Wed or Alive

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Wed or Alive Page 9

by Laura Durham


  “But we got through it together.” I squeezed Mack. “The same way we’ll get through this. We may need to push things back a bit timewise, but I’ll bet the bride will be happy to have a celebration after her ordeal.”

  I knew if Kate was with me, she’d say I was letting my need to fix every problem get the better of me. I missed having her be the devil’s advocate and sassy counterpoint to my arguments.

  “You really are the iron fist in the velvet glove, aren’t you?” Mack said. “I don’t know what we’d do if you weren’t holding us all together.”

  “You know what you can do?” I said. “Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that seems out of the ordinary.”

  Since I knew the security cameras wouldn’t give us any information, we were back to gathering clues the way we’d always done—snooping and prying.

  Mack’s eyes shone. “Do you mean spy?”

  Buster pulled himself up to his full height. “We’ve never gone incognito before.”

  Considering both men were well over six feet tall and topped three hundred pounds, all covered in black leather, this was not surprising.

  “Not spying per se, but the more we know about the dynamics around here, the better. And someone had to have seen something when Veronica and Kate disappeared, but they may not know they saw something important.”

  Mack stroked his dark-red goatee. “So you need us to interrogate witnesses?”

  “Not interrogate,” I said quickly. “Just pay attention to what people are saying and how they’re reacting. I already discovered the bride’s sister thinks Veronica is staging this entire thing to get attention.”

  Alexandra shook her head. “I wouldn’t put anything past a bride these days.”

  “Even if the bride was crazy enough to stage a kidnapping for attention, Kate would never go along with it,” I said.

  “Of course she wouldn’t.” Mack put a hand to his mouth. “The kidnapping must be real. Oh, our poor Katie.”

  “None of that,” I said, feeling my eyes water. “We can’t help Kate if we’re upset.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” Mack sniffed and squared his shoulders. “You can count on us to be an extra set of eyes and ears.”

  “Two extra sets,” Buster added.

  “Don’t forget me,” Alexandra said. “I can be quite persuasive when I want to be. Are there any men we need to question?”

  I started to tell her no, then I remembered how men reacted to the beautiful baker. “Actually, there are plenty of men around here I’d love to know more about.”

  She undid her high ponytail and let her chestnut brown hair spill across her shoulders. “Point me in the right direction.”

  “There are three men in the immediate family: the bride’s father, her brother, and her fiancé. I think the fiancé is harmless, although I think he’s in way over his head with this family. Reese and Richard are supposed to be talking to the father, although I’m afraid to know how that’s going.”

  “Leaving the bride’s brother,” Alexandra said. “What’s his story?”

  “I don’t know much about him except what the mother’s personal assistant mentioned. She doesn’t seem to think much of him, although she doesn’t have a high opinion of any of the Hamilton kids. According to her, there’s no love lost between the siblings. I do know the brother is supposed to take over his father’s business, so he might have a vested interest in how this ransom will affect the company.”

  “Any idea where he might be?” Alexandra asked.

  “Actually, yes.” I snapped my fingers. “The groom was playing pool with him in the billiards room a little while ago. They’re probably still there.”

  “The billiards room?” Alexandra’s perfectly arched brows arched higher.

  “It looks just like it sounds.” I pointed behind her. “Go down the long hall off the foyer and past the living room, study, and library.”

  “Fair warning,” I told her as she headed across the large room. “If the groom is still with him, you’ll be getting two for the price of one.”

  Alexandra waved a hand over one shoulder. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Mack nudged me once she’d left the room. “I’m glad she’s on our side. She can be a little intimidating.”

  Buster nodded. “Like a black widow spider that eats the male after mating with him.”

  I opened my mouth to disagree with them, but found their description more fitting than I’d have liked to admit. I was used to Kate’s lighthearted flirting, but Alexandra definitely gave off a more sultry and seductive vibe. I suspected most men didn’t stand a chance against her exotic beauty and practiced charms.

  “But she’s our black widow,” I finally said.

  “I hope she knows not to seduce the groom,” Mack said. “The last thing we need is to get the bride back and have him call off the wedding because he thinks he’s in love with the cake baker.”

  “She knows better than that,” I said before stopping to think about it. “At least I think she does.”

  Buster crossed his arms over his burly chest. “You sure?”

  “I’d better clarify,” I said, heading toward the doorway she’d disappeared through.

  “Good luck,” Mack called after me.

  I walked as quickly as I could without breaking into a run, passing the living room with its vaulted ceiling. Before I reached the study, a woman stepped into the hall, and I nearly collided with her.

  “Where’s the fire, hon?” The middle-aged woman with curly brown hair took a step back from me.

  Something about the woman rang a bell. “Sorry. I’m the wedding planner, Annabelle Archer.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “My sister has talked about you. Good things.” She held out a hand. “I’m the bride’s aunt, Connie.”

  No wonder she looked familiar. She had the same blue eyes as the mother of the bride, although she looked older and clearly hadn’t had the advantage of expensive skin care and Botox. Luckily for Aunt Connie, she didn’t look as weathered as her mother. “How is your sister doing?”

  “She’s beside herself, and her husband is worthless, as usual.”

  I tried not to show my surprise at her harsh words for her brother-in-law, especially as I remembered what Sherry had told me about the sister and how Mrs. Hamilton had been secretly sending her money for years. If she felt any gratitude for the Hamilton money, she hid it well.

  “You don’t think Mr. Hamilton is doing everything possible to save his daughter?” I asked.

  She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, pushing up her sun-damaged cleavage so I had to make a point to avert my eyes. “I think if he has a choice between saving himself or saving his family, he’ll pick himself every time.”

  This was not what I wanted to hear. If the father didn’t pay the ransom, not only was Veronica in danger, so was Kate. I knew for the Hamiltons my assistant was an afterthought, but she wasn’t for me. “I hope you’re wrong. My assistant was taken too.”

  Aunt Connie pressed her lips together as she backed away. “I’m real sorry for you. I hope for your sake the lying sack of manure comes through this time.”

  She left me with my mouth hanging open and more questions that needed answers. I forced myself to keep going down the hall, knowing I still needed to find Alexandra and warn her off seducing anyone. I paused as I drew even with the open door to the father’s study.

  “Of course I know who’s behind all this,” the father of the bride’s voice carried out to the hall. “He’s even a guest at the wedding.”

  Chapter 14

  I peered into the study, my eyes adjusting to the darker woods and richer colors of the room. From the crack in the door, I could see the massive wooden desk carved with an intricate scrollwork pattern and one of the walls of shelves. A thick Persian rug in shades of burgundy and gold covered the floor, and I saw two pairs of legs facing the desk. I recognized Richard’s beige pants and Reese’s jeans, but I did not see a third pa
ir. The father of the bride must be sitting behind the desk.

  “The kidnapper is a guest at your daughter’s wedding?” Reese asked, his voice carrying out of the room.

  I pressed my back against the wall and edged my ear closer to the crack in the door, making a conscious effort to quiet my breathing. The last thing I wanted was to be caught snooping.

  “I didn’t say he kidnapped Veronica,” Mr. Hamilton said. “Did I say that? Well, I didn’t mean that exactly. What I meant was this never would have happened if my competitors hadn’t made so much noise about me winning the DOD contract.”

  “Which competitor?” Reese asked.

  “You wouldn’t know the name unless you know about the pharmaceutical industry. Aren’t you a sommelier?”

  “Yes, he is,” Richard said. “Why don’t you try this Pinot Noir? It’s assertive without being pushy and has a hint of cherry in the finish.”

  I heard the sound of wine being poured into a glass, and I tilted my head to get a better look. As I suspected, Mr. Hamilton sat in his wingback leather chair with several wine glasses lined up in front of him. His attention was focused on the red wine he swirled in a crystal goblet so he didn’t see me, but I saw enough to recognize the full head of dark hair and relatively unlined face.

  My encounters with him during the wedding planning had been brief, but I’d been struck by how young he looked for a father of the bride. He didn’t have the receding hairline or middle-age paunch most fathers of a certain age claimed. Instead, he had thick, wavy brown hair, a trim waist, and the golden skin of a frequent golfer or someone who frequented a tanning bed. I suspected the former.

  “I like it, but I shouldn’t be talking about wine at a time like this.”

  “Your wife has insisted we carry on with the wedding plans because Veronica will be back in time,” Richard said. “We don’t want to make her angry.”

  Mr. Hamilton laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “No, we don’t. I suppose she’s right. We need to keep ourselves in the mindset that our daughter will be back home soon.”

  “All you have to do is pay the ransom, right?” Reese asked.

  The father hesitated. “In theory. The reality of procuring the ransom is more complicated.”

  “Oh?” Reese prodded.

  “I shouldn’t talk about it. Not until it’s finalized and my assistant has procured it for me to deliver. We should probably get back to the wines.” He took another drink. “We’re serving this one on the bar or with dinner?”

  “On the bar,” Richard said at the precise moment Reese said, “With dinner.”

  “We can do both is what we mean,” Richard said, and I saw him shoot Reese a look.

  “My wife mentioned you two are a couple.” He gestured to Richard and Reese, and I noticed both men shift. “I think that’s great. Live and let live, am I right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Richard said, but I could tell he was biting back the urge to deny his fake relationship with my boyfriend.

  “Are you planning to get married?” Mr. Hamilton asked. “Since you can?”

  “No,” both men said emphatically.

  The father’s eyes widened at the strong reactions. “Too early? I get it. If you ask me, my daughter rushed into this marriage. I don’t know why everyone’s in such a hurry. They’ve got their whole lives to be miserable.” He threw his head back and laughed.

  Richard and Reese both laughed politely, but I could tell Richard was seething at the indignity of pretending to be involved with a straight man like Reese. Not to mention, a straight man he didn’t like in the first place. I knew that although Reese was definitely handsome, he wasn’t nearly stylish or coiffed enough for Richard’s taste.

  “What do you think about the Pinot?” Mr. Hamilton asked when he’d stopped laughing at his own joke. “You’re the expert after all.”

  Reese glanced quickly at Richard. “I’d agree with Richard. It’s offensive without being mushy.”

  Richard groaned as the father scratched his head. “He means metaphorically. The palette isn’t muddled.”

  The father took another swallow. “I see what you mean.” He set the glass of Pinot Noir back on the desk. “Don’t we have the Cabernet Sauvignon for dinner?”

  “We did have the Cab to go with the rack of lamb,” Richard leaned forward with a second bottle and poured some in a glass. “Why don’t you try it again?”

  I jerked my head back as the father looked up and reached for the new glass.

  “I probably shouldn’t drink too much. My wife is already livid at me. If she thinks I’m drinking when I should be out saving our daughter, she’ll take me to the cleaners.”

  “This isn’t drinking,” Richard said. “This is wine tasting. Your wife can’t be upset at you for trying to make sure the wedding is perfect.”

  “If there is a wedding,” Mr. Hamilton’s voice slurred slightly.

  “Once Veronica is back, I’m sure we can proceed as planned,” Richard said.

  I heard Mr. Hamilton give a deep sigh. “If I get her back. It’s not as simple as it sounds.” He lowered his voice. “Between us, the kidnappers are asking for some of the nerve agent my company has developed, not money. That’s why it’s taking so long to get it.”

  I put my eye to the crack in the door as Richard refilled the father’s glass. “This is more full-bodied with jammy flavors and a hint of clove.”

  “And this is a problem?” Reese asked.

  Mr. Hamilton took a gulp. He was clearly past the wine-tasting stage and fully into self-medicating. “I’ve been developing this product for the government. If I give it to the kidnappers, not only is it treason, it’s probably terrorism. I could go to prison, and my company would be destroyed.”

  “Who do you think would want to get their hands on the nerve agent?” Reese asked.

  Mr. Hamilton leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. “Any number of fringe terrorist organizations, not to mention the countries who conduct chemical warfare. I wouldn’t even know how to narrow the list.”

  Reese rocked back on his heels. “And the project wasn’t secret?”

  Mr. Hamilton opened his eyes. “It was supposed to be, but like I said, my competitors made a big stink about me winning the contract. They claim I used political influence, but who doesn’t these days? I’m convinced they were the ones that leaked information about what I was developing. It’s no secret now what we were working on and that we’ve finalized the formula and made it stable.”

  “Why would they do that?” Reese asked while Richard topped off the father’s glass.

  “To make me look bad.” The father raked a hand through his hair. “I still don’t know how they found out what they did, but this project has been consumed by leaks from the start. And now this.” He blinked a few times and focused on Reese. “What did you say about this wine again?”

  Reese paused. “It’s full-bodied and hammy.”

  I could hear Richard’s sharp exhale.

  The father smacked his lips. “You know, I think I can taste the ham.”

  “I must be losing my mind,” Richard muttered.

  “And you said one of your competitors will be at the wedding?” Reese asked.

  “Tarek Nammour of NK Enterprises.” He grimaced as he said the name. “We run in the same social circles and our wives are friends. My wife insisted on them being on the guest list.”

  I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from gasping out loud. Tarek Nammour was the name of the man Sherry said Mrs. Hamilton was having an affair with. Was it possible her lover was involved with the kidnapping, and did that mean Mrs. Hamilton was as well? I couldn’t believe the bride’s mother would harm her own child, but truth be told, I didn’t know her well, and the secrets in the Hamilton family seemed to be piling up pretty high.

  “Why don’t you take a sip of the Pinot again?” Richard suggested, glaring at Reese. “To get rid of the ham flavor.”

  “You think he would be involved in kid
napping your daughter?” Reese asked, ignoring Richard’s stare.

  Mr. Hamilton balled his fists, opening and closing them several times, then slumped back in his chair. “I think he’d love to see my company go down in flames, but I doubt even he would do something this despicable. Not when our children have grown up together.”

  A line of men wearing floor-length velvet cloaks the color of Merlot, white masks, and velvet hats paraded by me. I recognized them as part of our path of masks that would line the footpath leading guests from the ceremony to the reception. When the bride had added the twenty additional costumed attendants, we’d already been well past the point of overkill, but seeing them in an ominous row reminded me what a spectacle we were producing. Dismantling this wedding would take almost as much effort as assembling it had.

  The troupe was dressed early, so I was glad I could cross that off my checklist, although men in white pointed masks and head-to-toe velvet parading through the house did give me pause. Sidney Allen had insisted it would add to the romantic Venetian atmosphere. I thought they were seriously creepy. I tried to act casual as the masked men marched by. I crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against the wall as if I’d merely stopped in the hall for a rest.

  When they passed, I twisted around so I could peek into the study again.

  The father held up a glass of red wine. “Definitely the Cabernet for dinner, but I’d like to put it on the bar for after dinner as well.”

  “Excellent decision.” Richard gave a slight bow of his head. “Some guests will want to continue enjoying it afterward.” He lowered his voice. “Despite the ham aftertaste.”

  “We ordered several microbrews for the bar, didn’t we?” Mr. Hamilton asked. “My son and his friends don’t have an appreciation for wine yet, but they like their beers to be expensive.”

  “A few of the best,” Richard said. “Will the younger men drink wine with dinner?”

  “Who knows?” The father waved a hand in the air. “These boys don’t seem to want to grow up. My son was supposed to take over my company, but he’s more interested in socializing than working. Would you believe Veronica is the one with the head for business? And she has a better nose for wines.” He put his head in his hands. “Not only did they kidnap my oldest daughter, but they kidnapped the incoming CEO.”

 

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