.”
“You’re a professional,” I said, shaking his arms. “Anyway, you promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“That was before I knew the whole story. If I don’t report a potential terror threat, I could lose my job.”
“Please, Mike.” I clutched his hands in mine and felt my eyes tear up again. “Just give me a little time.”
He groaned as he met my eyes. “Fine, but I want to go on record for saying this is a bad idea.”
“Mother of the bride at your six,” Richard said, masking his words with a cough.
I turned around as Mrs. Hamilton stepped out of the French doors still wearing her long robe.
“Just the people I needed to see,” she said, her eyes going from me to Fern to Richard and pausing when they reached Reese. “Who are you?”
Reese opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.
“This is Michael.” Richard stood and patted Reese on the back. “My sommelier for the evening.”
Mrs. Hamilton’s eyes brightened. “I didn’t know you brought a sommelier on-site. How lovely.”
“Only for the special clients,” Richard said. “The ones who truly appreciate fine wine.”
The bride’s mother gave Reese the once-over, her gaze lingering on the outline of his chest muscles through his T-shirt. “I’ve never met a sommelier who was so . . .”
Fern nudged her. “Isn’t he though?”
“You know, my younger daughter is quite the wine connoisseur. You wouldn’t happen to be single, would you?”
Before Reese could answer, Fern jumped in. “He’s taken. Isn’t it a tragedy?”
I felt my cheeks flush, and I took a small step away from Reese. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out we were together based on our body language, and it would seem unprofessional to have my boyfriend with me at work.
Fern cupped a hand to his mouth. “They’re trying to keep it hush-hush, but Richard is ecstatic.”
Richard’s jaw dropped almost as much as mine did. I made a point not to look at Reese’s reaction.
“I see.” Mrs. Hamilton smiled as she looked from Reese to Richard. “Well, you two make a handsome couple.”
Richard stammered and looked at his feet.
“Ready to finish your hair?” Fern asked the mother as he spun her around and propelled her into the house, craning his neck to blow a kiss to us.
“Don’t look at me,” I said as Richard shot daggers in my direction. “That was not what I had in mind.”
He turned and stomped off, muttering as he went.
“Two minutes with your friends and I’m a gay wine expert?” Reese asked.
“I’m the one who should be upset,” I said. “You’re messing around with my best friend.”
Reese gave me a side-eye glance. “It’s going to be a long time before I find any of this funny.”
Chapter 8
“Can you take me through the day so far?” Reese asked as he pulled out a chair for me at the kitchen table. “You know, before I need to go decant some wines with my boyfriend.”
I tried not to grin as I sat down. “Again, I had nothing to do with that.”
He rolled his eyes and took the seat next to mine. “Let’s say you owe me one. A big one.”
I felt my cheeks warm as I imagined the ways I could make it up to him. I absently picked up a blueberry muffin from the tray in the middle of the table and began peeling off the wrapper. I usually didn’t eat the food set out during wedding setup, but I was starving, and the family and bridal party hadn’t touched them. I figured most of the women were either off gluten, off sugar, or off breakfast pastries in general.
Reese pulled a small notebook from his back pocket. “Let’s start with who’s been coming and going from the house.”
“More coming than going.” I set down the unwrapped muffin and took the folded-up wedding day schedule from the pocket of my dress. “The tents were set up two days ago to make sure the ground stayed dry in case of rain. Then the flooring went in. They did the draping yesterday and came this morning to add the fans. Most of the guys left by noon, but one is scheduled to stay throughout the event.”
“And that’s normal?” he asked as he took notes.
“Pretty standard,” I said, taking a small bite of muffin and catching the falling crumbs in my cupped hand. “We always keep one person on-site in case we need tweaks during the event. Kate and I don’t want to be the ones on ladders adding sidewalls in the dark.” I hesitated when I said Kate’s name and heard my voice crack.
Reese stopped writing and looked up at me. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her back. Everything you’re telling me will help me build a timeline of the day, and that will help me narrow down the people who might have done this.”
I gathered my thoughts and took a breath. “Richard, Kate, and I were all here by nine o’clock this morning. The rental delivery was the first truck to arrive, and it dropped off right after nine and was gone by noon. Richard oversaw that since he placed the order. Buster and Mack came in next. They arrived on their Harleys and their setup team drove their box truck, which is still here.”
“So none of the floral team has left?” Reese asked.
I shook my head and took another bite of muffin, tasting the sweetness of a blueberry. “Not that I know of. They wouldn’t have any way to leave since they all came on the truck. Buster and Mack are still here and, as far as I know, so are their bikes.”
“It would be pretty unusual for kidnappers to use Harleys as the getaway vehicles.”
“They sure aren’t quiet,” I said, thinking of the loud rumbling noise that preceded Buster’s and Mack’s arrival. I would have remembered hearing that during the day.
Reese tapped his pen on the table. “Have any other vehicles left the premises?”
“I don’t know. I’ve spent most of the day in the back of the house either setting up the ceremony tent or checking the reception tent. As far as I know, the gate wasn’t guarded until after the bride disappeared. The Hamiltons usually buzz people in, and anyone could open the gates from the inside if they knew the location of the control panel. I’ve been buzzed in by their maids, the bride, and the mom’s personal assistant before.”
“So a vehicle could have arrived, been buzzed in, and left without alerting anyone?”
“Pretty much,” I admitted, finishing the muffin and wiping the crumbs off my lips. “With all the setup craziness, I don’t think anyone would have thought twice about another car or van driving up. The father of the bride’s personal security team was much more focused on keeping eyes on him than on checking cars.”
Reese flipped a page in his notebook. “Tell me about this security team. I think I saw one of them earlier.”
“They’re dressed in black so they blend in with the setup crews, but they’re all packing heat. Apparently, the dad hired them after he got a big contract with the Department of Defense.”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “What does he do again?”
“Pharma. He’s been developing some sort of biotech weapon—poison gas, I think—and he’d gotten some threats on his life.”
“By . . .?” Reese asked.
“No clue. I guess not everyone thinks it’s a great thing to manufacture poisons used to kill people. The security team has definitely had eyes on the dad at all times. I get the feeling they’re more muscle than brains since I haven’t seen them doing much i
nvestigating since the bride disappeared. Aside from tightening security at the house.”
“If they’re ex-military, they aren’t necessarily trained to investigate.” He winked at me. “Unlike some people you know.”
I wadded up the muffin wrapper, brushed the crumbs into one hand, and took them to the trash can disguised as a kitchen cabinet. “How does any of this information help us get Kate back safely?”
“I need to get a full picture of the day.” Reese reached for a dark brown muffin I assumed was bran. “Tell me about the time right around the disappearance.”
I sat back down and filled him in on Fern reporting the bride’s cold feet, Kate going up to talk to her, and Fern reporting them both missing.
Reese tapped his pen on the table. “What time was that?”
“A little before three o’clock. It must not have been more than twenty minutes between when Kate went up and when Fern did.”
“Plenty of time to get two women out the door and into a vehicle.” Reese took a big bite of muffin, and a cascade of crumbs fell over the table.
“But why didn’t they scream?” I asked, fighting the urge to sweep up the crumbs. “They would have had to pass right by the room where the bridesmaids were getting ready, down the stairs, and out the front door. There’s plenty of time to call out for help or be seen during all of that.”
“If they were held at gunpoint, they may have been too frightened to scream. Or they were convinced to go outside by someone they knew and trusted.”
My stomach did a flip-flop, and I instantly regretted wolfing down the sugar-topped muffin. “You think the kidnapper was someone Veronica and Kate knew?”
“I’m only suggesting it as a possibility since you brought up a good question. How did no one see two adult women being taken from a busy house?”
I heard the footsteps before I saw the groom walking into the kitchen from the foyer. He was tall and slim with curly blond hair and wore a tuxedo but carried the jacket over one arm. Even though Tad had a name fit for the rich and famous, his unruly blond hair and tan skin always made me think he belonged on a surfboard.