"A restraining order? How did DeSoto get a judge to grant him an order against you?"
"Let's just say I got a little overly enthusiastic with my accusations. C'mon. I need coffee. We can get some at the canteen in the basement."
"Sam, you know better," she told him, following him past tall columns and into the building. "Obviously you must have found DeSoto."
He led her across the marble floor to the bank of elevators on the left and punched the down button. "Oh, I found him all right. But not until after the officer completed the report on the break-in at my apartment and I called someone to fix my door. Do you know that frame is over a hundred years old? Do you have any idea how much money it's going to cost to repair it? It has to be done to meet historic specifications, with salvaged wood. Can you even guess how hard that is to find?"
"Okay, okay," Jennifer soothed, trying to look inconspicuous as two men in business suits, both carrying briefcases, joined them to wait for the elevator. "You got the repairman over. Then what?"
"I went back to Hovey's offices."
"You didn't."
The elevator door slid open and all four of them stepped inside.
"The police weren't going to do anything," Sam told her. "Nothing was damaged except the door frame. Nothing was missing except my files. You know where that puts the incident on the priority list."
"Did the police ask you about Belle?"
"Not a word. Only if anything was stolen."
"So you got to the law offices..."
"And I waited around out back, along the only street with open parking, and I confronted DeSoto when he slipped out the back to get into his car."
"Great. Were his attorneys with him?"
"Only Trainer. He called the police."
"Oh, no, Sam. They arrested you?"
"Not exactly. But I had to show up in court this morning."
The elevator thunked to a stop and the doors opened again. Jennifer stepped out and turned to see one of the suited men pass Sam a business card. She caught something about "needing an attorney."
Sam thanked him and slipped the card into his pocket, then waited for the man to disappear down the hall. "Great place to pick up clients. Roam the halls of the courthouse."
"He's right, you know," Jennifer chastised him. "You should have had a lawyer with you. I can't believe the judge actually granted the order against you. He must have determined you were a danger to DeSoto."
"The man invaded my home."
"A danger to him, not to you, Sam. And you don't know for certain it was DeSoto," Jennifer whispered as they swung through the door into the small canteen area. "You can't go around claiming—"
"Were you listening in when the judge lectured me?"
Calm, cool, Sam. The very soul of logic, until someone invaded his personal space. And threatened people that he cared about.
"How did he react?"
"The judge was not pleased."
"No, I mean DeSoto. What did he do when you yelled at him?"
"He was indignant. Furious. He used a few word combinations even I hadn't heard before."
"Picked those up in prison, I'd guess."
"Right. A hotbed for new vocabulary."
"What can I get for you?" the man behind the counter asked.
"Two coffees and..." he looked around the display. The only things to eat were prepackaged. "Got any sandwiches?"
"Sure, over in the refrigerator case." He pointed against the wall.
"Okay, I'll have a ham and—"
"They're all the same price. Just go pick one out."
"Okay, make that two whatevers. That okay with you?"
She nodded her head. She had to meet Leigh Ann during her lunch hour, and she wouldn't have a chance to grab anything else to eat.
The man poured the coffee into Styrofoam cups, capped them and pushed them forward. Sam gave him a twenty and got his change, and they headed to the case. Ham and cheese for Sam. Egg salad for her. Then they found a tiny table in the back corner.
"Did you mention Belle?" Jennifer asked, slipping into a chair.
"Of course not. I gave DeSoto hell for my door. If there was even the remotest possibility that he wasn't the one who broke into my place, or that he hadn't figured out she'd been staying with me, I wasn't about to tell him."
At least he'd had enough wits about him not to tell all he knew. "Sam, you can't do this." She unwrapped her egg salad sandwich. She didn't even want to know when it was made.
"I know."
"Please. Promise me. If DeSoto is a killer... I couldn't bear for anything to happen to you."
"Don't worry about it. The judge says DeSoto and I are not to come within five-hundred feet of each other."
And with a good rifle and a decent scope, that'd be plenty close enough.
Chapter 22
"The woman had good taste, I'll say that much for her," Leigh Ann said, touching the lace on a Gawain gown hanging at La Boutique Nuptiale. "Ooooh. They always look so cute in these tiny sizes," she declared, taking down a size 2 wedding dress and holding it in front of her. Leigh Ann had insisted that she come along with Jennifer to look at dresses. As far as she was concerned, it was better than lunch any day.
When they'd arrived at the shop, the lone clerk had been busy at the register filling out an order with a young woman who looked to still be in high school. Leigh Ann had grabbed Jennifer and headed straight for the dresses.
"Don't you wish you could fit into this dress?" Leigh Ann gushed.
"No. My skeleton's bigger than that." Jennifer grabbed hold of the price tag. "And for what it cost, it should look stunning in a size eighteen. You didn't have to come along, you know."
"But I wanted the dress assignment. And it's not fun to look by yourself."
"We're not looking," Jennifer reminded her. "We're trying to find out if Suzanne Gray bought a wedding dress. That looks to be about your size."
Leigh Ann held the beaded, strapless, floor-length gown in shimmering satin in front of her. "My size? Oh, no. I wear a four. It's huge next to this one."
Must be all in the perspective.
"How long do you think the woman who wears this will stay a size two?" Leigh Ann asked.
"Until she has a piece of wedding cake."
"Had Suzanne pulled out a specific fabric sample?"
"Not that I could tell. Belle was all over everything."
"The nerve of that Belle woman. Why Sam ever let her step foot in his apartment—"
"He's a good guy. He does the knight-in-shining-armor thing well."
"You mean he's dumb about women."
"Yes, at least as far as this one goes."
"So you don't really have any idea what Suzanne might have selected."
"No, but the woman was almost forty. You wouldn't expect her to choose something strapless."
"If I were choosing a wedding dress to freeze to death in, it'd be a full-length white velvet."
"And you'd accessorize it with a parka, which would defeat the whole purpose."
Leigh Ann grinned. "You know me so well. Actually I'd add one of those little bolero jackets trimmed in fake white fur, fake because I wouldn't want any animals harmed just so I could look good when I died and because I know you'd never let me hear the end of it. But then I'd be dead so I guess it wouldn't matter anyway. Oh, and I'd add a little pillbox entirely covered in matching fur. What was Suzanne wearing when they found her?"
"A simple white dress, gloves, her hair ribbon, a pair of panty hose, and her bra and panties. And shoes."
"No slip?"
"No."
"She'd need a slip to make the lines fall right. I'd have suggested one of those slimming all-in-ones with the bra built in. They do wonders," Leigh Ann assured her.
"She was just dressing to die," Jennifer reminded her.
"Precisely my point. It was the last impression. She would want to look good. From what you've said, she was doing it up right. Any jewelry?"
"Small pearl earrings."
"Classic. No engagement ring?"
"No. That is odd, isn't it?"
"Maybe she was afraid of its being stolen. Personally, I wouldn't kill myself for someone who hadn't even given me at least a two-carat diamond. What do you think of this one?" Leigh Ann asked, pulling from the rack a sleek off-one-shoulder gown in antique colored silk. Its full, floor-length skirt was inset with lace panels that were accented with seed pearls.
"I think it's probably not what Suzanne would have selected," Jennifer reminded her.
"So that was all she had on? Everything they gave back to the sister? What does that do to your something-borrowed theory?"
"There was one other item. An anklet with a single charm, the only item Marjorie didn't recognize. And Suzie didn't know it either. Marjorie said Suzanne wore the earrings a lot."
"That would have been her something old," Leigh Ann suggested. "The anklet must have been her something borrowed. You don't have anything else for it. I don't suppose she happened to have a handkerchief."
"No handkerchief. I've already given you the entire inventory."
Leigh Ann continued to paw through the racks. "What she was wearing, was it something like this?"
Jennifer turned. It was a straight street-length sheath, this one in satin, but suddenly she could see Suzanne standing there wearing it, drawing back her dark hair with that blue ribbon, a determined look on her face.
No, wait. If that were the case, it wouldn't have been murder and in her heart, she knew it was. Because in her mind's eye, she could see Suzanne, wearing that dress, sitting down, taking up a pen and, tears falling, writing her suicide note. Writing it, darn it, not typing the thing on a computer or some typewriter.
"We've got to talk to a salesclerk. You'd think with no more people in the store, the clerk would be all over us trying to help."
"Oh. That first woman left and now she's busy with some woman over there." Leigh Ann pointed and Jennifer looked past the rack to see the clerk in deep conversation. When the woman turned, Jennifer stood stunned. Belle Renard.
She was supposed to be lying low at Jennifer's apartment.
"Oh, my goodness," Leigh Ann squeaked. "Do you see who that is? You know Belle really is the perfect woman. Just look at her. All that curly reddish brown hair. Dimples. Great figure. Fabulous—"
"Stuff a sock in it. What's she doing here?"
"Oh, Jen, and you let her convince you the threat wasn't real. She's obviously looking for a dress for her wedding to Sam. You poor thing. I told you that woman plans to marry Sam."
Jennifer growled. She couldn't help it. "You did not and she is not. If I had to guess, I'd say she's here doing exactly what we're doing. But why?"
Leigh Ann peeked over a rack. "She's helping Sam, too, just like you are. Look, the saleswoman is shaking her head." Suddenly Leigh Ann disappeared among a fluff of fabric, and Jennifer felt a hand grab her, dragging her in with her. "She's coming this way." They peeked through the lace, watching Belle walk dangerously close and then out through the front entrance. A little bell signaled her exit.
"If Belle is so terrified of Simon DeSoto, what the heck is she doing here, wandering around in broad daylight?" Leigh Ann whispered.
"Can I help you ladies?" The clerk stared down at them, none too pleased.
"Yes, you can." Jennifer tried to find some dignity as she untangled herself from lace and satin. She grabbed Leigh Ann's arm and jerked her upright.
"Does Suzanne Gray have a dress on order for a June wedding?"
"How odd. A woman was just in here asking if anyone had been inquiring about the same account. I'll tell you what I told her. We keep our customers' purchases confidential. If you were getting married, I'm certain you wouldn't want us to divulge information about your gown."
"I don't suppose if I said that you could tell anyone who asks about my buying habits, that you'd tell me about this one."
The clerk smiled and shook her head. "Suzanne Gray. That name sounds awfully familiar."
"That's right," Leigh Ann jumped in. "She has the same name as that woman who killed herself in the cemetery. Isn't that awful? I'd hate it if someone had my name and did something like that. I mean, then everybody would be coming up to me and saying, 'Aren't you dead?'"
"That would be most disconcerting," the clerk agreed, "but just why do you need to know about your Suzanne Gray?"
"Okay, Jennifer," Leigh Ann said, giving her a little shove forward. "Go ahead and tell her."
Jennifer frowned. What the heck was Leigh Ann doing now?
"Tell her how..." Leigh Ann began, "...how Suzanne stole your entire wedding plans, how she swore she was going to wear exactly the same dress that you bought for your wedding for her wedding, the very week before yours. All the same guests are invited. We've already been to the florist and the bakery. She ordered the same flowers and the same wedding cake. Poor Jennifer had her heart set on a particular dress, this dress."
She grabbed the strapless size two off the rack.
"Yes. That is a lovely selection. It's close to two thousand dollars."
"Exactly. We need to know before we order it. With cash," Leigh Ann insisted. "And if you won't help us, we'll just have to take our business elsewhere. We've had to change all the other arrangements. If she's stolen the dress, too..."
"Are you serious?" the woman asked.
Leigh Ann nodded her head vigorously. "It's pathetic really. You see they're marrying brothers. Only Jennifer got the good one—cute, thoughtful, successful. Suzanne wanted him, I mean she really wanted him. Only Jennifer came along and it was love at first sight. Just look at her. Who wouldn't fall in love with that sweet face?"
Leigh Ann nudged her and Jennifer tried to smile, despite the scowl between her eyes. Just wait until she had Leigh Ann alone. She was going to pay for this one.
"So Suzanne scooped up the other brother." Leigh Ann made a big dipping motion with her arms. "Jennifer set her wedding date, and then Suzanne set hers for one week before, in the same church. Suzanne has stolen every one of Jennifer's plans, right down to the blush of peach on the white roses she planned to carry, the caramel fudge wedding cake, and the little starbursts surrounding their names on the napkins. Jennifer and Oswald."
"Oswald?" Jennifer scowled anew.
"She calls him Ozzie. I forgot. Don't worry, Jen. That's what's printed on the napkins. I know because I ordered them. The only thing poor Jennifer has left is the dress she's wanted to wear ever since she was a little girl, this Gawain original."
"This dress is new this year, part of his spring collection."
"Well, I know. It's as though this Gawain himself knew the time was right for Jennifer to get married and designed it just exactly like she'd always dreamed it. You can't let her be humiliated by purchasing the same gown as Suzanne. You just can't. You'd never get another wink of sleep. I know I wouldn't."
Leigh Ann gasped, let out a sob, and covered her face with a tissue. Jennifer saw one of Leigh Ann's eyes peep out to study the clerk. Good grief. She couldn't take Leigh Ann anywhere.
The clerk took a deep breath, and Jennifer prepared for a loud call for security. "If she bought that dress, I'll find it in our data base. The nerve of some people. I've heard a lot of strange wedding stories, but this one is outrageous."
Jennifer couldn't agree more.
They followed the woman to the desk where she typed in Suzanne's name.
"Are you certain she shopped in this store?"
"That's where the swatches she had came from," Jennifer assured her. "By the way, that's Gray with an a."
"Okay. I've got it. A basic size twelve, completed last week and scheduled to be fitted yesterday."
"That means it was ready, that she could have picked it up," Jennifer said.
"Well, yes. Except for the alterations. But she seems to have missed her appointment." The clerk looked up and beamed. "Goodness. She ordered this dress back in November."
"You're kidding," Jennifer said, lo
oking over the woman's shoulder at the screen. That was only about a month after Suzanne had first met Richard.
"These orders do take time. I'd suggest you get yours in immediately, certainly no later than next week, and even then we'll have to put a rush on it." She tapped a pencil impatiently against the monitor and then she smiled. "But you don't have to worry. This doesn't look at all like the dress you selected."
She turned the screen so Jennifer could see. There were two photos of the gown, one from the front and one from the back. It was lovely, with a lace overdress featuring a keyhole neckline. The strapless underdress was done in satin. The lace sleeves ended in a V over the back of each hand. The bodice was fitted, the skirt slightly gathered. Seed pearls and sequins were everywhere. The back view showed tiny covered buttons running from the neck all the way down the back to the start of an elegant train.
"I can pull up a photo of the veil she selected as well if you'd like," the clerk suggested.
Jennifer shook her head. She'd seen enough of Suzanne's shattered dreams.
"Ooooh. I want to see," Leigh Ann insisted.
"Tell me," the clerk went on, "who was that woman who was in here just before you, the one who was asking if anyone had been in to check on this Suzanne Gray woman's dress?"
Darn. It was too much to hope that the clerk had forgotten all about Belle.
"We haven't been totally honest with you," Leigh Ann began.
This was no time for a confessional.
"Actually there were three brothers, and—" Jennifer grabbed Leigh Ann's arm before she could get out another word. "C'mon."
"But don't you want to place the order?" the clerk asked as Jennifer dragged Leigh Ann toward the door.
"She'll be back," Leigh Ann promised. "I'll see to it." And with that Jennifer shoved her outside.
Chapter 23
"The deal was not that you go with me to the bridal boutique and then I go with you to the jewelers," Jennifer reminded Leigh Ann. "I was supposed to check on the dress; you were supposed to check on the ring."
"I know, I know, and I did but you've got to see this," Leigh Ann insisted, outside the door to Ziegler's Fine Jewelry. "You will not believe it."
Dying to Get Her Man Page 13