Wedding Cake Crumble

by Jenn McKinlay

“Because, darling, after my husband read about my torrid affair in an advance copy of your wicked little book, I couldn’t hide it anymore, now could I?”

  Elise glanced up at her with a look of shock. Her face, which just moments before had a healthy rose glow, drained of color, leaving her sickly looking.

  “But I never meant—”

  “Sure you did,” Shanna said. “Admit it. You wanted to ruin me so you weren’t alone in your misery. Well, you caused Carl to throw me out, so well done.”

  Seven

  If looks could kill, Elise would be bleeding out where she sat. The entire room went still, looking to see what happened next.

  “What’s the matter, darling?” Shanna asked. “You look positively ill.”

  “I just . . . I never . . . I’m so sorry,” Elise said.

  Mel got the feeling the words were not ones she used very often, as it appeared she had to choke them out.

  Shanna gave her a wicked smile. “Don’t be. All of his psychotic outrage at his impending humiliation caused Carl to stroke out before he changed his will and I inherited billions! You set me free, my dear, and I am ever grateful.”

  Elise’s eyes went wide and she clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful. I mean, um, I’m sorry for your loss?”

  “Don’t be. It was no loss. He was a bully who thought I was an accessory to be seen and never heard. I am not grieving, not even a little,” Shanna said. “I’m leaving next week for a six-month cruise around the world. You simply have to meet up with me when you finish this pesky book business.”

  “Spanish Riviera?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Elise signed the book and the women exchanged an air kiss. Shanna took her book and sauntered away, looking every bit the privileged billionaire that she was.

  Angie turned a bug-eyed look at Mel, who shrugged. This was not her world. Inheriting billions off the corpse of a dead husband who was apoplectic that he’d be publicly shamed? She would never be able to relate. She was kind of glad about that.

  “Hey!” Ray appeared beside Angie. He was frowning and he pulled them both away from the table by the elbow. “So, I was just outside talking to the driver.”

  “Why?” Angie asked.

  “I thought he might be available to fill in for you on your big day since your limo—”

  Angie’s lower lip wobbled. Mel tucked her hand behind Ray’s elbow and pinched his arm right through the leather.

  “Ouch!” He tugged his elbow away. Mel gave him her scariest face and jerked her head at Angie. “Yeah, okay, don’t talk about dead guys, I got it.”

  Angie looked like she was getting ready to wail. Ray, sensing disaster, started talking really fast.

  “So, check this out,” he said. “The driver here is a last-minute replacement for a guy who was found dead, who happens to be the same guy you and Tate hired.”

  “Meaning?” Angie asked. She looked confused.

  “Oh my god, seriously?” Mel asked.

  Both Ray and Angie looked at her in question.

  “I just found out that Brianna, the original caterer, was found dead in her kitchen,” she said.

  “Well, that’s taking the rule of three to a dark new level,” Ray said.

  “No, you’re missing the point,” Mel said.

  “Me, too,” Angie said. “Why the excitement?”

  “Because the photographer, caterer, and driver for Elise’s event were all murdered,” Mel gasped. “You had the same driver and the photographer in common but the caterer was just Elise’s. Don’t you see? You and Tate aren’t the targets of these murders. Elise is,” Mel said.

  As one, all three of them turned to look at Elise. Sensing their scrutiny, she paused in signing a book and asked, “What? Is there a spider on me?”

  “No, but you have to get out of here,” Mel said. “Your life is at stake.”

  Elise blinked. Almost in slow motion, she handed the book to the man who was waiting and then she threw back her head and laughed.

  “I don’t know who you are, cupcake baker,” she said, “but your sense of comic timing is fantastic.”

  She turned to the next person in line, still chuckling. Mel turned to Cassie. “I’m not kidding,” she said. “She has to get out of here.”

  “Mel, you’re acting crazy,” Cassie said. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Three murders,” Mel said. “Didn’t you find it the least bit odd that the photographer, the caterer, and the driver you hired for tonight’s event were all killed this week?”

  “I thought it was just a series of unfortunate events, like Mercury was in retrograde or something,” Cassie said. “Why would you think it has anything to do with Elise?”

  “Because there are no coincidences,” Angie said. She had pulled herself together and was looking as serious as a heart attack. “Three deaths and the only thing they had in common was this book signing.”

  “We need to call Uncle Stan,” Mel said. “He’ll want to know about this and the signing will have to be shut down.”

  “What?” Cassie cried.

  “I’m sorry,” Mel said. “It’s the only way to keep Elise safe.”

  “But the books and the customers and my sales,” Cassie said.

  “They’ll get their books,” Mel said. “But is Elise’s life worth the risk if there is a killer out there?”

  Cassie took a few seconds longer than Mel would have thought necessary to shake her head.

  “All right, fine,” she said. “I’ll tell Elise we need to pack it up.”

  She moved to stand beside Elise and they exchanged a tense whispered conversation. Elise looked surprised and then angry. Finally, she shook her head and put up her hand, indicating that she wouldn’t listen to any more, and turned back to the next person in line, clearly dismissing Cassie.

  “She’s refusing to leave,” Cassie said. “What do we do?”

  They all watched Elise for a moment. She had the glow of being in the limelight shining out of every pore. She was positively radioactive, and it was certain, she wasn’t going to go quietly.

  “‘Dyin’ ain’t much of a living, boy,’” Mel said.

  “The Outlaw Josey Wales,” Angie identified the movie quote. “I’ll call for backup.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Ray asked.

  “Stand right here and do not let Elise out of your sight,” Mel said. “If anyone makes a false move, have security haul them out of here.”

  “I’ll call Tate and the brothers,” Angie said.

  “I’ll call Stan,” Mel said.

  They moved to the side of the room and placed their calls. Mel kept one eye on the line while she waited for Stan to pick up. His phone rolled over to voicemail and she frowned. Never, ever, had Stan not picked up when she called.

  She glanced at Angie. “How goes it?”

  “I told Tate to get here as fast as he could and now I’m on hold with Tony,” she said. “He’s setting up a conference call with all of the brothers, including Joe.”

  “Good,” Mel said. “Uncle Stan didn’t answer.”

  Angie gave her a worried look. “Maybe he’s in the bathroom.”

  Mel nodded. “I’ll try again.”

  This time when it rolled over to voicemail she left a message. She frowned at her phone, wondering what was up with Uncle Stan. Panic thrummed through her. Maybe he’d had a heart attack—no, more likely an ulcer given the amount of antacid tablets he chewed. She debated calling her mother, but she didn’t want to send Joyce into a panic for nothing. Stan had been her shoulder to lean on ever since Mel’s father had died.

  She listened to Angie tell her brothers what was happening. There was a little bit of yelling—not a surprise—coming from her phone, and she held it away from her ear.

  Mel’s phone vibrated in her ha
nd and she checked the display to see Joe’s number.

  “Hi, Joe,” she answered. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the other line with Angie?”

  “Once the yelling started, I decided my time would be better spent checking in with you,” he said. “Is it true? Did they have the same vendors?”

  “All but the caterer,” Mel said. “Oz is making Tate and Angie’s cupcake tower.”

  “Weird,” Joe said. “Did you talk to Uncle Stan?”

  “I tried but he’s not answering,” she said.

  “That’s odd. Has he ever not answered a call from you?”

  “No, not even when I accidentally pocket-dialed him while making out with a boyfriend,” she said.

  Joe laughed. “I bet that was a moment. Wait. Now I’m picturing you making out with someone else. Argh, I think I’m jealous.”

  “You’re cute,” Mel said. “That was years ago. Uncle Stan showed up where we were parked and blasted us through the window with his Maglite. Mortifying for a woman in her twenties. The guy never called me again. Shocker.”

  “I think I’m gonna kiss Stan on the mouth the next time I see him,” Joe said. “Listen, I just finished feeding Captain Jack and now I’m driving over. I’ll swing by the station house on my way and see if anyone has seen Stan. Would that help?”

  Mel let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Yes, actually, that would be great. If I hear from him, I’ll call you.”

  “See you in a twenty minutes,” Joe said. “And, cupcake, you may want to wait outside of the book signing. You know, like out of the building and a block away.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Mel said. “Elise could be in danger.”

  “Which is exactly why you should leave,” he said. He let out a frustrated sigh. “There’s no way to talk you out of this, is there?”

  “’Fraid not,” she said. “We’ve got the hotel security on high alert and Ray is here. We’ll be okay.”

  “Be better than okay, be careful.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  The call ended and she glanced up to see Angie holding her phone away from her ear. The sound of male voices in mid-squabble was pouring out of her phone.

  Angie put her mouth near her phone and said, “Okay, I’ve got to go now. See you later. Bye.” Then she ended the call.

  “Are they on their way?” Mel asked.

  “No idea,” Angie said. “Probably not since we’re no longer targets. It may take them all night to fight it out since Joe left the conversation.”

  “He’s on his way here and he’s going to check in with Stan on his way.”

  “Good.” Angie moved so that she and Mel were standing back-to-back and able to survey the entire room. “I’m not sure what to do other than watch.”

  “Me, either,” Mel said. “I wish Elise would leave. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “I do, too,” Angie said.

  Her voice sounded weird, and Mel turned to study her friend’s face. With her long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and no makeup on her face, Angie looked more like a twenty-something than a thirty-something. The frown lines across her forehead indicated something was bothering her, and Mel suspected that she knew what it was.

  “It’s okay to be relieved,” she said.

  “I’m not,” Angie protested. “I mean, I am, but not the way you think. It’s not that I’m relieved that Tate and I aren’t the targets, it’s more that I’m relieved that it wasn’t because of us that Blaise was killed. Ugh, I’m a horrible person.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re just a friend who is heartbroken. Of course you’re relieved that it has nothing to do with you. That’s perfectly natural. What did Tate say about it?”

  “I didn’t tell him what we learned. I want to share the news in person. I think he’s going to need a hug when he hears it.”

  “You’re probably right,” Mel said. “I know he’s been struggling.”

  The stood quietly while Elise signed, Ray loomed in front of them like a human shield, and Cassie monitored the line. Mel noted that Cassie wasn’t letting people loiter or engage Elise in conversation. Instead, she kept the people moving and in no time they were down to the last few customers.

  Mel watched the last two middle-aged women with a beady eye. If either one of them was a psychopath, she was going to bring her down. They weren’t and they both left the room without a bit of resistance. Cassie signaled to the hotel workers to close the doors and when they did, Mel saw her sag in relief.

  “That was terrific,” Cassie said to Elise. “An amazing turnout. With the movie deal kicking up interest, I think this book is going to be on the bestsellers’ list for a long time to come.”

  Elise gave her a grumpy look. “That’s great, but you didn’t let me bask. Not even a little. You practically chased my fans right out of the room.”

  “That is for your own safety,” Cassie said. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but I do think Mel and Angie are right. It’s weird that three of the people hired to work your event are dead.”

  “Please,” Elise said. She waved her hand at Cassie. “No one is more upset than Mallory at the book’s publication and clearly she just came here to make a scene and yell at me. If anyone was going to murder me or those around me to get even with me, it would be her. Scottsdale is part of a major metropolitan area—murders happen.”

  Mel exchanged a look with Angie. Elise seemed awfully cavalier about the deaths of three people all by rather grisly means. Her narcissism really was breathtaking.

  “Elise, you have to take this more seriously,” Cassie chided her. “Your life could be in danger.”

  “Pish,” Elise said. “I’m going to the bar to celebrate my fame and fortune. Join me?”

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cassie said.

  “No one asked you to think, did they?” Elise asked. She tossed the end of her scarf over her shoulder and strode out of the room. “Come on, first round is on me.”

  “What do I do?” Cassie asked Mel.

  “We have to stay with her,” Mel said. “If someone is out to get her, they won’t do it with an audience. This may be their best chance.”

  Ray pushed off the wall and said, “Well, since you two are safe, I’m tapping out.” He pointed at Mel and Angie. “You two I’ll take a bullet for, but no one else.” He headed for the door and the ladies fell in behind him.

  “Aw, come on, Ray,” Angie said. “After this long night of surveillance, you could probably use a beer. You’ve earned it. My treat.”

  Ray made a face like he was considering it. “Since you put it that way. Lead on.”

  Angie looped her arm through her brother’s and led him down the ornate hallway towards the wood-paneled bar tucked into a room beside the main entrance. Mel and Cassie fell in behind them with Mel trying to glance around Ray’s broad shoulders to get a glimpse of Elise. She must have hightailed it to the lounge for a cocktail, because there was no sign of her in the lobby.

  The bar was quiet, with only a few businessmen sitting at a center table watching a basketball game on the large-screen television. A pitcher of beer was in front of them, and several plates of bar food. They were clearly in for the long haul.

  “Where did she go?” Cassie asked. “She said she was going to get a drink, right?”

  “I don’t see her,” Mel said. “That’s weird. We were right behind her.”

  Angie and Ray went to the bar, leaving Mel and Cassie to look for Elise. Mel saw a woman in the hotel uniform of a pair of navy slacks and white dress shirt walking by and she called out to her.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “Did you see a woman come in here, middle-aged, dressed all in white with a beige sweater and a long brown-and-white scarf? She just did
a book signing?”

  “No, sorry,” the woman said. She barely slowed her walk, and Mel just caught the name Laura on her nametag before she fled the room.

  “That was abrupt,” Cassie said.

  “And not helpful,” Mel agreed. She joined Angie and Ray at the bar.

  “Good evening, pretty ladies,” the bartender greeted Mel, Angie, and Cassie. “What can I get you?”

  “A beer,” Ray answered. “And none of that fancy microbrew stuff. I want a real man’s beer.”

  The bartender ignored him and his scowl, and Mel took the opportunity to question him.

  “Did you see a middle-aged woman come in, dressed in white with a beige sweater and a scarf?” she asked.

  The bartender shook his head. He had a thick head of hair, which he wore in a knot on his head. His beard was trimmed close and his mustache was long and curled up on the ends. The white dress shirt he wore looked a few sizes too small as it molded to his muscular frame, looking on the verge of tearing right down the middle.

  “I haven’t seen anyone come in except for those guys and you all evening,” he said. He pointed to the table of men watching the game. “You can see why I was so happy to see three pretty ladies arrive.”

  “They’re all taken,” Ray said with a glower. “Now how about my beer?”

  The bartender scowled at Ray. “I’m just making conversation, don’t have a fit.”

  “Oh, I’ll have a fit if I want,” Ray argued.

  The bartender turned away to pour Ray’s beer, but Mel put a hand on his arm, holding him in place, and said, “Sorry, but is there another bar in the resort or is this it?”

  “This is it,” he said. “But there is seating outside. If you’re looking for someone, she might have gone out there.”

  He pointed at two glass doors on the opposite side of the room before grabbing a glass and pouring Ray’s beer. Mel turned and glanced at Cassie. “I’ll bet that’s where she is,” she said. “I’ll check out there and you can check the booths in here.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Angie said.

  “No, you stay and watch the door in case she comes in,” Mel said. “I don’t want to lose her again.”