Mandy was a girl we'd both recently met while she'd been working as a hostess at a nearby restaurant. She was in her early twenties and in that phase of still trying to "figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up." She also went to the local community college part time, so she was always looking for a little extra work to help pay for books and classes.
"You sure you wouldn't mind?" I asked, actually grateful for the company.
She shook her head and sent me a wide smile. "Call it repayment for brunch."
"Sold!"
* * *
We decided to take my Jeep into town, and twenty minutes later we pulled up to the Belle Inn Bed & Breakfast once again. Luckily there was a spot on the street just in front of the building, and as I beeped my car locked and we walked up the front pathway, I noticed a familiar figure sitting on the big wraparound porch.
Natalie Weisman was perched on a wooden swing that hung from chain links just to the right of the front door. She was dressed in leggings and a crimson sweater dress, and her legs dangled as she swayed back and forth. In one hand she held a mimosa and in the other her ever-present phone.
Recognition lit her eyes as she saw us approach, and she waved her drink by way of greeting. "Hey, Wedding Coordinator, right?"
"Emmy," I supplied, climbing up the steps to meet her. "And my friend, Ava Barnett."
Natalie nodded in Ava's direction. "Right. I remember."
"We're so sorry for your loss," Ava told her.
For a second she gave us a blank look, like she couldn't remember what loss we might be talking about. Then her eyes quickly hit the ground. "Right. Yeah. Everyone's real sorry."
It might have been my imagination, but I could swear that last part was mumbled with a hint of sarcasm.
"You and Freddie must have been close," I said, trying to keep my voice sympathetic, even though Natalie didn't strike me as looking like she was overcome with grief.
A feeling that was compounded as Natalie let out a bark of laughter, bordering on a smirk. "Sure, you could say that. We were real close."
Ava's eyes cut to mine, the look in them saying she thought the same thing of Natalie's brand of mourning.
"Uh, how is Juliet?" I asked, switching gears.
Natalie shook her head. "How should I know? The Somersbys have holed themselves up in their rooms, as if they have some monopoly on grief."
"Juliet was about to be Freddie's wife," I pointed out softly.
"Well, she wasn't yet, was she?" Natalie shot back. "His wife. I mean, how do we know he even would have gone through with it, huh?"
I shot Ava a look again before I asked Natalie, "You think Freddie might not have gone through with the ceremony?"
Natalie shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not."
"Did he say anything to you like that?" Ava cut in. "Like maybe he was having second thoughts?"
"No," she admitted. "But, I mean, Jules is cute and all, but she's kind of boring. I doubt she would have held Freddie's attention for long."
Ouch. Harsh words from the bridesmaid.
"So, you're saying Freddie might have put his attention elsewhere?" Ava asked, and I could feel her thinking of the lady in red Freddie had been seen with.
"What?" Natalie looked up, and something flittered behind her eyes. As if maybe she'd just realized she wasn't painting her cousin in the best of lights.
"I remember you mentioned a couple times at the rehearsal, your surprise at Freddie settling down," I jumped in. "Why is that?"
"Well, I mean, come on. This is Freddie we're talking about."
"Meaning?" Ava asked.
"Women loved Freddie."
"Any women in particular?" Ava pressed.
But Natalie shook her head. "No. I mean…that's not what I meant. He was just…charming."
I'd heard that adjective applied to him a few times in the last couple of days.
"I'm curious," I said, switching gears, "how come you were the only family member Freddie invited to his wedding?"
"Was I?" Natalie's eyes went to the silent phone in her hands. "I guess we're not a close family."
"What about you and Freddie?" I asked again. "I heard you fought."
Her eyes snapped up again. "Who told you that?"
I licked my lips, not sure I wanted to divulge my sources. There was something hard and slightly menacing about Natalie Weisman. Honestly? I could easily see her bashing someone over the head with a champagne bottle if they crossed her.
"I, uh, can't remember," I said lamely.
She narrowed her eyes at me, accentuating the dark eye makeup surrounding them. "I bet it was that Somersby," she spat out.
Oops. Had I given it away?
"Wh-what makes you say that?" I asked, trying not to look guilty as I snuck a glance at Ava again.
"That guy had it out for Freddie. Did you know he hired a private investigator to follow Freddie?"
No, I hadn't, and the shock must have shown on my face as she nodded emphatically. "It's true," she continued. "Crazy, right? I mean, who does that?"
"What do you think he was looking for?" Ava asked.
"Beats me." Natalie put her cocktail to her lips, sipping noisily.
"How did you find out about this PI?" I asked.
Natalie snorted as she swallowed. "Well, let's just say he wasn't a very good PI. I caught his clunker following us around Atherton just before we left for the wedding. He couldn't have been more obvious."
"And you confronted him?"
"Freddie did," Natalie said. "Was pretty upset about it too."
"And the PI told him that Edward Somersby hired him?" Ava asked.
Before answering, Natalie drained her cocktail and then stooped down to set the empty glass on the ground at her feet. "Not in so many words. Claimed some sort of client confidentiality or something. But it didn't take a genius to figure it out. I mean, Somersby pretended to be all civil when his daughter was around, but we all know how he really felt about Freddie."
"And how is that?" I asked, even though I already had a pretty good idea.
"He couldn't stand him. Didn't think he was good enough for Juliet. Please!" She blew out a puff of air. "As if anyone could ever be good enough for Saint Juliet."
"You don't sound like you and Juliet were that close either," Ava pointed out.
Natalie's gaze went to my friend. "Look, I've got nothing against the girl. I just don't think the world revolves around her, you know?"
I was pretty sure Juliet didn't think that either. Narcissists usually weren't known for philanthropy. And in Juliet's defense, it had been her wedding day. Wasn't that the one time the world was supposed to revolve around the bride?
But I kept those thoughts to myself, instead nodding my understanding as Natalie continued.
"Anyway, I'll just be glad when I can be done with the lot of them. Juliet, that lapdog Andrew, and her better-than-thou parents." She paused. "I've been cooped up here for two days with them, and the police won't let us leave yet."
I bit my lip. "Did they say why they wanted you to stay?"
She smirked again. "Sure, they're looking at us all as potential suspects—taking our fingerprints, probing for motives, checking out alibis." It was said as a joke, but I had a feeling it was actually pretty close to the truth.
"What did you tell them?" Ava asked. "I mean, when they asked for your alibi?"
If Natalie was insulted, she didn't show it, instead just shrugging as she glanced at her silent phone. "Same thing we all did, I imagine. I mean, everyone was all over the place that morning. It was kind of chaos." She glanced up at me and gave me a sarcastic grin. "No offense, Wedding Organizer."
I gave her a pleasant if slightly forced smile back. "None taken. We're actually here to discuss some wedding business with Mr. Somersby. Do you know if he's inside?"
"Do I look like his keeper?" she asked, swiping her phone on and turning her attention to it as a clear signal she was done talking to us.
"Well, pleas
e pass along our condolences to your aunt and uncle," I told her.
She glanced up at me. "Huh?"
"Freddie's parents?" I said.
"Oh, sure. Yeah," she said vaguely, going back to her phone.
CHAPTER NINE
"A private eye?" Ava mumbled beside me as we pushed through the B&B's front door. "Wow. Mr. Somersby really didn't trust Freddie, huh?"
"Apparently not," I agreed, keeping my voice soft until the doors closed behind us. Even though Natalie seemed to be paying us no attention whatsoever now.
"What do you think he was after?" Ava asked.
"I don't know." I paused. "But I think I can guess."
"Freddie was cheating, and Daddy wanted proof?"
"It's possible," I said, even though I still hoped for Juliet's sake it wasn't true.
"Do you think the PI found that proof?"
"I don't know," I replied. "If he had, I can't imagine Edward not telling his daughter. She was minutes from marrying Freddie."
"Yeah, if Freddie hadn't turned up dead." Ava shot me a meaningful look.
"You think Edward killed Freddie because he was cheating on Juliet?" I asked, feeling it kind of farfetched, especially if he was in possession of proof of Freddie's infidelities that he could easily show his daughter.
"Maybe," Ava said, though I could hear hesitation in her voice telling me she was thinking along the same lines I was. "But what if it wasn't proof of cheating that the PI found? What if it was something worse?"
"Worse?" I asked. "Like what?"
Ava shrugged. "Something so bad that Edward killed Freddie to spare his daughter the knowledge."
"That would have to be pretty bad."
"Parents have done crazier things to protect their children."
I contemplated that idea as we approached the reception desk, where the same young brunette with a face full of freckles greeted us. I noticed her wearing a name tag today that read Sam.
"Welcome to the Belle Inn. May I help you?" the woman asked.
"Could you let Edward Somersby know we're here to speak with him again?" Ava asked, giving the woman our names.
"Of course. One moment please," Sam said. I watched her open a ledger book, scrolling her finger down the page until she found the right room number. Then she picked up an old-style cordless phone and rang the room. A moment later, we listened to her leave a short voicemail message with our names and the time and hung up.
"I'm sorry, but no one appears to be picking up."
I had a brief thought that maybe Somersby was avoiding us before Sam continued. "But, I believe I saw his wife go out to the back garden just a few moments ago," she said, pointing down a narrow hallway to our left. "Perhaps you could inquire with her?"
We thanked her and followed the hallway she'd indicated to a pair of French doors that led to a garden fenced in on all sides. Dormant rose bushes, fruit trees, and a few irises just starting to peek their heads out for spring flanked a small stone patio, creating a little oasis in the heart of downtown. While the sun was shining, there was still a nip in the late winter air, causing me to wish I'd brought a jacket.
We found Meredith Somersby seated at a pewter table in the center of the stone patio. Steam rose from a paper cup in her hands, and she was wearing an ivory blouse paired with a sunny yellow cardigan whose cheery color was a stark contrast to the defeated look on her face. She glanced up at us from beneath limp blonde hair as we approached. While her makeup looked just as put together as the last time I'd seen her, the cool complacency had vanished, and in its place were puffy half circles under her watery eyes.
"Good morning, Mrs. Somersby," I said softly as we reached her table.
Meredith set her cup down and straightened her posture, as if to compose herself. "Hello, Miss Oak," she replied. She forced a smile, even though her voice sounded tired.
"I was hoping to speak with your husband," I told her, feeling like a complete heel for bringing up money matters at a time like this.
"Oh?" she said vaguely.
"Uh, there is a small accounting matter I wanted to discuss with him," I said. I pursed my lips, internally cringing at how sexist the words sounded coming from my mouth. Clearly Mr. Somersby wasn't the only member of the couple with access to their bank accounts. However, seeing how fragile Meredith looked, I didn't have the heart to beg her to write a check.
But if it hit her the wrong way, she didn't indicate it. "Oh, I see," she said in the same vague voice that showed no interest in what I was saying. "Well, I'm afraid he's not here."
I almost felt relief at being forced to put off the unpleasant task a bit longer. "Do you know when he'll be back?" I asked, hugging my arms around myself to keep warm.
She shook her head, and her eyes seemed to water more. "No, he…" Her voice caught, and she had to pause a moment to compose herself again. "He went with Juliet to the police station."
"Police station?" Ava let out beside me, the surprise in her voice mirroring my thoughts.
She nodded, sniffing loudly. "That homicide detective requested that Juliet come in to answer some more questions."
I thought a dirty word. If Grant had brought her in for more questioning, that wasn't a good sign.
Ava walked around the pewter table and sat in the empty chair beside Meredith, putting a comforting hand on her back. "I'm sure it's just routine," she said. "Right, Emmy?"
I nodded as I sank into another empty chair opposite the two. "Right. Detective Grant is very…thorough." Which I felt was a generous adjective, given the several other choices that were running through my head as I wondered just what he might be asking of poor Juliet at that moment.
"I'm sure he'll get to the bottom of what happened to your daughter's fiancé, and then she can finally have some peace," Ava added.
Meredith nodded. "I hope you're right." She took a deep breath. "Poor Juliet is so broken up about Freddie's death. This morning she even took off her engagement ring because she couldn't even look at the thing without bursting into tears."
My heart ached for the girl. "I'm so sorry you are all going through this," I told her honestly.
Meredith nodded again, putting her tea to her lips and taking a fortifying sip. "Thank you. And I appreciate the comforting words." She nodded toward Ava. "But I fear that detective has the wrong idea about Juliet."
I feared that too, but the last thing I wanted to do was add to Mrs. Somersby's emotional state. "Oh?" was the best I could come up with in the reply department.
She nodded, her eyes coming up to meet mine. "Before they went to the station, he was asking her about other women in Freddie's life."
I pursed my lips, itching to ask much the same question. "I'm assuming there weren't any. I mean, any who stood out as close to Freddie?" I watched her reaction carefully.
But if Meredith had any qualms about Freddie's fidelity, she didn't show it. Instead, she shook her head, her hair skimming the top of her shoulders. "No. Of course not. I mean, he was devoted to Juliet. Absolutely devoted."
Ava and I shared a look. It appeared that being blind to Freddie's wandering eye ran in the family. At least among the female members.
"I know Juliet was devoted to him," I said, choosing my words carefully. "Are you sure it was a two way street?"
Something in Meredith's face changed, her jaw working back and forth as she swallowed hard. "You've been talking to my husband, haven't you?"
While I had, it wasn't solely his opinion I was going on. But I nodded, hoping to entice her to go on.
"Edward is overprotective," Meredith stated. "He's always been like that. He didn't approve of Juliet's last boyfriend either."
"Oh?" A tidbit of info I already knew, but I just continued nodding.
"No, he didn't think he was good enough for Juliet. So it was no surprise he didn't like Freddie either. I doubt any man would live up to Edward's expectations when it comes to his daughter."
"But Freddie was falling especially short, wasn't he?" Ava aske
d.
Meredith shifted her gaze to my friend. "I suppose," she conceded. "But Freddie loved Juliet. I could tell. This was just Edward being overly skeptical."
"Was there something in particular Edward was skeptical about when it came to Freddie?" I asked, feeling the chill start to travel from my skin to somewhere deeper in my bones the longer I sat on the cool metal chair.
A frown formed between Meredith's well plucked brows. "What do you mean?"
"Well…" I looked to Ava, wondering how much I should say about our conversation with Natalie. "I heard Edward hired a private investigator to follow Freddie."
Meredith's cheeks flushed. She dropped her gaze to the table and took a slow sip of her tea. "He did," she admitted finally, setting the cup back down with an unsteady hand. "Some investigator in The City."
"Do you know why?" I asked.
She sucked in a long breath before meeting my gaze. "I told you. Edward was overprotective."
"Does that mean the private investigator didn't find anything?" Ava pressed.
Meredith looked down into her teacup again. "No. Of course he didn't. That man didn't find even so much as a parking ticket."
"You met with the PI?" I clarified.
"W-well no. Edward told me about it. After the fact. And he assured me the man found nothing."
While I had no doubt Meredith was telling the truth about what her husband had conveyed, I wasn't totally convinced that Edward was 100% forthcoming. With me or his wife. If Edward had found something worth killing Freddie over, chances are he'd want to protect his wife from it just as much as his daughter. Considering he'd fibbed about his whereabouts leading up to the discovery of Freddie's body, I took anything from his mouth with a grain of salt.
"Do you happen to have the contact information for that investigator?" Ava asked, her mind clearly going where mine was.
Meredith blinked at her in surprise. Then her eyes narrowed. "What for?" she asked, her gaze pinging from Ava to me. "I already told you that he didn't find anything on Freddie. Don't you believe me?"
"Of course we do," I said quickly, giving her what I hoped was a trusting look.
"Uh, it's for me," Ava said. "I mean, I might want to hire him."
Marriage, Merlot & Murder (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 4) Page 9
