Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part

by Peggy Dulle

  I nodded and thought there probably was a list on the internet of how to plan a wedding. Could I do this by myself? I would wait until after I met Savanah and then decide. If she seemed nice and confident, I would let her handle the details.

  “I can see your mind is racing already, Teach. I’ll let you get to your plans.”

  “Thanks, Justin.” I walked him to the door, but really didn’t see him leave. There was so much to do.

  Then I remembered something I hadn’t shared with Tom or the two detectives from Anaheim. I walked into my spare room and dug through the cards and gifts on my desk. I hadn’t taken that bracelet with me; I had left it at home.

  Chapter 10

  I knew it was stupid not to tell them, but if I had told Tom or the detectives about it, Tom would have insisted upon staying with me every minute of every day and the detectives would probably have called me a liar and arrested me for the murder of Kathy Mitchell. I needed to figure out who came into my house and why they stole my bracelet and put it on the wrist of a dead woman.

  I called Justin.

  “Hey Teach, you need some help with the wedding already?”

  “No, not that. I want you to look into Kathy Mitchell. She’s the woman who we found dead in our bed at the Copacabana. Also there was another woman killed a few days earlier with the same general description. Her name was Miranda Carter.”

  “A serial killer with a type?” he asked.

  “Maybe, just check it out and get back to me.”

  “Are we investigating their deaths?” Justin asked, already clicking the keys on his keyboard.

  “Yes, but don’t say anything to Tom. I told him I wouldn’t investigate.”

  Justin laughed. “We rarely tell the chief anything this early in an investigation, Teach.”

  I laughed and asked, “Also did you see anyone around my house while I was gone?”

  “No, you want me ask my mom?”

  I started to say no but changed my mind. “Yes, ask her.”

  “Why?”

  “A piece of jewelry, a bracelet, is missing and I want to know if someone came in and took it.”

  “Anything else missing?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Wasn’t your laptop there and your new flat screen television?”

  “Yes.”

  “They might not have wanted to carry out your TV, but the laptop would have been an easy snatch.”

  “It’s an old laptop, nobody would want it.”

  “They could still sell it for some cash, Teach. Was the jewelry expensive? Maybe it’s a thief who specializes in jewelry that he can melt down.”

  “It was silver and I doubt it was worth very much.”

  “That’s weird. Maybe you just misplaced it.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I’ve got the two police reports on Kathy Mitchell and Miranda Carter. I’ll send them to your email address.”

  “That was quick. Thanks, Justin.”

  “Look again for your bracelet, maybe it fell between the cushions in your couch or behind your dresser. You might have even put it in your jewelry box when you were packing. I know how focused on Disneyland you were. Happy wedding planning,” Justin said as he hung up the phone.

  I didn’t have to look again; I knew exactly where it was – in an evidence bag in Anaheim.

  I opened my laptop and downloaded and printed both police reports. I put them side by side and looked between the two women. They really didn’t have much in common except their physical appearance. Kathy had been a grocery clerk from Bend, Oregon and Miranda, an actress from LA. Kathy was stabbed fifteen times and Miranda twenty. The coroner’s reports said that their hearts were obliterated. They were found in different places. Kathy in a hotel and Miranda in her apartment. The only jewelry Miranda was wearing was a thin chain around her neck with a small Egyptian hieroglyphic charm on it but it didn’t say anything about it not being hers.

  So if it was a serial killer with a victim type, how had my bracelet gotten there? What were the chances that there were two exact bracelets? None, but maybe Justin had a point. Maybe I moved the bracelet while I was focused on packing for Disneyland.

  Could the bracelet have been in the bottom of my suitcase when I packed for our trip? I thought I had dumped all the contents onto the desk in my spare room but maybe I missed the bracelet. Could it have fallen out when Tom dropped my suitcase contents in the hotel room? Maybe it had been on the floor and the killer had just picked it up and, feeling remorse, placed it on the dead woman. I went to sleep worrying about the bracelet, the two murdered women, and if it had anything to do with me at all.

  In the morning, I put everything out of my head except my wedding as I drove to the wedding planner’s office. It was located in a strip mall with a salon on one side and an insurance office on the other. The door was etched with the logo, Wooding’s Bridal Consultant, and a beautiful tall tree with colored ribbon cascading from branch to branch. It was beautiful and quite classy. I liked the woman’s style already.

  I opened the door into a spacious reception area. Light oak wood antique coffee and side tables mixed with a modern light leather couch with splashes of pastel colors in the pillows, delicate lace curtains and more ribbons, tastefully done. In the center sat an empty oak desk.

  “Hello?” I said.

  An athletic woman several inches taller than my five foot frame and stylishly dressed in a summer flowery dress stuck her head out of a door, labeled J. Wooding, Wedding Consultant.

  Her face lit up with a smile and she said, “You must be Liza.”

  I nodded and extended my hand. “Are you the receptionist or Ms. Wooding?”

  She shook my hand and said, “Nora, my receptionist, got married on Sunday. She gave me one more day, yesterday, before she left on her one-month honeymoon this morning. They’re doing a thirty-day cruise in the Mediterranean.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “I promised her I wouldn’t hire anyone else, but after this morning’s craziness, I might find a temp for a few weeks.”

  “What happened this morning?”

  “Three brides called with last minute changes to their itineraries. That’s never happened before, which tells me that Nora usually talks them out of it or takes care of it herself.”

  “That’s a good receptionist.”

  “I didn’t know how good until this morning,” she said as the phone rang. “Come on in my office and I’ll let the answering machine get the calls for the next hour.”

  Her office was also done in light oak wood and pastel colors. I’m not a fan of pastels, but these were beautiful. One entire wall was floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered in books, figurines, awards from the Chamber of Commerce, and other knickknacks.

  She indicated for me to sit on the light brown loveseat and she took one of the vintage wing-back chairs that sat in front of it. I was impressed that she hadn’t taken the oak desk and made me sit in one of the high-back chairs in front of it. This was more personable without a desk in between us.

  “First off, call me Savanah.”

  “Okay,” I told her.

  “I bet I’ve changed a lot from the description your sister gave you of me, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “I always carried a few extra pounds so I started going to the gym during my senior year in high school. I actually lost fifty pounds and put on muscle instead. I also added some highlights to my very dull brown hair.” She laughed.

  “It was a good combination,” I complimented her.

  “Thanks,” she smiled brightly. “So Nora left me some notes about your wedding. It needs to be in a month.”

  “This summer for sure and as soon as possible.”

  She looked from me to my stomach.

  I laughed. “No, I’m not pregnant. My fiancé and I don’t live anywhere near each other, so I’ve also got to move this summer and get ready for a new job in the fall.”

 
; “Teacher?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. So let’s shoot for the middle of July.”

  “That would be great.”

  Savanah went over to her desk, took out a binder with my name embossed on the front. A nice touch. She opened the binder and wrote in July 21.

  “Okay, I’ll ask some questions and you just answer the first thing that comes to your mind. Don’t think too long, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Indoor or outdoor wedding?”

  “Out.”

  “Church or not?”

  “Not.”

  “Wedding and reception in the same place, then?”

  “Yes.”

  With each answer she made a note in the book.

  “Location of the wedding?”

  “Modesto or close to there.”

  “That’s between your house and your fiancé’s house?”

  I nodded.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Tom Owens.”

  She made a note and continued, “Okay, I can think of ten places or so in that general area that would be a good place outside for a wedding and also have a contingency to go inside.”

  “Why?”

  “It can get hot out there. You don’t want your guests melting in 104 degree weather.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. It usually wasn’t that hot in San Ramon or Gainesville.

  “Several of the places will also take care of flowers, food, and the cake. Is that something you’d be interested in or do you have specific people for those already?”

  “I have nothing, and an all-in-one place sounds perfect to me.”

  Savanah smiled. “You’re easy to please.”

  “I want to get married in a month. I don’t think I have the luxury of being picky.”

  “Oh, we will still be picky but both the places I’m now thinking of have been in business for a long time and are good at what they do.”

  “Great,” I told her.

  “How many attendants?”

  I hesitated for a moment, made a decision, and said, “I’ll have two.”

  She laughed. “You haven’t thought about this or talked to Tom about this yet, have you?”

  “No,” I said honestly.

  “Number of guests?”

  I shrugged.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you a list of questions that you need to talk to him about and then call me with the answers.”

  “I can do that,” I told her.

  She made several notes on a piece of paper and then asked, “Color scheme of the wedding?”

  I shrugged.

  “Flower color?”

  “Plastic.”

  “What?” Her eyebrows rose.

  “I’m really allergic to flowers and anything with a strong smell will start me sneezing.”

  She nodded, then continued, “We can do real flowers that don’t smell, or silk. Which would you prefer?”

  The allergist in me wanted silk but the environmentalist in me thought real flowers would be better.

  “I’d like real, if we can.”

  She nodded. “That leaves out daisies, goldenrod flowers, single flowered baby’s breath, and any rose that has started to bloom. Sometimes if you get them closed, they don’t smell that strong.”

  “Roses are definitely out,” I told her.

  “Okay. There are a several flowers we can choose that have practically no smell at all. Orchids are good but sometimes they cause a skin rash from the sap, the stems have to be kept in separate small tubes of water. Also bougainvillea flowers come in beautiful colors and bright white. The double flowers will have no pollen at all and they’re good for using around perfume-sensitive people, as they have next to no smell.”

  This woman knew her business – I was impressed. She was personable and knowledgeable, a great combination.

  While she wrote notes in the binder, my eyes wandered back to her bookshelves. She had a little pyramid, a lion figurine, and a small pirate ship on one shelf. It was a strange collection of items. What was the theme?

  Savanah glanced up from the binder and followed my eyes. She laughed and said, “I love the slot machines in Vegas, and I’m pretty lucky, so whenever I win I buy a souvenir from the gift shop. It’s usually something small, like the pyramid or a locket or charm. It makes me feel like I’m giving some money back to the casino and then when I go and win again, I don’t feel bad.”

  “Maybe I should try that, I’m not so lucky.”

  She smiled brightly. “I’ve got most of your information, now. I will make a few calls and we can go see a couple of places tomorrow. Then as soon as we choose the place, we need to get out your invitations. They should have gone out at least two weeks ago. So let’s start with the invitations.”

  Savanah brought out five books. “Do you want to have Tom come in and help you pick out the invitations?”

  “No, he said all he wanted was a gray tux. I could choose the rest.”

  “That’s a smart man.” Savanah opened up the first book.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen more fights between couples when they try to decide on everything together. It’s good if just one person makes the decisions.”

  “I’ll probably pick two or three and then get his input since I have the time until we choose the place.” I didn’t want to do this entire event by myself. Besides, I wanted someone to help take part of the blame if the entire event went up in smoke.

  Chapter 11

  I spent the next hour going through the five huge binders. How come there were so many choices? You could choose any color, style, font, and kinds – some that are one sheet, some that open up, some that are tri-folded, and the list went on.

  “Excuse me,” I told Savanah.

  “Making a call?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Stay here in my office and I’ll go out and answer all of the messages on the office machine.”

  “Thanks,” I told her.

  I dialed Tom’s number.

  “Hi, Liza.”

  “Tom, did you know there are over,” I looked at the front of each book, quickly calculated, and then said, “Over a thousand different designs for wedding invitations.”

  He laughed. “That’s why I told you to pick one. Pamela and I got into a huge fight over what kind of invitation we should have. I’m trying to avoid all the pitfalls of the last wedding.”

  “Okay, but I need a little direction.”

  “Honey, I don’t really care what the invitation looks like and I trust you.”

  I was fingering a black and red invitation – it was classy.

  “I know that you won’t choose something hideous like a black and red invitation – that’s what Pamela chose.”

  I put my head in my hand and groaned.

  “Liza?” I heard Tom’s voice.

  “So you do have an opinion, no black and red.”

  “It’s not that, the invitations were fine but I guess I associate them with my last failed marriage.”

  “Then I will either have to know more about the last wedding or you will have to have some input with each choice.”

  Silence.

  “Tom?”

  “I don’t want to relive that event with you, so I’ll take door number two – having some input.”

  I flipped open another book. The invitations were beautiful with ribbons and charms. Again they were very classy.

  “I also don’t like invitations with lots of ribbons on them or those stupid little charms attached to each ribbon.”

  The second book closed and I opened up the third. It had simpler invitations.

  “And no flowers all over the invitations or those curly designs.”

  So much for book three, I opened up the fourth. For a man who didn’t have an opinion, he had a lot of them.

  I was on the last book. There was a very simple one on the third page. As Tom rambled on about what he didn’t like, I
said, “I’m sending you a picture of an invitation. It’s simple with just two brushed hearts on it and it says: Celebrate the beginning of our new life together, on the front.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “The writing on the invitation is a muted maroon, but it comes in every color imaginable.”

  A few seconds later, Tom said, “I love it. It’s simple and says exactly how I feel about the day.”

  “What color?” I asked.

  “I don’t care,” he said.

  I laughed. It had taken four books to find the invitation.

  “How about we lean toward a redder color? I’d like to have a mixture of white and red flowers in my bouquet.”

  “I love red, especially your hair.”

  “Okay, then it’s settled.”

  “That was easy,” Tom said lightly.

  I rolled my eyes and was glad he couldn’t see me. “I need some more information from you, do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure, ask away.”

  I dug out the piece of paper that Savanah had given me and picked up the pen from the coffee table. “How many guests are you going to invite?”

  “Maybe 50.”

  “Okay, I was thinking 50 too, so that’s a guest list of 100 people.”

  “Okay.”

  “How many people came to your last wedding?”

  “Three hundred and sixty three – it was a zoo.”

  “Okay, next. How many attendants will you have?

  “How many do you want? I’ll just match them up.”

  “I was thinking Kenny and Jordan.”

  “I was thinking about three. David, as my best man, and then my son, Michael, and my brother, Duane, as the other attendants but I can change it to two.”

  Again, the man had said he would match mine and then he had added one. “I can do three. I’ll ask my friend, Julie, to be another bridesmaid.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Duane’s the brother who you said hated you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know I haven’t met him or your son?”

  “Our wedding is as good a place as any,” Tom replied.

  “I told the wedding consultant an outside wedding with the reception and wedding in the same place, is that okay?”

  “Great.”