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Wedding Cake and Widows: A Comedy Cozy Mystery (Mom and Christy's Cozy Mysteries Book 8)

Page 4

by Christy Murphy


  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Don’t forget to bring your shoes for the fitting,” Briana reminded me.

  “I got your shoes.” Mom held up a promotional duffel bag. “You just remember your clothes.”

  “I want a duffel bag for my stuff,” Wenling said to Mom.

  I appreciated that Mom called my bridal undergarments clothes. I was a little too old to hear my mom tell me to change my underwear before I went out.

  Mom left with Wenling to get a duffel bag. They came back, bags in hand.

  “All ready to go?” Wenling asked.

  “We’re waiting on Celia. She’s late,” I said. “Oscar is already doing us a favor by letting us rearrange the fitting and working with the other dress shop in Florida for Edie’s dress. I don’t know if he’ll be able to book a special session just for Celia.”

  “Maybe she could meet us there,” Briana said.

  “I would tell her that if she ever called me back,” I grumbled.

  I checked my phone for the tenth time in the last two minutes. If everyone didn’t arrive on time, we’d miss the fitting for our bridesmaids’ dresses and my wedding gown.

  Celia, my evil cousin, was only a bridesmaid because Jennifer had to take her daughter to a national debate competition the day of the wedding.

  Why on earth did DC have to have six groomsmen?

  And now that I thought of it, I didn’t even know if Celia had ever paid for her dress. A part of me wondered if Mom had bought it.

  “Mom,” I started.

  “Why are you guys still here?” Darwin asked, entering the living room. He was wearing high heels, navy blue slacks, and a sailor shirt. No matter what Darwin wore, he always made a statement. It could be the fact that he was over six feet tall even without high heels. His makeup was subtle but perfect. “You should be on your way to meet Oscar. He’s a stickler for being on time.”

  Oscar, the owner of the dress shop, was a friend of Dar-dar’s who’d customized several of his pageant gowns. Darwin—Dar-dar was his nickname—had been a Miss Mister beauty pageant winner in Cebu. He’d competed in two pageants here in Los Angeles and won Miss Congeniality, a.k.a. the Sandra Bullock award, and second runner-up. Darwin said that if he was younger, he would’ve won.

  “We’re waiting for Celia,” I said.

  Dar-dar shot me a knowing look. “That cousin of yours needs to be set straight, girl. I don’t think she’s taking her wedding commitment seriously.”

  “I’d do it, but she won’t pick up her phone,” I complained.

  Darwin whipped out his cell phone and called what I assumed was Celia’s number. Did she know he was with us?

  “Hey girl,” Darwin said into his phone. “What are you up to?” He listened. “What are you doing in Boston? You’re supposed to be here meeting Christy to get fitted for your bridesmaid’s dress.”

  Darwin stepped away from us in what I assumed was an attempt to spare me the bad news. But if Celia was in Boston, there was no way she was going to make this fitting.

  I followed Darwin a few steps down the hallway, attempting to overhear the conversation.

  “You know what,” Dar said into the phone, “I don’t think she really needs you in the bridal party, anyway.”

  He hung up the phone and turned to me. “She’s in Boston at some sort of conference, and then she was talking about seeing if you could change the date of the wedding.”

  “I can’t believe her! Who the heck would ask me to change the wedding?” I asked.

  “What about changing the wedding?” Mom called out from the living room.

  “Celia’s in Boston!” I said, heading back there.

  “What?” Mom gaped.

  “Maybe you should just tell DC that he can only have two groomsmen,” Wenling said.

  I knew what Wenling was trying to do. I had to twist her arm to get her to agree to be a bridesmaid. She thought she was too old. Mom had wanted to be the person to give away the bride, but I convinced her that James, my brother, could do that. She seemed to like the idea that all of us were going to be part of the wedding party.

  “No,” I said. “His brother is his best man, and then he had a hard time picking between several of the guys on the force. So he had to choose all of them, or choose none of them.”

  “Well, couldn’t you just have a maid of honor, and he’d only have a best man?” Wenling asked.

  “He can’t un-invite his groomsmen,” I said. “Plus, you already paid for the dress.”

  “It’s a nice dress,” Wenling said. “I’m sure I could wear it somewhere else.”

  “Where?” Mom asked. “Are you going to show up to the Lucky Dragon in a pastel blue evening dress?”

  “I could,” Wenling argued.

  “Well,” Briana weighed in, trying to be diplomatic, “it doesn’t always have to even up. Or maybe we can get someone else.”

  “Who?” Dar-dar asked. “There’s no way Oscar could do all the alterations in time. He’s already booked well in advance.”

  The most obvious solution of all came to me. “Dar-dar,” I said. “Will you be a bridesmaid?”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Mom said.

  Dar squealed and hugged me. “My first bridesmaid dress. This is going to be so fantastic! And, I bet I could make Celia pay for part of my dress.”

  “It’s probably going to fit a little differently on you,” I said.

  Dar-dar had really long legs, and Celia was only five foot three.

  “Oscar can make it work,” Dar-dar said as we all headed to the van.

  “This is perfect,” Wenling said. “The Nancy Drew crew is all in the bridal party. Now it’ll be easier to keep the case a secret.”

  “What case?” Dar-dar asked.

  Mom glared at Wenling.

  “He lives with you,” Wenling said. “You weren’t going to tell him about finding the dead body in the pool?”

  “What?” Dar folded his arms. “It’s one thing to forget to invite me to be your bridesmaid. It’s another thing to keep me from a juicy mystery.”

  He was mad, and the odds of us keeping the lid on this case didn’t look good. But I didn’t have time to worry about it. We were running late.

  5

  I exited the fitting room dressed in my sweatpants to find that everyone had changed into nicer clothes.

  Mom looked up at me. “Where are your regular clothes?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked her.

  “I told you not to forget your clothes,” Mom answered.

  “Oh! That’s what you meant.” I didn’t want to say what I thought she meant.

  “It’s fine. We don’t need to impress him, anyway. Hurry! We’ve got to go to the bakery afterward on important cake business,” Mom added.

  I wondered what was going on with the cake, but there was no time to ask. Everyone was practically out the door already.

  I unlocked the passenger door for Mom and Wenling and then unlocked the back door for Briana and Dar-dar.

  “I’m going back here with you guys,” Wenling said. “I can’t watch Christy drive.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” Mom said to her friend.

  “You closed your eyes three times on the way here,” Wenling said to Mom. “And you’re the one who rides around on that crazy motorcycle.”

  “Mom, do they have you in a safety harness or something for that, because that looks really dangerous,” I said, in a feeble attempt to change the subject.

  “Not as dangerous as your driving,” Wenling mumbled as she hopped into the back of the van.

  Mom rolled her eyes, and I hurried to get into the driver’s seat. After barely grinding the gears at all, we exited the parking lot of the dress shop; I turned onto Hubbard.

  “You’re going to take the freeway,” Mom asked. “Getting more confident, kid.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but I thought I heard a tinge of fear in Mom’s voice.

  A knock on the window betwe
en the back of the van and the front seat scared me for a second. I fought from swerving too hard.

  Mom braced herself and then pretended like nothing happened as she slid open the window.

  “Let’s talk hair and makeup on the way,” Dar-dar said.

  “We’re using your friend Rebecca for makeup,” Mom said.

  “And we’re doing our own hair,” Briana added.

  “Not the bride though, right?” Dar asked.

  “No,” Mom said. “I’ve got Christy booked at Charleston’s Salon in Mission Hills.”

  “Up do?” Dar asked.

  “Yes,” Mom answered for me.

  “So we should all wear our hair down,” Dar-dar said.

  “Agreed,” Briana joined in.

  “I always wear my hair down,” Wenling said.

  Wenling had a very short bob that didn’t even reach her chin. “Down” didn’t describe it.

  “Maybe you could get extensions,” Dar suggested.

  Wenling laughed. “My hair is longer than yours.”

  “I’m going to wear a wig. I’ll go brunette since the bridesmaids are all brunette,” he said. “What shade of eye makeup are we doing?”

  I glanced at Mom. She shrugged.

  “I’ll work it out with Rebecca,” he said.

  “We should go with something neutral and natural so the bride shines,” Briana suggested.

  “I agree,” Dar said. “I’m superb with subtle.”

  Wenling laughed. Mom smiled.

  Darwin ignored them. “Okay, so now that we’ve talked wedding, let’s talk the case. Fill me in.”

  Briana gave a recap of what had happened with some help from Wenling. Mom didn’t take part in the discussion of the case. She seemed consumed with texting someone on her phone.

  Briana showed Dar the pictures she’d taken.

  “He was so murdered!” Dar said after looking at the pictures and hearing what Ford had said on the phone.

  “No murder,” Mom said. “Accident.”

  “What kind of case is it if it’s an accident?” Dar asked.

  “A boring case,” Wenling answered. “And I think he was killed too.”

  Mom shook her head. “We have to be open-minded. It’s not a murder every single time somebody dies.”

  “You’re only saying that because of the wedding,” Wenling grumbled.

  “Then why are we investigating at all?” Dar asked.

  “Ford, the deceased’s son, thinks it’s a murder,” Briana explained. “He wants us to check out some fishy business at the car dealership.”

  “I need a car. Maybe I could get a discount,” Dar said.

  “So do I,” Mom added.

  “Mom, you haven’t driven in ages,” I said.

  “But you’re going to be moving out, and Dar-dar can drive me,” Mom said.

  “But if he buys a car, you can just ride with him,” Wenling said.

  “If I get one, I’ll definitely share with you, auntie,” Dar said.

  “Or we can share my car,” Mom said.

  “I’m good with that,” Dar agreed.

  I was worried Mom was spending too much money lately. I know commercials paid well when they were national, but did they pay that well?

  Dar-dar wasn’t really my cousin, but he considered Mom to be his aunt. My mom and his mom were close friends growing up. When we had gone to the Philippines to look into an old court case from Mom’s family, Darwin’s mother was the first person we visited.

  I exited the freeway and headed up the mountain to Shadow Hills.

  “This is nice,” Dar observed.

  “Patrick Swayze used to have a house around here,” Wenling said.

  “Fancy!” Dar said.

  The gate was open, so I drove through.

  “It’s like the White House!” Wenling said as I continued up the long drive.

  “Very fancy,” Dar added.

  Mom beamed. “This will be perfect. We’ve just got to convince Ford.”

  I noticed a car parked in the drive.

  “Oh! It’s a Mustang convertible. Do they sell those?” Dar asked.

  “Mustangs are made by Ford,” Mom said, marveling at the car.

  “Maybe we should get one,” Dar suggested.

  “Yeah,” Mom agreed.

  “I want one, too,” Wenling said.

  “I don’t think he’s going to give us all free cars. He only mentioned the possibility of a discount,” I said as I parked the van and put on the emergency brake.

  “He definitely won’t give us free cars with that kind of attitude,” Wenling mumbled.

  “Oprah gives away free cars,” Dar said.

  “He’s not Oprah,” I countered.

  As we all exited the van, an SUV sped up to the house, almost hitting the convertible.

  “I thought Christy’s driving was bad,” Wenling said.

  “I’ve gotten a lot better,” I said, which was true.

  “That’s a nice car, too,” Dar noted.

  “It’s a Ford Expedition. Maybe we should get one of those,” Mom said.

  “Mom, don’t they run around fifty thousand dollars?” I asked.

  Before Mom could answer, the SUV door opened. A woman about Mom’s age attempted to get out, but her seatbelt forced her back into her seat.

  After she wrestled with the seatbelt and untangled herself from the vehicle, she slammed the door and ran up to the house.

  We all traded a glance.

  “We should get in there,” Dar said.

  “Something is definitely going down,” Briana agreed.

  The five of us rushed up the steps. We heard shouting. Without even knocking, Wenling opened the door and entered the house. We all followed.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” an older woman yelled at the frazzled younger woman.

  “No, Sylvia! You shouldn’t be here. I’m in the family, you’re not!” The younger woman waved her left hand at Sylvia.

  “You didn’t!” Sylvia yelled.

  “What the heck is going on here?” Ford asked. I hadn’t even heard him come in.

  “I’m here to meet Cal. We’re going on our honeymoon,” the young woman said.

  Uh-oh. Cal Warrington’s new bride hadn’t heard that he’d died.

  6

  It took almost a half hour to stop Lexi, a.k.a. the new Mrs. Cal Warrington, from crying. Surprisingly, the older woman, who turned out to be Cal’s ex-wife, Sylvia, had been the only person who could console her. Not knowing what to do, we all just stood there in the living room while Sylvia and Lexi sat on the couch.

  “I can’t believe I’m already a widow,” Lexi whispered.

  “I know it hurts,” Sylvia said.

  “Well at least I’m a young widow. It was bumming me out that I was such an old bride,” Lexi said.

  Dar and I traded a look.

  “I just don’t know what to do. I feel so lost,” Lexi continued.

  She looked so forlorn. I couldn’t help but feel bad at how much I’d judged her as a gold digger. Lexi was young and thin, with perfect pale skin, jet-black hair with bangs, and blue eyes.

  “I understand,” Sylvia said. “My husband died two years ago.”

  “How long were you together?” Lexi asked.

  “Nine years,” Sylvia said.

  “Is that like almost a golden anniversary?” Lexi asked with awe.

  “Not quite,” Sylvia answered.

  “Listen, I need to show these guys around,” Ford interrupted. “Would you mind taking her to your place, Sylvia?”

  “Of course,” she said, leading Lexi to the front door. “Oh and Ford, I need to talk to you later. It’s really important.”

  Ford nodded.

  “I’m going to change the locks on the doors, for starters,” he said. “This whole case just keeps getting weirder.”

  “Can we sit down?” Dar asked. “My heels are killing me.”

  “Of course!” Ford motioned to the L-shaped leather sofa.

>   “I really appreciate you guys helping me out," he said. "It's impossible to get the police to take me seriously. But I just know that something's going on here."

  We all took our seats. Mom ran her hand along the sofa. I’d admired it, too.

  “Full grain leather,” Ford said.

  “So nice,” Wenling said, rubbing the sofa like it was a cat.

  “Anyway,” Ford began, “it didn't seem like the officers cared whether or not the crime scene was cleaned up. I left it as it was, so you can take a look at it.”

  “So it's not taped off or anything?” Briana asked.

  “As far as the police are concerned, it was a total accident,” Ford said.

  “Are they saying that because they assume he slipped by the pool, bumped his head, and then fell inside and drowned?” Mom asked.

  Ford nodded.

  “I’m really sorry about your father’s death,” I said, realizing that we all might be coming across as callous.

  “It’s likely that this was an accident,” Mom said. “I need you to agree that if it turns out that’s what happened, we’re going to have to call the case solved.”

  “Absolutely, but there’s so much weird stuff going on. First, there's been talk that someone might be embezzling from the dealership, and I think it’s Dad’s assistant. And I just found out that Dad had changed his will to include Lexi.”

  Wenling and Darwin’s eyes got wide.

  “Did both of them have keys to the house?” I asked.

  “I know Rhett, Dad’s assistant, did. And Lexi managed to get in here all by herself just now, so I guess she does too,” Ford said.

  “What gives you the impression that Rhett’s been embezzling from the dealership?” Mom asked.

  “I'm a silent partner of one of the lots here in the Valley, and my checks have been getting smaller and smaller.”

  “That could just be because your new manager isn’t as effective since your father retired,” Mom suggested.

  “True, but it's only been in the last year and a half that things have been getting worse and worse,” Ford said.

  “And is that about when the new assistant started?” Mom asked.

  “Rhett originally started just helping him around the house about two years ago, and within six months he was working at the dealership, too. And frankly, I wouldn’t have hired him for either job.”

 

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