by Laura Durham
“Wire?” My mouth went dry. “Like a garrote?”
Reese moved his head slowly up and down. “Like a premeditated hit.”
Chapter 5
“Right this way,” I said to an arriving cluster of guests, sweeping a hand in the direction of the back terrace. I turned to Kate once they’d passed out of earshot. “Is the string quartet ready?”
She gave me two thumbs up. “I went over the cues with them.”
I listened to the sounds of the ensemble as the notes drifted back to us. “Do I hear instrumental Madonna?”
Kate cocked her head to one side. “Sounds like it. This is Stefan’s version of sacred music.”
“Who knew ‘Holiday’ would sound so pretty on violins?” I let out a quick breath and glanced down at my timeline, checking off the last line item before the processional, and taking a peek at my phone. It was time.
“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Kate said, “but I felt some raindrops when I was outside.”
I willed my eye not to start twitching. If this wedding got rained out after having its officiant murdered and being moved to another location, Stefan would lose his mind, and I would need to enter the witness relocation program.
“We have the parasols set out at the back of the aisle, right?” I asked.
“Yes, but those are for sun and they’re paper. If it starts raining, I’m not sure how long they’ll hold up.”
“It won’t start raining until after the ceremony,” I said with more conviction than I felt.
“I hope you’re right, boss.”
“Me too.” I cast my eyes to the closed doors behind which the grooms and their groomsmaids were waiting. “Ready to line them up?”
Kate produced her timeline from the pocket of her dress. “Are we keeping the order the same, or are we changing it around so it’s more like a Jewish processional?”
I patted her arm. “Let’s keep it the same since the grooms aren’t actually Jewish. Why don’t you line everyone up while I make sure the rabbi is in place?”
Kate headed for the holding room, and I headed for the back of the house, pausing when I saw Rabbi Hoffman standing at the doors leading out to the terrace. He was shorter than me and had thinning gray hair underneath his black satin yarmulke and a pair of wire rim glasses sliding down his nose. He held a black leather portfolio under his arm.
When he saw me, he pushed his glasses up and looked at his wristwatch. “I hope we’re going to be on time. I do have another ceremony after this one.”
“We’re ready to go if you are,” I said. I let my eyes drift past him to where guests were seated on rows of wooden folding chairs and saw only a handful of open chairs in the back. “Did Kate explain we’d like the simplest version of the ceremony?”
“I assume the bride and groom won’t be circling each other at the beginning?”
My stomach tightened. “Correct, but did Kate not explain what kind of wedding this is?”
Rabbi Hoffman opened the leather portfolio. “I’m sure she did. Let me look at my notes. It’s a busy wedding day, you know. I’ve already performed two ceremonies today, and I have one more after this.”
Four weddings on one day? Maybe I should have been a wedding officiant instead of a wedding planner.
I turned as I heard the sound of Kate’s heels and Fern’s hiccups behind me. Kate led the procession with Stefan behind her, followed by the four groomsmaids in their sparkly gold dresses and, finally, Jesse. Fern flitted between the women, touching up their hair with his round brush and his can of hairspray. In his shiny gold jacket, he almost looked like one of the bridal party, which was entirely his intention. I coughed as a cloud of spray drifted over.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
Kate left the front of the line and leaned her head out of the door, waving to the string quartet and giving them a nod. The song they were playing tapered off and a solo violin began the first few notes of “Like A Prayer.”
“You can go,” I whispered to the rabbi, stepping back so I was hidden behind the doorframe. I waved the rest of the processional forward.
Stefan gave me a tight smile as he waited with me in the doorway. He looked up and squinted. “Are those rain clouds?”
“It’s not going to rain until after the ceremony,” I said.
He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “Agreed.”
I spotted the rabbi in place between the two urns of colorful flowers and touched Stefan’s arm. “It’s your turn.”
He walked briskly down the aisle, twice as fast as we’d practiced in rehearsal, and I realized he must be more nervous than he let on. One of the groomsmaids stepped up, and I adjusted her bouquet so she wasn’t holding it up under her chin. “Rest your forearms on your hip bones and walk slowly.”
I sent her down the aisle and twisted around to see Detective Reese walk into the back of the room accompanied by a uniformed police officer. I told Kate to take over processional duty and hurried over to Reese. “I thought you were going to let us get through the ceremony.”
“I am.” He pointed to Fern fluttering around the attendants. “But you won’t need him once you get the bridal party down the aisle will you?”
I heard Fern hiccup several times in quick succession. “No. He should have at least ten minutes before they come back down the aisle.”
Another groomsmaid began her walk and the entire line moved up, including Fern, who now seemed to be trying to feather the sides of Jesse’s hair.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until Fern’s had a chance to sober up?” I asked.
“When will that be?” Reese crossed his arms over his chest. “Wednesday?”
I heard the music change; it took me a few moments to recognize the theme song from Game of Thrones and remember it was Stefan and Jesse’s favorite show.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Fern is willing and able to talk to you, although I doubt he knows anything.”
Kate walked up, brushing her hands together to signal the job was done. “The hard part is over. They’re all down the aisle.”
Reese pointed to the doorway behind us. “Including Fern.”
Kate and I spun around in time to see Fern snatch a pink parasol from the basket at the back of the aisle, pop it open over Jesse’s head, and process down the aisle beside him.
I briefly considered tackling Fern or running out and dragging him back by his ponytail, but I knew that would be more of a distraction. Even though I wanted to kill him, I knew it was best to play this off to the guests as if it was the plan all along. In his gold jacket, Fern looked every bit like a member of the wedding party.
“What does he think he’s doing?” I asked, watching him weave his way down the aisle.
“Avoiding questioning.” Reese’s face was serious, and I knew this did not look good for Fern.
“Uh oh.” Kate put her hands over her eyes as Fern stumbled, grabbing Jesse’s arm to keep from falling. She ran off to the getting-ready room and returned a moment later, a shocked look on her face.
“What?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.
“I may have crushed up some Valium in the last champagne bottle to help calm their nerves before the ceremony.” Kate didn’t meet my eyes. “I thought they might each have a last sip. I didn’t know they’d drink the whole bottle before the ceremony.”
I stared at Kate for a few moments before turning my attention to the bridal party standing at the front of the aisle. The groomsmaids looked glassy-eyed and swayed where they stood, and Jesse held one hand over his mouth as he giggled. Fern leaned against one of the pedestals holding a flower urn, the parasol in his other hand held high.
“Shalom,” Rabbi Hoffman said, causing most of the audience to exchange glances and whispers. “We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments: the joining of two hearts.”
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, I told myself. Aside from the fact the hairdresser was standing next to
the grooms, and the attendants looked like they might pass out, the ceremony might not be such a disaster after all.
“In this ceremony, we will witness the joining of . . .” Rabbi Hoffman paused and looked up at the two grooms in front of him and the women standing on either side of Stefan and Jesse. “Wait. Is this a double wedding?”
I closed my eyes as I heard Fern explain in a slurred stage whisper—and while hiccupping several times—Jesse was marrying Stefan.
The rabbi looked at the women again and put a hand up to his ear. “Which one is Jesse?”
More hiccups as Fern pointed to the brown-haired groom.
“It’s unfortunate your rabbi is hard of hearing,” Reese said.
“But a good thing Fern brought an umbrella.” Kate pointed to the raindrops beginning to fall as guests opened their parasols. One of the groomsmaids had her head back and mouth open, and it looked like she was trying to catch the rain.
“Seriously with the Valium?” I asked Kate.
“One tiny pill.” Kate held two fingers close together. “At least Stefan looks relaxed. Normally he’d be pitching a fit if he was getting rained on and being married by a rabbi who’s trying to pair him off with one of his groomsmaids.”
I looked to Fern, who no longer leaned against the floral pedestal. He had his arm outstretched so the pink parasol covered both grooms as they faced each other. Kate was right. Stefan’s usual sneer was gone, replaced by a vacant smile. Maybe doping the bridal party hadn’t been such a horrible idea after all, although I had no intention of admitting that to Kate.
“Is there anyone present who has just cause why this couple should not be united?” the rabbi asked.
Fern hiccupped loudly as he leaned against the flower pedestal again. He shook his head when the rabbi glanced over at him, and he pantomimed zipping up his lips. “Not me. Carry on, good sir.”
I watched in growing horror as Fern’s feet slowly slid lower. The parasol he held over the grooms’ heads dropped so low they were squatting underneath it and looked half their normal height.
Kate tapped a finger on her chin. “Do you think the photographer can make them taller in all the photos?”
I felt my eyelid vibrate as I turned to Reese. “You might be dealing with more than one murder today, although, under the circumstances, I feel confident no jury in the world would find me guilty.”
Reese looked at the grooms hunched underneath a pink parasol and the groomsmaid weaving her head as she tried to catch rain in her mouth. “I’d acquit you.”
Chapter 6
I held my shoes in one hand as I tiptoed up the stairs to my fourth-floor apartment, my boxy metal emergency kit hanging from my shoulder, and the weight of it digging into my flesh. I wasn’t sure which ached more—my feet after a long wedding day, or my shoulder after carrying my emergency kit in from my car. I sighed as I set the case down outside my apartment door and rubbed the grooves left in my shoulder.
The building was quiet, and the only hint there were other residents was the faint scent of pizza lingering in the air. I tried to keep my keys from jingling as I opened my door, sliding the case across the floor and inside with one foot instead of picking it up again.
The corner stone-front apartment building in Georgetown consisted of four floors with only two units per floor, mostly occupied by young professionals like me with a couple of retired longtime residents rounding out the group. I didn’t know most of my neighbors other than to say hello or sign for a package if they were out. Except for one.
“There you are!” Leatrice’s voice made me jump.
I tried not to groan out loud as I turned around to see my octogenarian neighbor’s platinum-blond head popping up from the stairwell. “You’re still awake? It’s almost one in the morning.”
“Matlock marathon,” she said. “And you know I always like to stay up on your wedding days and make sure you get home safely.”
Ever since I’d moved into the building seven years ago, my first-floor neighbor had taken it upon herself to act as my substitute mother, matchmaker, and personal security detail. Leatrice was the unofficial den mother of the building and ran her own version of a neighborhood watch, which usually consisted of stalking people she deemed suspicious until they moved out.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, purposely standing in the doorway of my apartment so she couldn’t follow me inside. The last thing I needed after an arduous wedding was Leatrice drilling me about all the details.
She walked the last few steps to join me on my apartment’s landing, and I did a double take. Unless I was a lot more tired than I thought and had started hallucinating, the tiny woman who barely reached my shoulder wore brown-footed pajamas with a tail. Even though she didn’t have the floppy-eared hood pulled up on her head, I could tell they were dog pajamas. Chances were good she bought them in the kids’ department.
“It’s no trouble at all. Especially after what happened at your wedding.” She rocked back and forth on her pajamaed feet.
“What do you mean?” I reached a hand inside my apartment and flipped on the lights, blinking a few times as the overhead light in my living room illuminated the yellow twill couch and matching oversized chair. I cringed as I noticed the piles of papers I’d left on the wooden dining room table earlier when I was going through the wedding files. I’d even left my empty Mocha Frappuccino bottle on the glass coffee table when I’d rushed out.
“The homicide of course.”
How could I have forgotten Leatrice’s police scanner? “You heard that?” I dropped my keys on the bookcase next to my front door and shoved my emergency case to the side as I stepped inside.
“A dead body called in from Meridian House?” She squeezed around me and hopped onto the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. “How could I miss it?”
I couldn’t help flinching a little when she mentioned the dead body. The image of Cher Noble, her purple-shadowed eyes wide and unblinking, would not be one I’d purge from my brain anytime soon.
“Was Detective Reese there?” Leatrice asked, waggling her drawn-on eyebrows.
I deposited my black Longchamp bag on the floor next to the couch and headed to the kitchen. In the chaos of the wedding day, I’d barely eaten a thing. It hadn’t bothered me at the time, but now I could feel my empty stomach rumbling.
I opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. “He was on duty.”
“Well, wasn’t that lucky? It’s so nice when young couples get to work together these days.”
I scanned my nearly empty shelves, grabbed a day-old Chinese takeout box, and closed the door. “We don’t exactly work together.” I didn’t mention calling us an official couple might be premature.
“But since so many crimes seem to take place at your weddings, you get to see the detective a lot. Not everyone is so lucky.”
Only Leatrice would see criminal activity at my weddings as a good thing. I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of true crime TV. And Matlock.
“Do you want anything?” I called through the open space dividing my kitchen and living room as I dumped the container of lo mein on a plate and popped it into the microwave. “I have leftover Chinese.”
“No thank you, dearie, but you go right ahead.”
I grabbed a wine goblet I’d rinsed and set upside down to dry on the counter earlier in the week and filled it from an opened bottle of pinot noir. I stepped out of my black flats, leaving them in the kitchen once the microwave dinged, and I retrieved my plate and headed for the living room. “I didn’t get a chance to eat all day, even though Richard had special meals for all the vendors.”
“Richard was there?” Leatrice asked. “How did he handle seeing your boyfriend? I know it’s been hard for him after things didn’t work out between you two in the romance department.”
Leatrice had never been able to understand Richard and I were best friends, and there was never any potential for us in the romance department. In her mind, if a man and
woman were attractive, young, and single, there was always potential. I’d never had the heart to explain to Leatrice that Richard and I were both looking for Mr. Right.
“He’s getting used to the idea.” I sat down on the couch next to Leatrice and put my wine glass on the coffee table. I began pulling the bobby pins out of my bun until my hair fell loose around my shoulders. It felt great to let it down after having it pulled up all day. “You know he’s seeing someone too.”
“I’m so glad you’re both moving on.” Leatrice patted my knee. “Now tell me about the murder.”
I swirled the lo mein noodles onto my fork and blew on them. “I don’t know how much I should be telling you. It’s still an open investigation.”
Leatrice produced a small spiral notebook from her pajama pocket and flipped it open. “The police got the call around five o’clock.”
I took a bite of noodles and washed it down with a too-large gulp of wine, which made me cough. “You took notes?”
“The basics. I still don’t know who was killed.”
“I guess it’s pretty common knowledge by now it was our officiant who was strangled.”
Leatrice gasped. “Someone murdered a man of the cloth?”
“Technically our man of the cloth was a man dressed as a woman. Actually, a three-hundred-pound drag queen dressed like Cher.”
Leatrice’s brightly colored mouth fell open. “I know I haven’t been to church in a while, but they’ve sure changed it since my day.”
“Cher Noble wasn’t affiliated with a church. She got ordained over the internet to perform weddings in drag.”
Leatrice bobbed her head as she absorbed this. “And someone killed her at the wedding? Before or after the ceremony?”
“Before.” I took another bite of the savory noodles.
“So did you have to call off the wedding?” Leatrice asked.
I shook my head. “We called in a backup officiant and moved the entire event to the historic house next door.”
“Well aren’t you clever?” Leatrice grinned at me. “So no one was the wiser?”
