MURDER at the ALTAR (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 3)

by Jeanine Spooner

  “I’ve never been married,” Kitty mused, hoping to warm Roberta up. The woman seemed cold as a salt-water salmon. “But I hope to one day. I really like Gretchen’s non-denominational theme. That’s how I’d do it. I’m not religious, though I do love the tradition of a church. The architecture alone adds so much atmosphere.”

  “Would you please stop talking?”

  Kitty blinked.

  “How rude of me,” Kitty laughed at herself, but had no intention of relenting. “Tell me, what was your marriage to Cliff like?”

  Roberta’s eyes glazed over. She shrugged then took another sip of her wine.

  “You both seem so in love,” Kitty pressed, knowing full well that Cliff and Roberta were the least affectionate couple she’d ever encountered.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, dryly, then snorted in delayed reaction to Kitty’s wildly mistaken observation. “We were never in love.”

  “You weren’t?”

  “Are you dense?”

  Kitty could see that Roberta was in a charming mood.

  “Why did you get married?” she pried.

  “We knew it would be mutually beneficial. You know, in terms of our careers.” Roberta’s eyes shifted, boasting, and Kitty could tell the woman would be proud to divulge.

  “How fascinating,” Kitty commented, breathy and intrigued and a little confused. “I don’t believe I’ve ever asked what you both do for a living.”

  “We run a website,” she said, vaguely.

  “Oh?”

  Kitty sensed the woman was giving her the stink eye, as she assessed Kitty’s potential for discretion. Then Roberta leaned close.

  “An escort service,” she confided. “Hot and Bothered,” she announced.

  It was a strange, remarkably creepy sounding company name.

  “It’s very popular,” Roberta went on. “We provide extremely good looking women and men to our clients.”

  “Interesting...” Kitty was sure to snap a smile on her face so as not to seem horrified.

  “In fact, the Cartwright Casino is one of our biggest clients.”

  “Really?” Kitty was genuinely hooked.

  “Oh yes. Kip likes to butter up the high rollers and offer them condolences when they lose big.”

  Marcus’ double life came to mind. He was a good-looking guy, young, stylish, and well mannered. Kitty wondered about the money he owed Roberta. Could it have been some kind of advance towards future shifts with Hot and Bothered?

  “You must have so many stories,” Kitty mused, angling toward the hard questions.

  “Ha! That could be true.”

  “So what did you and Cliff see in each other that made it clear this business venture would be worth entering into holy matrimony?”

  “Our inclinations,” Roberta said with a wink that made Kitty’s blood run cold. “Though I must say Cliff’s... appetite had a way of getting out of hand.”

  Suddenly a strong hand was grasping her upper arm.

  “Doll,” Sterling smiled through clenched teeth. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Excuse me,” Kitty told Roberta, as Sterling dragged her away.

  When they reached the French doors, Kitty jerked her arm free.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “You really embarrassed me back there!”

  “What part of never leave my sight didn’t you understand?” he challenged.

  “Do you get that these people open up to me in ways they never would with you?”

  “Do you get that you’re typically ten steps behind me and constantly putting yourself in danger?”

  “How is Roberta dangerous?” she asked, nose in the air, and arms folded across her chest. She was forming an idea as to how the bride’s mother might be volatile—escort service very well could be a euphemism for prostitute ring and keeping a business like that under wraps could involve dark deeds, but Sterling didn’t know she knew any of that if he even knew about Hot and Bothered at all.

  “Why can’t you trust me?” he demanded.

  Kitty wasn’t sure if they were still talking about her sidling up to Roberta.

  “Why can’t you trust me?” she countered. “I know how to take care of myself.”

  Sterling released her arm, but took her by the hand and sighed.

  “When will this night be over?”

  “Why are you holding my hand?”

  “So you don’t run off again,” he snapped.

  She sulked at that, but squeezed him back, as the dinner got underway.

  They stood together holding hands, not eating, not moving, and not talking for the duration of all five courses. The string quartet played. The maid of honor gave her toast and then the best man took the microphone. Toward the end of the night, Gretchen and David stood at the French doors and thanked each guest for coming as they filtered out, making their way through the mansion to their parked cars out front.

  It wasn’t until the service staff began cleaning up that Kitty mentioned they could leave.

  “Finally,” he groaned, leading her through the mansion that was now empty aside from a few straggling guests and the cleaning staff.

  “Your turn on the couch,” he said, starting the engine and flipping on the Jeep’s headlights.

  “Aren’t you the comedian,” she said, dryly.

  “Laugh all you want,” he warned. “I’m sleeping in a bed tonight.”

  She huffed then ordered, “I need to see Trudy.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s tradition.”

  When she didn’t explain her statement Sterling snorted.

  “I see Trudy the night before every wedding so that’s where we’re going. End of discussion.”

  “Ah, Doll, have you noticed someone always gets killed at your weddings? Might be time to break tradition.”

  “How dare you!”

  He sighed, took her hand even though she refused to reciprocate, and asked, “What’s the address?”

  After she told him, she chided, “You’re wearing a suit tomorrow if I have to wrestle it on you myself.”

  He smiled, but Kitty knew it was for the wrong reason.

  “Hello, Ronald,” she scoffed with dry contempt.

  Sterling stood beside her and Ronald seemed preoccupied because of it. His brows rose, as he grinned at the detective he’d heard so much about, but had never met. “Is Trudy home?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, come in,” Ronald said, happily. “You must be Slaughter!”

  “You can call him Sterling,” Kitty offered. She barreled through to the living room then plopped on the couch. “Don’t make me ask, Ronald!”

  Sterling stared at her, appalled by this new side of her.

  “What? It’s tradition!”

  Trudy spilled in from the bathroom and Kitty felt immediately calm at the sight of her beehive.

  “Well, well, well,” she said. “It’s the night before the wedding already?” Trudy joined Ronald in the kitchen and grabbed four long-stemmed wine glasses so that her boyfriend would only have to deal with uncorking the bottle. “How’ve you been, Sterling?”

  He shrugged and told her fine, while looking around for an appropriate place to sit. Kitty was hogging the couch, arms and legs splayed like a starfish dying on a beach at low tide.

  Trudy returned with Ronald at her heels and together they poured four glasses.

  “Team work makes the dream work,” said Ronald, shooting Trudy a little smirk that horrified Kitty.

  They cozied up together in the armchair. Trudy on Ronald’s lap with his arms around her as she doled out the filled glasses.

  Kitty looked on in grim despair as her best friend gave Ronald a long, sloppy smooch. Then she felt eyes on her. Sterling was staring down at her with growing interest.

  “I hope you’re not offended,” Ronald said with a little chuckle. “We’re very affectionate.”

  Trudy giggled and added, “Not every couple can be so lucky.�
��

  Sterling furrowed his brow at that and immediately sat close to Kitty, who had to collect her splayed limbs to make room. Glaring at Ronald, Sterling wrapped his arm around Kitty and pulled her legs over his lap so that they were more or less mimicking Trudy and Ronald’s snuggling repose.

  That’s when Kitty realized a bizarre sort of silent competition had initiated. When Ronald gave Trudy a peck on the check, Sterling planted a firm one on Kitty’s mouth. When Ronald complimented Trudy’s beauty, Sterling voiced his admiration for Kitty’s face, voice, hair, legs, sense of style and overall ability to run her business. And when Ronald refreshed Trudy’s wine, Sterling stole the bottle and handed it to Kitty.

  “Sterling, I’m not going to drink from the bottle...” she whispered.

  “Only the best for my Babe!” he yelled at Ronald.

  “Just what in the hell is going on here?” Trudy asked, finally picking up on rising tension between men.

  That’s when it hit her.

  The connection.

  She didn’t know where it had come from or why the tense display between Sterling and Ronald had made her think of it, but Kitty was suddenly in the throes of a full-blown epiphany.

  “That’s it!” she exclaimed, garnishing everyone’s immediate attention. “CD!”

  Sterling cocked his head, looking up at her.

  “The initials on the key chain! MJ & CD! I know who CD is!”

  “Honey, what are you talking about?”

  “The killer!”

  “Slow down,” said Sterling, angling her so he could read her face better. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Downeys have a secret business, Roberta told me as much at the rehearsal dinner.” Excited, she turned to Trudy. “Roberta Downey is Gretchen’s mother. She runs an escort service!”

  “Okay,” said Sterling, inviting her to go on.

  “It’s called Hot and Bothered. Roberta alluded to the fact that she and her husband, Cliff, have a marriage of convenience, for the sake of their business. But it’s really for the sake of Cliff having an outlet...”

  Kitty let the suspense build until Trudy yelled, “Spit it out!”

  “CD! Cliff Downey!” Kitty looked from face to face to see who was getting it. “Cliff’s gay! He was having an affair with Marcus! Marcus got that money from the Cartwright Casino and put it toward his condo, and yet he owed Roberta money! At first I thought maybe she’d fronted him the cash, because he was one of the escorts. And,” she locked eyes with Sterling at this point, “I still think he was, but I bet you anything Cliff paid off the rest of the condo balance! Marcus felt guilty, perhaps because Cliff had used his and Roberta’s money, so he wanted to pay her back. I bet you anything that she hadn’t known about the affair! So when Marcus offered to pay her back, it suddenly clued her into everything! Roberta is the killer!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The mansion was a breathtaking sight to see the day of the Downey - Cartwright wedding. The ballroom was bright with daylight yet glowed thanks to the myriad candelabras that lined its perimeter, reflecting amber light in the crystal carved mirrors. Lilies and roses were in every corner, filling the space with the most heavenly fragrance, as the guests chatted, milling about and drinking champagne.

  Kitty angled Sterling to face her then adjusted his thin, black tie until it was a tight knot. He looked dashing in the dark suit she’d picked out for him, though he was disgruntled about having to wear it. In protest, he’d refused to comb his gray hair or button his jacket, claiming his gun wouldn’t rest comfortably in its holster unless he left it open. Kitty had picked her battles with him all night and all morning, so she let him have this one. Truth be told, she didn’t mind the sight of his strong chest and tight abs, which his white button down seemed to accentuate.

  Oh there had been many battles...

  The issue of who would sleep in her bed had been the biggest one. And when all was said and done, she honest to God hadn’t been sure who had won and who had lost, because they slept side by side, reaching out for one another only when the daze of drifting into sleep enveloped them.

  That morning, Sterling had confirmed Kitty’s theory about the condo. Cliff Downey had paid off the balance, according to the county clerk’s records. Kitty had tried not to act smug that she’d been right, but she’d been beaming all day because of it.

  “It’s tight enough,” he said, slapping her hands away from his tie. “Christ, are you trying to choke me?”

  “I just want you to look presentable.”

  “For when I arrest Roberta?”

  “Shhh! You’ll frighten the guests!”

  Kitty stepped back and eyed her work. He looked good. Better than good, he looked downright delicious. Too bad they were still in the throes of their tiff...

  “I want you to do this in such a way that it doesn’t ruin the wedding,” she whispered.

  His eyes glazed over and he sank under the weight of her impossible request. “You want me to arrest the bride’s mother in such a way that doesn’t ruin her daughter’s wedding?”

  “It sounds unlikely the way you put it, but you’ll think of something!”

  “Before or after they take their vows?” he asked, indulging her.

  “Oh, darn! Well, I want to say before, but that would certainly ruin everything...” she trailed off, contemplating the options and their possible consequences. “Do it after. No before. No after. Do it after. No! Do it before.”

  Sterling grabbed her face. “Stop talking.”

  Kitty had to squish the words through her fish-pucker. “You’re hurting my cheeks.”

  He let go.

  “I’m going to check on Gretchen,” she stated, adjusting her headset to be certain the earpiece was flush. “Don’t make a move until I get back.”

  “I don’t know about letting you go off alone—”

  “Roberta’s over there, see? Midway up the aisle. So long as she stays there I’ll be fine,” she argued.

  Sterling gazed at her as though he might kiss her, but there had been a wall between them ever since their argument at The Black Swan. So she padded off toward one of the sitting rooms she’d assigned the bride and bridesmaids without giving Sterling so much as a glance back.

  When she reached the sitting room, she tapped her knuckles thrice and called out, “It’s only Kitty! Coming in now!”

  To her surprise, the bridesmaids weren’t inside, only Gretchen and Cliff, whose drawn expression told her she’d interrupted a heated confrontation.

  “Just wanted to check on things,” she said, softly closing the door behind her. Kitty felt suddenly awkward to be in the presence of a man whose secrets she knew, but she did what she could to smile and stay neutral. “We have about five minutes before the ceremony.”

  Gretchen’s eyes were severe and locked intensely on her father.

  “Gretchen?” Kitty asked. The bride seemed to be launching into a highly emotional state and it was then that Kitty noticed a leather satchel on the floor between Cliff and Gretchen.

  Gretchen kicked it and it flew straight at Kitty, who caught it and discovered immediately that the satchel was empty.

  “And on my wedding day!” Gretchen accused Cliff, causing him to turn morose.

  As Kitty stared into the empty satchel she was struck by an unusual smell. Where she expected a leathery scent, a metallic one punched her in the face.

  “Cliff!” Kitty exclaimed, eyes widening and mouth gaping in shock and horror. “It wasn’t Roberta! It was you!”

  Cliff turned dark and he balled his hands into fists.

  “Did you really think you’d get that magnet out of the floor on Gretchen’s wedding day?”

  He said nothing.

  “Why did you do it?” she pressed.

  It was Gretchen who spoke up. “To keep the affair secret.”

  Just then Roberta barged into the room, Sterling hot on her heels.

  “Mother, how could you keep this from me!” Gretc
hen cried. “My best friend?! My own father?!”

  “I didn’t know, Sweetheart!”

  “But you knew about Dad’s lifestyle!”

  “We tried to keep it from you! You didn’t need to know!” Roberta pleaded.

  “Don’t say anything,” Cliff barked, silencing his wife, or trying to.

  “You killed him!” She yelled. “You killed that poor man to keep your secret!”

  “I had to!” Cliff burst out, forgetting himself, needing to explain and stay in Gretchen’s heart and not be hated. “I never meant to hurt you, Gretchen. I only wanted to prevent you from ever finding out.”

  Sterling was on Cliff in an instant, grabbing his arms behind his back.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he warned, as he dragged Cliff toward the door.

  Reading Gretchen’s anguish, Kitty blurted out, “Wait!”

  Sterling halted and met her gaze.

  “Take him in after the ceremony.”

  “He killed someone!” Sterling objected.

  “Let’s not ruin this day any more than it already is,” she suggested. “Let him stay. He can sit with us in the back. Then you can take him downtown.”

  Gretchen looked hopeful and Cliff’s eyes rounded in gratitude.

  “Please, Sterling.”

  Sterling sighed. “Try anything and I’ll shoot you,” he warned then hauled Cliff, though discreetly, back into the ballroom.

  Kitty sat next to Sterling, who’d handcuffed Cliff to the chair on the other side. They watched the ceremony unfold. Roberta walked Gretchen down the aisle. Christopher Marlowe did a decent job of officiating. David looked happy. Against all odds, love had prevailed.

  Sterling leaned in close to Kitty.

  “What I needed to tell you the other night at The Black Swan...” he began.

  Kitty locked eyes with him and said sternly, “I’m not letting you break up with me.”

  He cocked his head at that. “I wasn’t going to break up with you. Is that what you thought that was about?”

  She stared at him confused.

  “Is that why you wouldn’t let me speak? You thought I was going to dump you?”

  “Weren’t you?”

  Sterling smiled. “No.”

  She watched his eyes brighten with the glow of candlelight.