Motto for Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 6)

by Leslie Langtry

  Riley's actions were driving me nuts. He was playing games with me, and I didn't like it one bit.

  But did I not like it because he was irritating or because, as Kelly suggested, I still had feelings for him? I wracked my brain for hours before getting up and going into the dark garage to watch my neighbors.

  Philby joined me. Together we sat there, in the darkness, watching the Fontanas move around behind the blinds. I didn't even care what they were doing. I was more concerned about my own problems.

  At six in the morning I took a long shower, downed half a box of Lucky Charms, and sat staring at the wall until it was time to go.

  Kelly met me at the bridal shop—A Storybook Ending—at nine in the morning.

  "You look terrible," my friend said.

  I had to admit, she was right. The purplish bags under my eyes gave me a kind of psycho look.

  "I was up all night," was all I said.

  "Hi!" A young woman greeted us, wearing a lavender suit. "I'm Betsy…oh my God!" Her eyes grew wide and she froze in place as she stared at me. "Are you okay?" She really did look concerned. I gave her points for that.

  "Insomnia," Kelly whispered while twirling her finger around the right side of her head as if to add and she's crazy too.

  I glared at her. "I'm fine. Let's look at dresses."

  Betsy was still staring at my face. "Oh. Um. Right away. Let me guess. You're about a size four?" She ran off, disappearing into the back room.

  "Is she supposed to do that?" I pointed in the direction she'd vanished.

  "Sit down," Kelly insisted.

  She pulled a makeup kit from her purse and started wiping stuff on me. I'm not much for makeup, but I didn't want a lecture either, so I let her torture me. Most of the time I wear mascara and eyeliner, because I think it makes me look more awake. Something that was failing me at this moment.

  Then she ran her fingers through my hair, and I flinched.

  "Hey! That hurts."

  Kelly frowned. "We're going to have to do something about your hair."

  "What's wrong with my hair?" I patted it to make sure it was still there.

  My short, curly dishwater blonde hair was unruly on the best of days. I kept it short so I wouldn't have to do much with it.

  "We could color it…" Kelly nodded. "You used to be a brunette, before you changed to blonde when you moved back here. Maybe we could go with a dark chestnut?"

  I scrambled to recall the color of a chestnut. In fact, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen one.

  "My stars!" Betsy joined us with a rolling rack full of dresses. "You look so much better!"

  I walked over to a mirror. Wow. Kelly had made the bags disappear and evened out my skin tone. She'd also done my brows and lips. Who was this woman in the mirror? How could I get Kelly to come over every morning and do whatever it was?

  "We're going to color her hair too," Kelly said. "Dark chestnut."

  Betsy agreed. "Good idea. That will look more natural than what she currently has."

  I waved my arms. "Hello! I'm right here!" I was not coloring my hair. This was the color I picked when I went from Finn Czrygy to Merry Wrath. I had to draw the line somewhere.

  Betsy ignored my outburst. "Now take a look at some of these dresses, and let me know if there's anything you like."

  Kelly moved through the rack quickly, arranging the dresses in some sort of order. I let her because she knew what I wanted. When she finished, she held up a dress in a long plastic bag and dragged me off to the dressing room.

  A few minutes later I shouted, "You're going to have to come in here and help me. This is impossible!"

  Kelly slid through the curtain and began doing up buttons, hooks, and whatever else there was. The dress felt like it weighed forty pounds. The neckline was square, and I liked that. But I didn't like the millions of tiny pearls stitched into the dress.

  "The skirt is too bushy," I mumbled.

  "Full," Kelly corrected. "The skirt is too full. Do you like the bodice?"

  I nodded. "I do. But this skirt is way too much. How would I sit down? And I'll be tired after one hour with all this extra weight." I wanted to say I couldn't run in it but decided against that.

  "You won't even notice the weight on your wedding day. Trust me. Let's go look in the three-way mirror."

  I stomped over to a pedestal, holding what seemed like miles of satin in my arms. I let the dress fall and turned around. Whoa. I liked it. Did I really look like that? That wasn't me.

  "In some places," Betsy was telling us, "someone stands in for the bride for to try on the dress so she can see it clearly."

  I turned to my best friend with a hopeful look on my face.

  "No," was all Kelly had to say.

  It took two hours to try on six dresses. Seriously, how did women do this? You couldn't even get dressed or undressed by yourself. Why couldn't I just wear something simple, like a short, regular dress?

  And when did I get so picky? I liked the neckline on one dress, the so-called bodice on another, the sleeves on a different dress, and none of the skirts.

  "This is hard," I grumbled as I dragged fifty pounds of dress back to the dressing room. One more dress to try on and I was done.

  "Quit complaining," Kelly said. "If you had your way, you'd wear an oversize bathrobe and slippers."

  I brightened. "That's a great idea!"

  "Not if Rex is in tails," Kelly countered. "As your matron of honor, it's my duty to make sure you look okay."

  "Matron? Like a prison matron?"

  Kelly sighed. "Sometimes that's exactly what it feels like."

  I barely looked at the dress as I slipped it off the hanger and over my head. I was just counting down the seconds when I could be free from this…whatever it was.

  "That's it! This is the one!" Kelly smiled, dragging me out to the large mirrors.

  I stepped up onto the pedestal and stared. She was right. The dress was just like the one in the magazine. A simple satin dress with a portrait color (that's what Betsy said it was), three-quarter-length sleeves, and a no-fuss skirt that wasn't puffed out with itchy crinolines.

  "Yes. This is the one." I turned around, to the side, and back again.

  Kelly took a picture. "For Judith."

  Smart. Mom would love to see it. I probably should have had her come out for this. Would she be upset I hadn't included her?

  "An excellent choice!" Betsy said as she whipped out a tape measure. "It almost fits you perfectly."

  If it fit so perfectly, why was she measuring everything?

  "So you can have a tailored dress on your wedding day," Kelly answered the question I hadn't asked. It was kind of spooky.

  It took another hour just to get the measurements down. We walked over to the register, and she handed me the price tag.

  "Wait! What?" I balked. "Three thousand dollars? Does it come with a limousine and open bar?"

  "Ooooh! I forgot to order the limo!" Kelly smacked her forehead.

  I continued to protest. "The dress! It's too expensive."

  Kelly put her hands on her hips. "That's how much wedding dresses cost these days. Stop being such a big baby."

  I reluctantly handed over my credit card and watched very carefully to make sure she didn't add any more zeros. Money wasn't really a problem. The principal of wearing a garment that expensive only once was.

  Betsy handed the card back. "I'll call you in a month when it comes in, and we'll have a fitting. When's the wedding?"

  "December fifteenth," Kelly replied.

  "It's so far away…" I said. Maybe I didn't have to make this decision just yet.

  "Oh, no, it isn't!" Betsy grinned. "If we need another fitting, this will give us some wiggle room."

  Kelly gave the woman her number. Once we were outside, she explained she didn't have a lot of faith in me to come back.

  I stopped and turned toward her. "I paid three grand for that dress. Why wouldn't I come back?"

  "Let's get some lunch,"
Kelly said. "You'll feel better."

  We were just walking into the Chinese restaurant on Main when Rex passed in his car. He pulled over, and we invited him to join us.

  "Really?" he said as we were seated. "You bought the dress?" I was a little insulted that his voice had such a ring of shock to it.

  Kelly nodded. "And it's perfect. Have you ordered your tux?"

  "With top hat and tails?" I added.

  He rolled his eyes. "So, you've been to see my sisters again?"

  "They gave me this lovely stuffed blue jay to wear as a brooch." I left out the part where I'd destroyed the brooch by escaping a fire. "Randi said she was going to make one for your top hat."

  Rex buried his face in his hands. "I was afraid of this. I suppose they told you about the various traditions, too?"

  The waitress interrupted, so we ordered.

  After she'd gone, I leaned forward. "Yeah, we're not doing any of those. Especially not the haggis thing."

  "Come on," Kelly protested. "These are all Ferguson family traditions. You have to do them."

  "Why don't we come up with our own?" I asked. "Maybe something with the cats?"

  "How about," Rex interrupted, "we just keep things simple."

  "If you have all of these traditions," Kelly said, "you should try to adopt one or two. In my family every bride is given a triple strand of pearls. That's not so bad."

  "In my family," Rex said slowly, "the bride and groom have a sword fight."

  "I am not having a swordfight in a three-thousand-dollar dress!" I shouted a little too loudly.

  Diners on either side of us gave us the strangest looks.

  "I'm very good at sword fighting," I said loudly.

  Rex shook his head, and I wondered if he was up to the challenge. Would it be sabers or foils? How did you get blood out of satin?

  I changed the subject. "What's up with all these fires lately?"

  Rex relaxed. This was familiar territory. This was where he told me to stay out of it and I ignored him.

  "You'll see it on the news tonight anyway. There have been three fires. Two non-residential, one residential."

  "Really?" I lied. "Where was the residential one? The fire trucks sounded close yesterday."

  Kelly kicked me under the table.

  "It was just a couple of blocks away from us," Rex said. "The fire marshal thinks the fires at the arena last month and the ice cream shop the other day are related, but not the house fire."

  I leaned forward. "What do you think?" Getting away with seeming surprised was making me bolder.

  Rex took a long drink of his iced tea. "Personally? I think that…"

  The waitress dropped off our stir-fry and walked away. I tackled the crab rangoons like it was the first time I'd eaten food.

  To my complete surprise, Rex leaned forward. "I think they are all related. I don't know why, and I can't prove it. But something's up. A couple of my men think they've seen Feds around town." He leaned back again and gave me a look. "You haven't heard from Riley, have you?"

  Suddenly, I wasn't hungry anymore. This was the part where I either lied to my future husband or told him the truth. Frankly, I didn't want to do either. Fortunately, my mouth was full of fried cream cheese and sweet and sour sauce.

  Kelly jumped in. "It's arson?" She put her hand to her chest. "That's terrifying. Makes me want to check the batteries on the smoke alarms when I get home. Especially if the arsonist has moved to houses now."

  Rex patted her arm. "I don't think you need to worry about that. In fact, I was concerned when the TV stations started calling this morning. I don't want to start a panic. That's the last thing we need."

  We ate in silence for a moment.

  I swallowed. "There's a quote by Ian Fleming that's appropriate. Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action. That kind of fits here, I think."

  Rex's eyebrows went up. "You and I agree with the creator of James Bond. The fires are happening too close together. But I can see where it doesn't make sense."

  "Who lived at the house that burned down?" I asked with the most innocent expression I could manage.

  My fiancé sighed and pushed his Mongolian beef away. "That young woman who's gone missing. The one who worked for our veterinarian."

  I was pretty sure I looked stunned. It was hard to tell without a mirror, and I feared that holding one up to check might be a giveaway.

  "Kate?" I asked.

  Rex nodded. "Kate Becks. Ever heard of her?"

  Kelly and I looked at each other before shaking our heads.

  I snapped my fingers. "I know that name." I made a big show of trying to think. "Your sisters were talking about someone named Kate who hasn't picked up her order." I turned to Kelly, "It's a cat on a Roomba."

  Kelly sighed. "I've always wanted a Roomba."

  "Did they?" Rex scowled. Maybe he didn't like the idea of his sisters being involved. Or maybe he was starting to suspect my involvement.

  My mind raced. "You should check with my therapist, Susan…and see if Kate Becks is the client who blew her off."

  Rex's right eyebrow went up. "You seem to know a lot about this missing woman, considering you said you don't know her."

  I shrugged. "It's just coincidence that in the same twenty-four hours, my vet and your sisters all mentioned the same name."

  Rex nodded. "Like you said. Three times is an enemy action." He got up. "I'll take care of the bill. I have to get back to work." He kissed me on the forehead. "And I'll talk to you later."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kelly and I split up. We had a couple of hours before the Scout meeting started. I had to get some poster board and other supplies. Kelly had to pick up some books on France from the library.

  As I ran my errands, I couldn't help but gloat a little. Rex now knew that Kate was the missing woman. I just needed to give him a little push so he'd make the connection between her and the Fontanas.

  And I knew just how to do it.

  "Hey neighbor!" I waved at Mark Fontana as I pulled a suitcase on wheels behind me. I always walked to the meetings, and I didn't have a wagon. Maybe I should get one?

  Mark smiled tightly. "Merry! What's up?"

  "I was thinking about what you said the other day. About dinner. How about it? You and Pam can meet Rex and me somewhere. Name the time and place!" A double date would lower their guard, and I could ask seemingly innocent questions, like Have you ever been to Russia or Did you kidnap and kill Kate Becks?

  "Okay." He looked around as if concerned that we were on camera. "How about tomorrow night at The American?"

  Oh brother. This guy was going over the top trying to prove he was who he wasn't. American food, apple pie, Yankee pot roast—it was embarrassing.

  "Sounds great. Say seven?" I asked.

  He nodded, and I continued on my way, texting the details to Rex as I walked. I wasn't good at that. A couple of times, I fell off the sidewalk. But it was all set. Just a cozy dinner between three spies and a cop. Totally normal.

  "Girls!" I called out as I entered the classroom. "Ready to get some work done?"

  A loud cheer went up as I handed out poster board and markers. Kelly distributed the books on France.

  "We need to put together some ideas for a display," Kelly said. She pointed at a table full of Kaitlyns. "You ladies have to come up with food ideas. Something simple we can serve—nothing too complicated."

  The table with Betty, Lauren, Ava, and Inez volunteered to look for a French game or folk dance they could teach the kids at Thinking Day. Caterina, the two Hannahs, and Emily decided they would find a craft project for the make-it take-it table.

  Kelly and I circulated.

  "Mrs. Wrath?" one of the Kaitlyns asked. "Can we make crepes?"

  I shook my head. "I don't think we can take a griddle in there. Keep looking."

  Great. Now I wanted crepes. Too bad the nearest French restaurant was in Omaha. That made me think of Riley. I shoved those th
oughts from my head.

  "We could do foie gras. Or crème brûlée," one of the girls added. The others seemed to agree. I was impressed. These girls had done their research.

  "Like I said, we can't take an oven in, and we can't serve anything that needs a bowl or plate. It has to be finger food."

  A collective gasp filled the air. "Fingers as food?" one of the girls cried out. "Are the French monsters?"

  "No, finger food means…" But I was outmatched.

  Betty slammed her fist on the table. "I knew it! I knew it!"

  "Finger food means food you can eat with your fingers," I said.

  "Why can't we just do french fries?" another Kaitlyn asked.

  "With a nice burgundy," added another.

  A third Kaitlyn shook her head. "There's no meat, so no red wine. I think a chardonnay might work though."

  The others nodded as if this was perfectly normal, and I didn't say anything because the problem basically solved itself. They wouldn't be able to bring wine into the Expo Center anyway. And if somehow they did, I'd confiscate it, which meant free wine for me.

  "I think," Betty was saying, "that we should teach people the national anthem of France…'Le Marseillaise.'"

  Uh-oh.

  "What's it about?" Lauren asked.

  "Girls," I interrupted, "maybe you should do 'Frère Jacque'?"

  Inez was on her phone with Ava looking over her shoulder. "Here it is! Let's see… Ooooh! Listen to this! The soldiers are coming into our arms to slit the throats of our sons and women! Let the impure blood soak into our fields!"

  Betty grumped, "Pretty threatening from a bunch of flag droppers."

  "Okay!" I held up my hands. "You are not doing 'Le Marseillaise.' Find something else."

  "But…" Ava complained.

  I stood firm on this. "Nope! Not gonna happen."

  Inez continued on as if she never heard me. "There's something about tigers tearing at women's boobies!"

  This aroused the interest of the girls at the other tables.

  "Nope," I said again. "Not doing that. Find something nice and sweet." I pointed at Betty and motioned for her to come to me.

  "You can't blame me," Betty said quickly. "I didn't write the French national anthem. Although if I did, I'd probably come up with something like that."