She gave a quick shimmy.
“Who was it about, then?” I asked.
“It was about Hazel,” she replied. “Hollis has a phone recording of Hazel offering the photographer money to make her a more prominent feature on the tabloid site.”
“She hired someone to stalk herself?” Caroline asked. “That’s nuts.”
“On top of that,” Beverlee said, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper, “she made threats against Lily on the recording. Something about pulling her hair out by the roots and slapping her bald head on a stake Lord of the Flies-style before the premiere.”
Lily gasped, and her hand flew to her hair. “She said that? About me? But I thought we were becoming friends.”
I handed her a lipstick for a quick touch up. “Girls like Hazel are all bluster. I don’t think she would actually do it. Would she?”
Before Lily could respond, Mimi appeared at the door and tapped her watch.
“Showtime,” I said, then leaned in toward Lily. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
When Dan rounded the corner and reached out his hand, she released a deep breath and took a hesitant step toward him. “I don’t know. Am I?”
Dan took her hand in his, then pulled it in to rest on his chest. “Lily, I’m truly sorry for letting you go. I made a choice based on fear, rather than love.”
A cameraman scrambled to get in position, leaning in close to the pair.
Lily bowed her head. “But your family…”
“I’d like for you to be my family, if you’ll have me,” he replied. “And if my father doesn’t approve, he can kick me out of the business. I might end up poor, but at least I’ll be with you.”
He engulfed her in a hug, then dropped to the floor at her feet. “Lily Page, will you marry me?”
She eagerly agreed, and Beverlee let out a loud whoop. She dabbed a tissue to her eyes. “I love a happy ending.”
Caroline wrapped her arm around her sister’s waist. “You see? I told you it would work out for you. It always does.”
She straightened the straps of Lily’s dress. “Let’s go get you married.”
“Okay, then.” I pointed toward the door. “I believe there’s a giant swing with your name on it.”
The set designers had built a catwalk into the overhead system of scaffolding so they could lower Lily to the stage with dramatic flair. To reach the top, she had to climb a rickety metal ladder that conjured up memories of the rusty tools in my great-grandpa’s shed.
I examined the ladder, then glanced over at Lily. “Are they serious? It wasn’t in the budget to build you steps?”
Lily bent down to pick up the ends of her long dress. “I told them it was fine. I’ve been climbing trees since I was knee high to a fire ant. But I will need somebody to help me keep from stepping on this on the way up,” she said with a grin.
“Don’t you have a sister for something like that?” I glanced over at Caroline, who was studying her fingernails.
“Not likely,” Caroline said. “I’ve never been the tree-climbing type. And besides, I need to be on stage to ooh and ahh over your grand entrance with the rest of the guests.”
Lily hiked her skirt even higher, then stepped a bare foot on the bottom rung. “Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said with a barely concealed eye roll.
She made the ascent slowly, and I followed, her behind and a pillowy mass of gown obstructing my view. I was practically inside her wedding dress, a position many people would have liked to be in, but I couldn’t wait to escape.
“Almost there,” she said from above me.
When she neared the top, a member of the production crew strapped her into the waist harness hand-sewn into the bodice of her dress and got her settled on the wide wooden swing.
I trailed her, clinging to the rail as I peered twenty feet down at the stage while my breakfast pitched back and forth in my stomach.
“Are we all set up there?” the director called from his position next to the stage.
The crew member gave a nod as he slowly began releasing the swing.
From below, Javier spoke the familiar words of the ceremony. “Friends and family, we are gathered here together to celebrate the marriage of Daniel Foster Nichols to Liliana Grace Page. Please rise for the presentation of the bride.”
“That’s your cue,” I whispered to Lily as guests rose to their feet. “Good luck.”
She gave me a shy smile and wrapped her fingers around the ropes on both sides of the swing. Behind the scenes, a muscle-bound man in a black t-shirt and jeans used an intricate pulley system to lower her to the stage.
The Wedding March played through the speakers, and every set of eyes in the room focused on Lily as she descended from the clouds.
Even Dan, who had been shifting back and forth and eying the exit sign earlier, was transfixed. When he saw Lily, he straightened his tie.
“That’s right, buddy,” I whispered. “Don’t mess this up.”
Javier approached the center of the stage. “True love isn’t easy to find. And it is with great joy that we join together today to celebrate—”
A chair scraped loudly across the floor. “True love?” a loud voice boomed. “What do you know about true love?”
I craned my head to see Odell Page, Lily’s father, barreling toward the stage. His long black overcoat flapped behind him, and in his right hand, he was waving around a shotgun.
The swing came to a sudden stop five feet above the ground, the stagehand gripping the rope between his leather-gloved hands. Lily swayed back and forth until Dan circled his hand around her ankle to slow the movement.
“This isn’t love.” Odell halted in front of Dan. He lifted the gun as if he were waving a flag. “You lie like a dog licking Thanksgiving dinner off my mama’s linoleum floor. And I will kindly implore you to take your hands off my daughter.”
“Daddy,” Lily cried, her fingers white from her tight hold on the ropes. “Stop.”
“I will do no such thing, young lady. You need to get down from there right now.”
Dan stepped forward, reaching out to the man who was about to become his father-in-law. “Sir, if we could talk about this…”
Odell’s face whipped around toward Dan, his eyes flaming. He rested the butt end of the shotgun on the floor but kept his hand on the barrel. “Does this seem like a good time to talk, son?” With each syllable, he raised and lowered the gun with a thunk on the wood.
Guests rushed toward the exits as the security team approached the set.
Mimi held her hand up to stop their progression, then motioned for the cameras to keep rolling.
I slid along the catwalk and started to descend toward the stage.
Lily, still suspended over the scene, screamed to get her father’s attention. “Daddy, no! Let me get down, and we’ll figure it out.”
Odell turned back to Lily. He lifted the arm holding the shotgun into the air. “You can’t possibly tell me you want to marry this fool, Princess. I won’t allow it.”
Lily leaned forward on the swing, meeting her father’s eyes. “I want what you and Mama had,” she replied with a delicate sniff. “And yes. I want to marry him.”
Just then, Mimi gave a quick nod to the security guard, who lunged in and wrapped his arms around Odell. Odell twisted to evade him, his finger grazing the shotgun’s trigger.
A deafening crack reverberated through the room. Broken glass rained to the floor at the back of the stage where Odell’s bird shot took out yet another chandelier.
Screams filled the air and people dove for cover, including the stagehand holding the loose end of the rope. The wood swing crashed to the ground with a bang.
Lily landed in a heap of white tulle next to her father, her crown of yellow flowers resting crookedly across her forehead.
I rushed to help Lily to her feet as she watched the second person of the day be carted off by the police.
While the crew cleaned
up the broken glass, we converted the wardrobe room into an impromptu bridal suite.
Maggie sat in the makeup chair next to me, her eyes wide. “I have seen a lot of things at weddings. But this one tops them all.”
I tried to hold back an adrenaline-fueled laugh. “I almost wet myself when that chandelier fell. I think I’m going to steer clear of elevated light fixtures for a while.”
Lily and Caroline huddled together on the sofa. “Do you think he’ll go to jail?” Lily asked, her voice trembling.
“He was brandishing a weapon,” Beverlee said. “In the middle of a crowd of people.”
Maggie shrugged. “I’ve seen fathers do crazier things during their daughters’ weddings. There’s so much tension—they’re giving their little girls away to other men. It can all be very emotional. I once had a father hire out an exorcist to disrupt the ceremony.”
“If you need an exorcist, you’ve got bigger problems than your daughter getting married.” Beverlee rifled through the drawers in the makeup station, whooping in triumph when she found a snack-sized bag of animal crackers. She offered one to Lily. “Mimi wouldn’t dare say anything to you about crumbs in your teeth now.”
My ribs felt as if they had been hollowed out with a rusty pocketknife, but I couldn’t imagine eating. I leaned back and squeezed my eyes closed until stars exploded behind my lids.
“Do you think he’s behind the… other issues?” Lily asked, her voice tentative.
“Daddy?” Caroline asked with a snort. “Not likely. He’s a big teddy bear, and as mad as he was, he’d do anything in the world for you. Besides, Hazel all but confessed to being in over her head on her way out of here earlier.”
“It doesn’t sit right with me, though,” I said. “How did Hazel know the show wouldn’t be canceled after Beau died? And what did she have against Rocco? He made her skin as smooth as porcelain.”
I studied the women’s somber faces, noting that nobody had any answers. But I had to find some way to rescue the wedding, so I forced my best attempt at enthusiasm. “Enough about that. Today’s supposed to be a day of celebration, which begs the question: are you still going through with it?”
Lily blinked in surprise. “Going through with what? The wedding?”
Almost afraid to hear the answer, I gave her a hesitant nod.
“Well, yes, I guess. Mimi came by here earlier and reminded me I signed a contract.”
Beverlee laughed. “I would imagine you could get out of that. Your life was in danger. Killing both of their stars wouldn’t be good publicity.”
Lily smoothed a shaking palm down the front of her dress. “I’m already dressed, and I have a groom,” she replied, reaching down to squeeze her sister’s hand. “I want to get married today.”
We sat in awkward silence, wondering how much punishment one woman was willing to endure for a trip down the aisle, until Beverlee jumped up and hooted. “This calls for a toast to the beautiful and resilient bride.”
I scanned the room, but the only thing available for a toast was a can of diet soda that had been sitting open on the makeup counter since before Rocco died.
“I think I saw some champagne on the props table,” Caroline suggested.
Beverlee clapped. “Wonderful. Why don’t you and Glory grab it, and I’ll get Lily freshened up for the ceremony?” She started pawing through the drawers.
Caroline hopped up and headed toward the exit, but I stopped with my hand on the doorframe. “You know, Lily, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re kind and generous, and you and Dan deserve every happiness.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know,” Beverlee said with a wink.
She topped off Lily’s mascara, ran a fluffy powder brush over her cheeks, and straightened the floral crown. “You really are a stunning bride,” Beverlee said. “And I’ve had a lot of weddings. I should know.”
Just then, Mimi brushed past me through the door. She tapped her finger on her clipboard. “Grab the champagne, then. We’ve got to get back to filming. Union rules say we need to have the camera guys out of here in an hour or we owe them overtime.”
Lily took a deep breath and stood from the sofa. “I’m ready.” She straightened her shoulders and followed Mimi out the door.
22
The props room was on the opposite side of the warehouse from the ceremony set, and it housed everything from plush sofas to high-dollar fashion accessories. If it could transform an empty cinder block cell into a restaurant or make a stretch of sand appear to be an exclusive island paradise, Romance Revival designers stashed it there.
I stepped around a six-foot-tall inflatable beer bottle poking out from the seat of an antique oak church pew and found Caroline filling red plastic cups with expensive champagne.
“We should be using fancy glass flutes,” she said, tapping the plastic with her finger. “But these were all I could find on short notice.”
I grinned and reached for a cup from the tray. “Looks good to me. Doesn’t matter what the bubbles come in as long as they make their way into my belly.”
When I raised it toward my lips, Caroline jerked the cup away from me, sloshing a couple dollars’ worth of champagne on the tile floor at my feet.
“No,” she said sharply. “You can’t drink it yet.”
“Why? They won’t mind if we steal a sip before the ceremony,” I said. “And besides, this might be our only chance to toast this crazy day. Mimi’s ready to get started.”
Caroline grabbed a thick stack of paper towels from the wall dispenser and dropped them on the ground in front of us. She squatted and mopped up the spilled liquid with short, violent strokes. “I said you can’t drink it. It’s bad luck.”
I didn’t think drinking champagne before a ceremony was bad luck. Usually, it made the day flow more smoothly. A slightly boozy bride didn’t fret over the details. But I held out my palm, surrendering. Whatever was bugging Caroline wouldn’t be fixed by an argument. “It’s not a problem. We’ll save it for later.”
She scrubbed the floor until she left a noticeably clean spot in the linoleum, then tucked the used paper towels in her backpack and marched toward the sink to scrub her hands.
I turned to the exit, but as my gaze swept over the drink tray, something caught my eye. The plastic cup I’d relinquished sat away from the others. On its side, almost so small I couldn’t see it, a small black dot had been drawn on the plastic.
An uncontrollable shiver rippled through me. It wasn’t that Caroline didn’t want me to drink a cup of champagne. She just didn’t want me to drink that particular cup of champagne.
I remembered the night of the party when Caroline had collapsed. The videos hadn’t shown an ill-intentioned stranger near the drinks because there hadn’t really been anyone else around.
Only Caroline had free access to her glass.
Caroline. The same woman who noted that she was less than two hours away from Flat Falls the day of the murder on an evening when nobody would have noticed her late return.
The woman who always trailed behind her beautiful younger sister, watching as Lily soaked in her father’s attention and caused a media frenzy.
I sucked in a ragged breath. Caroline hadn’t been the victim of a crime—she had put the drugs in her own drink.
I pivoted around slowly. “It was you.”
With a burst of nervous laughter, she fumbled under her skirt and unsheathed a knife from a holster strapped to her thigh. “Daddy was right. A lady should never go out unprepared. You never know when you’ll need to cut someone.”
She motioned to the other side of the room with a sharp nod.
I tried to rush past her, but her hand shot out, the knife slicing deeply through my upper arm. A hot flash of pain dropped me to my knees. Blood splashed across the floor, and I sucked in a low hiss as the walls began to pirouette in my peripheral vision.
I glanced up when a low creak sounded in the doorway, and Jeff stepped in, his hoodie now replaced wit
h a crisp button-up and a thin blue tie.
“Oh, thank goodness.” I tried to clear my head with a quick shake, but it left me breathless, and the walls were still spinning. “You’ve got to help me.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he closed the door behind him. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked, the lock engaging with a deafening snap.
Caroline crossed the room to his side, and he wound his hands through her hair, reeling her in for a kiss.
“Wait,” I said, the rasp of my voice unfamiliar. “You two know each other?”
Caroline smiled. “We were high school sweethearts.”
“But—”
“We even went to the prom together.” She dipped her lashes and offered him a demure giggle.
I pointed toward Jeff, forcing myself not to look at my dripping arm. “This is the dorky prom date? The glitter truck guy?” I asked with an ill-timed chuckle.
Caroline charged forward, her palm cracking against my cheek. “Don’t you dare speak about him that way.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but terror kept the words from coming out.
“Jeff knows what it feels like to be the butt of everyone’s jokes,” she went on. “But who’s laughing now?”
I whipped my head toward Jeff. “You were humiliated in high school, so you run a gossip website now to return the favor?”
“It’s one of the perks of the job,” he admitted, a slow smile crossing his face.
“You did all this to humiliate Lily in retribution for embarrassing you in high school?”
He choked out a derisive chuckle as he zipped his camera bag closed, then he lifted his hands up. “That was all Caroline. I’m just along for moral support. And to upload the stories she feeds me.”
“Why?” I asked Caroline, blinking several times to regain my focus.
“You don’t have a sister, do you?”
I shook my head, glancing around the room for a makeshift weapon. Most of the heavy props, like the thick iron candelabras Maggie and I had argued over including on the cake table, had been moved to the set. Only bolts of fabric and random pieces of farmhouse decor remained. I couldn’t figure out how to save myself with a two-foot section of shiplap, no matter how hard I tried.
Tying the Knot (A Wedding Crashers Mystery Book 2) Page 19