by Laura Durham
I listened for a moment and realized that the sound came from Darcy’s cubicle. I stood up and looked at the perfectly painted walls of Georgia’s office. I felt like smacking myself in the head, but instead I reached for a pink paperweight on the desk and hurled it against the wall. It hit the surface with a loud thud, and pieces of plaster and pale green paint fell to the floor with it.
Richard leapt out of his chair. “Look what you’ve done to Georgia’s wall. What on earth has gotten into you?”
“Maybe Darcy can explain,” I said, motioning to the catering assistant who stood in the doorway, staring at the hole in the wall.
Chapter 35
I walked around the desk and advanced on Darcy. “Maybe you forgot the little story you told me about Georgia’s fight with Henri the day he was murdered?”
Darcy remained silent, chewing on her lower lip.
“You claimed that Georgia got so enraged at Henri that she threw a paperweight at him and missed, hitting the wall in her office. One problem, though. No holes in the wall.” I took a breath and continued. “Very clever way to cast doubt on Georgia’s innocence.”
“What’s going on?” Richard snapped. “I thought we were finished with all this murder nonsense. Might I remind you, Annabelle, that you just had Jean hauled off to the police station?”
Darcy’s eyes flitted to mine and burned with anger before going blank again.
“I thought we’d wrapped everything up, too,” I said. “But I thought about something Jean said to me. ‘Don’t believe everything you see.’”
“How delightful,” Richard drawled. “A pastry chef with a penchant for murder and riddles.”
“I think he was talking about you.” I took a step toward Darcy. “Isn’t that right?”
“Her?” Richard shook his head. “But you have evidence that the three chefs killed Henri, don’t you?”
“Technically, yes,” I admitted. “But I have a feeling that there’s more to Darcy and to these murders than meets the eye.”
“So I exaggerated the story about Georgia and Henri’s fight.” Darcy shrugged. “So what?”
“Not only did you not want Georgia to get out of jail, you’re the one who fed information and fake evidence to the cops to make her look more suspicious.” I leveled a finger at her. “Who better to plant her trademark scarf for the cops to find after your boyfriend put blood on it?”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “I knew Jean couldn’t keep our relationship to himself. Men are so indiscreet.”
“Tell me about it, sister.” Richard sunk back down in his seat.
“Just because I’m dating Jean doesn’t mean I had anything to do with the murders,” Darcy said.
“I think men have been your downfall, Darcy.” I perched on the corner of the desk. “You’ve been covering up for your boyfriend and your father all this time.”
I watched as Darcy’s hands curled into fists, but her expression remained unchanged.
“Her father?” Richard asked.
“That’s right,” I said. “Didn’t you know that Darcy is the daughter that Marcello lost years ago?”
Richard spun around in his chair. “What? Have you lost your mind, Annabelle, or are you determined to ruin me?”
“When I heard Darcy humming the theme song from ‘Bewitched,’ everything fell into place. How many people do you know who hum old TV theme songs?” I asked.
Richard eyed Darcy. “Well, it would explain why a girl with an Irish name looks so Italian and has questionable choice in music.”
“My mother is Irish,” Darcy said quietly, her voice steady. “I took her last name.”
“I told you.” Richard gave me a smug grin. “I knew something wasn’t right from the beginning. Black Irish, my foot.”
I locked eyes with Darcy and put on my best poker face. “Jean confessed to everything. How he, Emilio, and Gunter killed Henri and you set up Georgia to take the fall for them.”
“Jean told you?” Darcy narrowed her eyes at me.
I nodded. “He said he wasn’t going down alone.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Darcy muttered. “Men are weak.”
“You father wasn’t weak, though,” I said. “He was behind this whole murder, wasn’t he?”
Darcy burst into derisive laughter. “My father wishes he masterminded Henri’s murder. No, he watched from the sidelines, as usual.”
“Thank heavens.” Richard brushed a hand across his forehead. “It’s so hard to replace good chefs nowadays.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Marcello had more motive than anyone. Henri destroyed his life.”
“No, Henri destroyed my life.” Darcy wrung her hands together. “Do you know what it’s like to be eight years old and have your family fall apart? After he was fired, my father became obsessed with getting revenge on Henri. It was all he thought about, talked about. He couldn’t find work and he became more and more bitter. Finally, my mother thought we’d be better off without him. I didn’t see him for twenty years.”
“So you’re telling me that after all that time, Marcello didn’t have anything to do with killing Henri?” I asked.
Darcy jabbed at her chest. “He may have forgotten about revenge, but I didn’t.”
Darcy no longer looked like the uptight, frazzled assistant I’d known. She looked calm, controlled, and a little crazy.
I edged around behind the desk. Why hadn’t I seen it before? “So you were behind all of this. You came to the Fairmont with the express purpose of killing Henri, and you waited three years to get the revenge your father never could.”
“Never send a man to do a woman’s job,” Darcy said.
Richard started to open his mouth in protest, but took one look at Darcy and abandoned the idea. He slid out of his chair and took a step toward the door. Darcy blocked him.
“You don’t understand,” she said patiently. “I didn’t kill Henri. I was nowhere near the murder scene.”
“You convinced Jean, Gunter, and Emilio to kill him for you, though,” I argued. “Jean is telling that to the police right this second.”
She shut the office door and leaned against it. “Actually, I only had to convince Jean. He got the others on board. They never knew I had anything to do with it.”
“Well, if you didn’t actually kill anyone, I’d say there’s no harm done.” Richard gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you agree, Annabelle?”
I ignored him. “You may not have killed Henri, but you conspired to murder him. Was it your idea to get rid of Gunter and Emilio, too?”
“So unfortunate.” Darcy frowned and pointed a finger at me. “But they couldn’t be trusted not to talk, what with you snooping around and asking so many questions.”
“Nice going,” Richard mumbled under his breath, as he joined me behind the desk.
“I gave you lots of warnings, Annabelle,” Darcy reminded me. “You don’t take hints very well, do you?”
“Don’t think I haven’t said exactly the same thing,” Richard said.
I glared at him. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
He avoided my eyes. “What? She makes a good point.”
I turned my attention back to Darcy. “Does your father appreciate that you did his dirty work for him and you’re going to go to jail for conspiracy to murder?”
“He has to be proud of me after what I did for him.” Darcy’s eyes darted wildly around the room. “He has to love me after the sacrifices I made for him. Sacrifices he was never willing to make for me.”
Richard gave a low whistle. “Have you ever considered family therapy?”
Darcy’s eyes blazed, and she slid a cake knife off the shelf next to her. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I have no intention of going to jail.”
“She’s got a knife.” Richard’s voice came out as little more than a squeak.
Darcy advanced toward us and I backed up, treading firmly on Richard’s toes.
&nb
sp; “You can’t prove that I had anything to do with the murders.” Darcy leaned over the desk and swiped the knife at us. “I’m innocent.”
Richard shrieked as the blade missed his face by only inches. “May I point out that this is not the behavior of an innocent person?”
Richard and I leaned back to avoid getting cut by the flailing blade and stumbled against the window screen. It bowed with our weight, and we both lurched back into the room. Darcy started around the side of the desk, and I gave Richard a push.
“Move it!” I screamed.
Darcy lunged for us as we ran for the door, and the knife nicked Richard in the arm. He took one look at the drops of blood spreading on the sleeve of his white shirt and collapsed in a dead faint. I stumbled over him, landing on my hands and knees.
“You’re not going to get away with this,” I gasped as Darcy rounded the desk.
“I keep telling you.” She raised the knife over her head. “I’m innocent.”
“You’re crazy.” I scurried around the desk as she dove for me, and got behind the swivel chair. Darcy came around the corner, cursing and panting, her hair hanging in her face. Now she did look crazy. She saw me behind the chair and rushed forward, arms outstretched.
I kicked the chair away from me and it spun toward her, knocking her off balance and sending her sprawling against the window screen. The knife blade pierced the screen, and she flailed for a second before her weight ripped the screen open and she plummeted to the ground below. I cringed when her screams came to an abrupt stop.
I sat frozen in shock for a few minutes, trying to digest what had happened. I could hear screams and loud voices below me, but I couldn’t force myself to move. Darcy had wasted her entire life so she could get revenge for her father and win his love? Dr. Phil would have a field day with this.
I finally tried to stand but my legs felt too weak, so I crawled shakily away from the window until I reached Richard. I rolled him over and slapped his cheeks.
His eyes fluttered open and he sat up. “What happened?”
“The short version?” I slumped against the desk. “Darcy fell out the window. She’s gone.”
The door swung open and Georgia gaped at us. “What on earth is going on here?” She looked around the room. “You trashed my office.”
Reese appeared behind her and called over his shoulder, “The body fell from in here, guys.”
“Body?” Georgia jumped when she saw Reese. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story.” I took Reese’s hand and let him pull me up. “Give me a second and I’ll explain everything.”
“What happened to your arm?” Georgia asked Richard, pointing to the blood on his shirt.
Reese turned to one of the officers who’d joined him. “Get another ambulance here. Looks like we’ve got a stab wound.”
“Stab wound?” Richard looked down at his arm, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged to the floor again.
Georgia stuck her head out into the hall. “Where’s Darcy? She was here a minute ago.”
I looked from Reese to the ripped window screen and back again. “I’m afraid she stepped out.”
Chapter 36
“Where have you been, Annabelle?” Kate rushed me as Richard and I stepped out of the Park Hyatt’s elevator onto the ballroom level. Groomsmen in black tuxedos clustered by the door of the ballroom, handing out programs, and the familiar sounds of a string quartet came from inside. “It’s ten minutes until they walk down the aisle, and we’re missing a mother of the groom.”
“I got here as fast as I could,” I said as I appraised the setup. A towering glass vase of green viburnum dominated a round table in the foyer and made me do a double take. The Mighty Morphin Flower Arrangers had blown me away again. “Richard had to get stitches and wouldn’t let me leave him.”
“An exaggeration,” Richard spluttered. “But I would think that my life would be a little more important than yet another wedding.”
“Stitches?” Kate looked at Richard’s shirt and her mouth dropped open.
Richard lowered his voice and made sure no guests were within earshot. “I was stabbed.”
“By Jean?” Kate asked.
“No, by Darcy.” Richard was relishing every moment of this. “Turns out she was the brains behind the whole operation. It also turns out that she’s Marcello’s daughter.”
“Wow.” Kate looked dazed. “I missed a lot.”
“Once we find the missing mother, I’ll fill you in,” I assured her, taking the wedding timeline out of her hands and looking at my watch.
“She was here for pictures, and then she went to her room to freshen up her makeup,” Kate said. “Although between you and me if she puts on much more she’s going to topple over from the weight of her eye shadow.”
“Is that her?” Richard’s eyes were wide as he stared behind me.
I turned around and was almost blinded by the copper crushed lamé dress advancing on me. I hadn’t thought it possible to match a dress to a skin tone as perfectly as she had. She was an unnatural shade of burnished orange from her shellacked hair to her talon-like fingernails. The only spots on her body that weren’t orange were her turquoise eyelids.
“What’s the mother of the bride wearing?” I whispered to Kate.
“Lavender suit. No beads.”
“Have they seen each other?” I hesitated to ask.
Kate nodded. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“This is better than reality TV,” Richard said.
“Well, girls.” The groom’s mother tapped her watch. “Looks like it’s showtime. Come on, Harold.” Her husband shuffled behind her toward the ballroom.
“What happened to the grandfather?” I’d expected to see the geriatric Don Juan permanently attached to Kate.
“I had him seated early.” Kate smiled mischievously. “To give him more time to get down the aisle.”
I patted her on the shoulder. “Good thinking.”
“Do you want to get the bridesmaids lined up while I deal with the moms and cue the—” I stopped in mid-sentence as I saw Leatrice, Ian, and Reese get off the elevator. “What are you doing here? All of you?”
Reese rolled his eyes. “I found these two snooping around the Fairmont.”
Leatrice nodded eagerly. “Ian and I heard about the latest accident at the Fairmont on my police scanner and he wanted to come down and see what happened.”
“We can’t have them messing up our crime scene, but I recognized your neighbor right away.” The side of Reese’s mouth quivered until he could no longer suppress a grin. “When I mentioned that you were over here, they insisted on coming to see you.”
“How thoughtful of you.” I hoped he didn’t miss my sarcasm.
Ian stepped in close to me and took my hand into both of his. “We heard what happened. Are you all right?”
My mouth went dry as I tried to speak. I didn’t know which man made me more nervous, but I definitely couldn’t handle them together.
Richard sighed. “Oh for heaven’s sake, she’s fine. I’m the one who nearly died.”
“Did you now?” Leatrice bounced over to Richard, the penguins on her sweater jiggling. “Is that blood?”
Reese cleared his throat to get my attention. “I also thought I’d tell you that I got a call from the station. Jean finally confessed to the murders and to Darcy’s part in them. Apparently she was the one who managed to lift the video tape when she was giving a statement at the station.”
“So she was the one giving you evidence against Georgia that day? She must have overheard us talking about the video of the murder.” I tried to keep my voice steady and sound professional. “I’m glad everything turned out okay.”
Reese looked at my hands clasped in Ian’s, and then met my eyes for a brief moment. “I have to get back to the crime scene. Try to stay out of trouble from now on, okay, Annabelle?”
I took a tiny step back from Ian, whose gaze was now focused on Rees
e. I didn’t want Reese to think that Ian and I were a couple when we hadn’t even gone out yet, but I didn’t want Ian to think that I had a thing for the detective, either. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I definitely needed an aspirin from my emergency kit.
“The detective knows you pretty well, eh?” Ian said, loosening his grip on my hands.
I could feel my face getting warm. “We’ve worked together before, that’s all.”
“Some people have a hard time staying out of trouble,” Richard said under his breath, looking pointedly at me as Reese got back on the elevator. “Especially when they juggle too much at one time.”
I gave Richard a kick in the shins and felt better when he yelped in pain.
“What time is it?” Kate pulled my hands away from Ian to look at my watch. “We only have three minutes.”
I flipped a page in the timeline to bring me to the ceremony page. “Sorry to rush off, guys, but we have to get a bride down the aisle.”
“Well, that’s another thing.” Kate avoided my eyes. “The bride is…um, here, see for yourself.”
She pulled me by the elbow down the hall to the junior ballroom, with Richard, Leatrice, and Ian trailing behind. The small ballroom had been sectioned off and set up as a holding room for the bridal party. Fern sat in the midst of the celadon-clad bridesmaids dispensing dubious sex advice. The bride wore a dazed smile on her face and looked like she was on the verge of slipping off her chair.
“Is she drunk?” I hissed at Kate.
“I’d say she’s snockered,” Ian said Fern jumped up from his chair and ran over to me. “Annabelle! Don’t they all look gorgeous? I mean for a bunch of tramps, of course.” He burst into laughter, and all the girls joined him.
I had to live vicariously through Fern’s insults. Just once I’d like to be able to call a bridesmaid a tramp and live to tell the tale.
I noticed Fern’s glassy eyes. “How much champagne did you all have?”
“Oh, it wasn’t the champagne that relaxed everyone.” Fern cupped his hand and leaned close to my ear. “It was the Valium I crushed up in it that really took the edge off Nadine.”