A Toast to Murder

by Michele Scott

  “Deal. By the way, did you talk to him about those notes with the Greek signature on them?”

  “No.” Nikki frowned. She didn’t want to tell Alyssa that Derek had also been receiving them. Last night when they’d gone home, they’d agreed it was some stupid prank and their wedding day needed to be only about them. That was what they wanted to focus on. Once they were married and on to their honeymoon, all of this nonsense would go away. “It’s fine. Believe me. I don’t want to discuss it. I want to get married.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m a little worried is all.”

  “I’m fine.” Nikki gave her a hug. “Really. Promise.”

  Alyssa smiled at her. “Okay. I believe you. Now hurry and get the dress on. Time is ticking You can’t leave the groom waiting. Come on.”

  Simon picked up Violet. “I’ll go and check on the groom, and you’d better be ready when we return.”

  Simon left the room with Violet, and Alyssa helped Nikki into her gown. Her friend stood back and admired her after zipping up the back of the dress. The Badgley Mischka gown followed the length of Nikki’s silhouette, draping over her in silk. It had a sheer top layer of chiffon with tiny crystal beads sewn on about every few inches, giving the dress a shimmering effect. Across the neckline of the strapless beauty was an intricate row of the crystal beads. Alyssa took a step back. “You look amazing. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any bride look so beautiful. And that dress!” Her eyes welled up with tears. “You are stunning.”

  “You’re so sweet. Thank you.” She gave her friend a hug. “I don’t know how I could have done any of this without you. This week has been crazy and you’ve been a huge help.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve loved every minute of it.”

  Nikki smiled at her, but she couldn’t help but think of Isabella. She loved Alyssa and was truly thankful for all she’d done for her over the week, not the least of which had been distracting Patrice and keeping Nikki from killing Savannah, but there was this part of her that really wished Isabella was there. She’d never imagined that they wouldn’t be friends. But she did understand. Blood was thicker than water, and Nikki had broken her brother’s heart. But he seemed fine now. He’d apparently moved on. But with Renee Rothschild? That was such a disconcerting thought.

  Alyssa opened up the box that held the veil and took it out, draping it over Nikki’s head. It was a simple, long sheath of chiffon, with the same small beads throughout, secured on top of her head with a thin silk band.

  Nikki did a twirl and had to admit she felt like a princess. “You ready?” Alyssa asked.

  Nikki’s stomach sunk. “I think so.”

  “No more thinking about it. It’s now or never.”

  Nikki slicked on her lip gloss and put her hair back behind her ears—what little hair there was. She was kind of used to it by now. Simon returned and peeked around the door frame, Violet in his arms. “Lord have mercy. You do look rather Princess Grace.” He let out a low whistle. “Take my breath away.”

  “I have something for you,” Nikki said. “Take off your jacket,” she ordered Simon. She took a garment bag from the small closet in the dressing room and handed it over to him.

  “What’s this?” he asked. Nikki shrugged. He unzipped the bag and took out his new jacket. “Tails? Oh, you are the best! You’re my queen.”

  Nikki shook a finger at him. “No, I’m not. There’s only room for one queen in this wedding, and I don’t think I’m it.”

  Simon smiled. “Good point. You’re my princess then.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  “I think we’d better head over,” Alyssa said. “Time to go.” She tapped her watch.

  “I think we have a few minutes,” Simon said.

  Nikki took a quick look at the clock on the wall. “It is time.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Well, technically it is time. But there are still a lot of people coming into the church.”

  Nikki peered out the window again. “Parking lot looks full and I don’t see but a couple of people heading in.”

  “Trust me. There are some stragglers. Go powder your nose again. It looks a little shiny.”

  “I just did it,” Nikki replied.

  “No, it looks like an oil slick after the Exxon Valdez disaster.”

  Nikki crossed her arms in front of her. “What’s the problem, Jay Leno?”

  “No problem. Just making sure you’re as gorgeous as can be for this big day of all days to remember—this glorious day filled with love and life and joy. This is a day that will go down in in . . .”

  “Simon!”

  “What?” He looked at her, eyes wide. Violet laughed. “Oh, see, Daddy make a funny face? Funny face for Auntie Nikki’s big day. Yeah. Funny faces. You make a funny face with Daddy, and Aunt Nikki make a funny face, and Alyssa . . . ,” he sing-songed.

  “Derek isn’t here, is he?” Nikki interrupted Simon’s silly antics to try to distract her.

  He stopped, set Violet down and looked Nikki in the eyes. “No. He isn’t. But they are on the way. I know it.”

  Nikki found herself stuttering. “You know it? What do you know? Are you sure they’re on their way? Did you talk to Derek? How do you know for sure?” Her stomach twisted. A horrible feeling came over her. What if he’d changed his mind? What if this was one of those weddings where the groom suddenly changes his mind? Big did it to Carrie. Could Derek do it to Nikki?

  A tap at the door and everyone turned to look. Nikki looked at Alyssa who looked at Simon, who went to the door. He cracked it open. All Nikki could hear were whispers from the other side.

  Simon gently shut the door and clasped his hands together.

  “He doesn’t want to marry me, does he?” Nikki asked. “He’s not coming.”

  Ten

  “SHUT your mouth. Of course he wants to marry you. He’s waiting for you at the altar right now. Come on, drama queen, let’s get this show on the road.”

  “I could kill you,” she whispered as they walked out the door.

  “I was just spicing it up for you.”

  “I’ve had enough spice already. Thank you very much.”

  “Enough complaining. Stand tall. Be pretty. Chop-chop.”

  They turned the corner of the hall in the church and came to the closed doors. Nikki took a deep breath. Aunt Cara was supposed to be here walking her down the aisle. She turned to Simon. “Will you give me away?”

  He took a step back. “Oh, honey. Really?”

  She nodded. Tears filled both of their eyes.

  “Now stop that. We’ll mess up our mascara. Then we’ll look like a couple of raccoons. But can I give you away and be your maid of honor?”

  “It’s not exactly traditional, but so what? I love you. You’re my best friend and you’re going to be my brother now, so will you give me away?”

  “You bet, princess.” He kissed her cheek.

  Alyssa opened the doors for them. One of the ladies who worked the front desk at Malveaux came around and took Violet to go and sit with her. She also had Petie in tow.

  Alyssa started down the aisle. Nikki and Simon moved into position.

  Canon in D by Johann Pachelbel played as the wedding procession started down the aisle. “This is it. And if I haven’t told you before, I am happy to be getting you for a sister. And as far as a best friend, you sealed that deal when you let me wear the tails.”

  “Don’t make me laugh.” Nikki’s stomach was coiled up in a snake pit of nerves. The guests all stood, and Nikki and Simon proceeded down the aisle. Going past all of the people was like a blur—a sea of faces, most of whom she didn’t recognize. The church was packed. But as soon as she got about halfway down, Nikki’s eyes locked on Derek’s and the nerves went away, a smile spread across her face, and she knew that everything was going to be right with her world. The church was filled with stephanotis, the sent of the gorgeous tropical fragrance filled the church, candles were lit, and the music being played by t
he cellist seated in the choir loft resounded off the walls.

  They were partially down the aisle when the cellist stopped playing. Nikki went to take another step. Simon turned around to look back. A whizzing sound, almost as if a Learjet was flying past her ear, echoed through the church. Simon pushed her into an aisle of guests. Nikki went to lift herself up, but screams and a rush of panic went through the church.

  Complete mayhem played out as people ducked down in their pews. Nikki glanced over at Simon who was on the ground. That’s when Nikki saw it—blood. Simon’s blood. He’d been shot.

  Eleven

  “OH my God! Oh my God! Simon! Hey, man! Hey, man, talk to me. I’m right here.” Derek had bolted over to where Simon had fallen and was kneeling next to him.

  Simon’s face drained of color, his eyelids fluttering. “I don’t feel so good. It hurts. My arm hurts.”

  Blood stained the arm of the tuxedo and dripped onto the floor. Derek looked up at Nikki, his eyes pleading, but for what she didn’t know. It was all surreal, like a big blurry haze, and all she could do was stand there.

  Marco was out of breath, leaning over Simon. “Mi amor. Oh, mio dio!” Tears filled Marco’s eyes. “No, no, no, no! What is happening? How did this . . .”

  Nikki laid a hand on Marco’s shoulder. She heard people clamoring to get out of the church, and she heard Jonah’s voice echoing off the church walls. “No one move! Stay where you are! I’m with the police department! Remain in your seats!” He’d raced up the back stairs to the rectory—to where the shot had come from. A few seconds later he yelled out, “I need paramedics up here, too!”

  The cellist. Nikki brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the gasp. The poor woman. Oh, God. Please let her be okay. It had to be her, unless it was the shooter. It dawned on Nikki that whoever had just shot Simon could still be inside the church.

  “Mio dio. Mio dio,” Marco whispered. “He has to be well. He cannot be . . . he has to . . . Simon?”

  “Hi, love,” Simon whispered back weakly as Marco sat down by his head, stroking his hair. “My arm hurts. It aches,” he moaned.

  Nikki crouched down next to Simon and took his hand. “Hold still. Help is coming. Okay, sweetie. It’s going to be okay.” Nikki remembered reading over her Aunt Cara’s police procedural manuals and doing research during her acting days for a scene that felt vaguely familiar to what was taking place at this moment. She glanced at Derek. “Can we get the sleeve off of him?”

  His eyes wide, Derek began to shake his head. “I don’t . . .”

  “Look, if he’s bleeding a lot, we should do something to stop it. We need to put some kind of pressure on it.”

  “Sì! Yes, we must do that. Stop his bleeding,” Marco said.

  Tristan had come over next to them. “I have a pocket knife,” he said.

  “In your tux?” Nikki asked.

  He shrugged. “Swiss Army. It’s, uh, it was a gift. Sentimental.”

  “Who the hell cares? Let me have it,” Derek ordered. Tristan handed him the knife, and Derek gently cut the sleeve off of his brother’s arm.

  It didn’t appear that the bullet was lodged anywhere in Simon’s arm, but a decent part of his upper bicep was torn away and still bleeding. Nikki took off her veil and wrapped it tightly around his arm in hopes of stopping the bleeding.

  “Princess, no! Not the veil. God, no! It’s a Badgley Mischka for God’s sakes. What are you thinking?” Simon slurred.

  “Be quiet and just relax, okay? It’s fine.”

  “It hurts,” he moaned.

  “It is going to be okay, mi amor. Help is coming, yes?” Marco said.

  Nikki could hear the sounds of cell phones ringing. She knew that the word was getting out, as sirens could be heard in the distance.

  “Hang on, man. Ambulance is on the way. Just hang on,” Derek told him.

  Emergency lights flashed red from outside, their lights reflecting against the stained glass of the church. Feet were next to them—the sherriff’s and paramedics’. Someone told the paramedics that there was someone in the rectory who also needed help. Nikki was being asked to move. Standing to the side in her wedding gown, Nikki leaned against the pew, feeling faint. No. She couldn’t pass out. Simon needed her. Derek needed her. Marco needed her. Stay strong! As the paramedics took Simon’s vitals, orders from all around were shouted out. There was crying, wailing—somewhere. A little child’s cry. Violet. Where was she?

  “Violet!” Marco said.

  Nikki frantically searched the area to find the cries. She spotted Alyssa up near the front of the church, her face drained of color. “She’s with Alyssa. I see them.” Nikki ran down the aisle.

  “Nikki!” Derek yelled.

  She kept running, the long dress and high heels tripping her. She yanked up the dress above her ankles and kicked off the heels. Reaching Alyssa, Violet, and Petie, she said, “You have to get out of here. Take the children and go to my house. Get them out of here. Okay?”

  Alyssa nodded. “Is he . . .”

  “He’ll be fine. He will, but you have to get the kids away from here. Jonah!” Nikki yelled.

  He peered over the rectory wall and spotted them. He immediately sprinted down the back steps. Breathing hard, he took Petie into his arms.

  “They need to get out of here,” Nikki said.

  “I agree. Come on. I’ll have one of the deputies take you home. You okay, babe?” he asked.

  Alyssa nodded. “I think so.”

  “I need you to be okay for the kids. You gotta be strong here,” he said.

  “I am. I’m okay. I think we should go,” Alyssa replied.

  “Stay here,” Jonah ordered Nikki. “You’re okay?” She nodded. “Good thinking.”

  “The cellist?” Nikki asked.

  “She’s okay. He knocked her out cold. Got a good bump on the back of her head, but it looks as though she’ll be all right. Paramedic is with her now.”

  “Thank God.” Nikki could feel cold seeping into her bones as another drizzle misted outside through the air. She began to shiver but more so from shock than a chill. Jonah held Petie in one arm, his other protectively around Alyssa and Violet. Marco gave Violet a kiss good-bye. Jonah assured him that she would be fine as he escorted them outside of the church.

  The paramedics loaded Simon onto a stretcher. Marco was riding to the hospital in the ambulance with him. Derek spotted Nikki down at the front of the church and went to her. He took his coat off and wrapped it around her. He pulled her in close and kissed her shoulder. “He’s talking.” He let out a small chuckle. “And he’s talking about Prada, so my guess is he’s going to be just fine.” He paused, his face pale. He shook his head, and in a stutter the words came out. “Oh-my-God. It could . . . it-could-have been you.” Tears filled his eyes. Nikki was not used to seeing Derek emotional, but the realization of what could have been, as well as what was, was tearing him apart. “My brother . . . and that could have been you, and it might not have been only a graze to the arm. Nikki . . .”

  “It wasn’t me, and I’m fine. It is Simon, though. We need to go to the hospital.”

  “I know.”

  Jonah had come back inside the church and was standing in the exact spot where Simon had gone down. He faced the rectory and looked up. “Whoever it was was no sharpshooter. From where I’m at, it looks to me to be a clean shot.”

  Derek stood next to Nikki, his arm around her. All of the guests were being ushered outside of the church by deputies and sectioned off into smaller groups where they were awaiting questioning by the police. Nikki was sure they were none too pleased at having to wait around for an interrogation. These were folks who, at this moment, expected to be at the Malveaux wedding reception, clinking their spoons against their wineglasses and encouraging the newly wed couple to kiss and express their love for one another.

  “Do you think that whoever did this was only trying to put a scare into my brother?”

  Jonah turned around and faced them.
“I don’t think the target was your brother.”

  Derek looked at Nikki. “You think . . .”

  Jonah nodded. “I found something up in the rectory.” Jonah took the handkerchief from his suit pocket and pulled something from another pocket. He shook it out. It was a wrinkled piece of paper. Newspaper. He showed it to them. It was their engagement photo that had run in the paper weeks before. And on the photo Nikki’s face was crossed out in red ink.

  “Oh my God. What? Why would someone one want to kill me?” she asked.

  Jonah raised his eyebrows. “You’re seriously asking that question? Let’s face it, Girl Friday. It’s not like you haven’t made a few enemies in your days here amongst the vines.”

  Derek pulled her in closer. “We should tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” Jonah asked.

  Nikki listened while Derek explained about the notes and photos.

  “I see.” He clucked his tongue. “I’m going to want those,” Jonah said.

  “I threw the first one in the garbage disposal,” Nikki replied. She’d meant to dig them out the other night after the dinner with Derek’s friends but had gotten distracted by the various personalities and what appeared to be some issues. She knew Derek had taken the trash out the next day because it had been trash day. Damn it. How had she overlooked that?