by Laura Durham
My fiancé put an arm around me. "You can't know that for sure, babe. No one saw her, and the only CCTV camera pointed in the direction of Kate's parked car is the one at the store across the street, and the manager said it wasn't recording."
I felt a fresh wave of frustration that I'd lost the chance to have a recording of our arch nemesis Brianna committing a crime. "Why have a camera if you don't turn it on?"
"Deterrence," Reese said, giving me a squeeze.
Richard returned carrying a final plate. "Speaking of deterrence, I don't suppose this little incident has convinced you to leave well enough alone?"
"This had nothing to do with the investigation into Kris Kringle Jingle's disappearance," I said. "This is 100 percent Brianna. She's the one who called me and made the threat, and she's the one who popped Kate's tires."
Richard shrugged as he set the final plate on the table and whipped off the oven mitts. "Maybe. Maybe not. You can't tell me it's another wild coincidence that someone goes missing at the same time you and Kate are sent a very clear message."
"Of course I can. The message is don't work with brides who fire Brianna. If I followed your logic, we shouldn't have taken the New Year's Eve wedding, which we are now in the position to ask you to cater. You still think I should leave well enough alone? Maybe tell the client to find someone else? Another planner who doesn't use Richard Gerard Catering, perhaps?"
Richard's mouth dangled open. "I hadn't thought of it from that angle." He sniffed and smoothed down the front of his apron. "You know I'd never advise you to abandon a client, darling."
I gave him a pointed look. "What about the threats and sabotage?"
He straightened his shoulders. "We must soldier on, of course. We can't let some upstart like Brianna interfere in our work, especially when we only have a couple of weeks to pull it all together." He waved a hand at the table. "Sit, sit. I'll get the wine."
"Well played," Reese whispered as we took our seats at the table.
"I know his pressure points," I said, keeping my voice low. "He can't stand the thought of not being part of a big event. He might take a bullet himself if it means a big enough check and a magazine feature."
Richard returned with a bottle of cold Chardonnay, which he handed off to Reese. "You're absolutely sure the tire slasher couldn't have been connected to the Kris Kringle case?"
"How could they be?" I asked as my fiancé poured the wine. "Kate hasn't been involved so far and neither has her car. But Brianna knows the kind of car Kate drives, and she made a threat. Besides, we don't know what happened to Kris."
"Whatever it was, it wasn't good," muttered Richard.
I sighed with a bite of fish halfway to my mouth. He was right about that. "So there's no proof Brianna popped Kate's tires, and we don't know who killed Kris or why."
Reese raised an eyebrow and swallowed a mouthful. "We?"
"Yes, Annabelle." In Richard's case, both eyebrows were raised. "What do you mean we?"
"Nothing," I said, focusing on my plate.
Reese put one hand over mine. "Why don't we make a deal? I know you're physically incapable of letting things go." He held up a hand when I started to protest. "Babe, I know you. You can't not try to fix things. It's in your DNA. It's one of the maddeningly charming things I love about you."
"Maddening is right," Richard mumbled, ignoring the look I shot him.
"If I promise to keep you looped into the case the entire way--which I'm not supposed to be doing with a civilian, by the way--will you promise not to interfere?" Reese asked.
"You'd have better luck tying her up and keeping her in a closet until you've found Kris," Richard said, again avoiding my eyes.
"I can do that," I said, shooting daggers at Richard and smiling sweetly at my fiancé. "As long as I can tell Fern and Buster and Mack that you're doing everything you can to find Kris."
"Trust me, babe. I want to find him alive as much as anyone. He's a Georgetown institution. The holidays aren't going to feel the same without him."
My throat tightened, and I reached for my wine. "If the temperature doesn't drop, it will feel like Christmas in the Sahara."
A few file folders sat stacked by Richard's plate, and he tapped them with a finger. "Speaking of our unfortunately themed wedding this weekend, I know I'm only doing the rehearsal dinner," he let out a tortured sigh, "but I'm going to have to rework this après ski motif."
"You know I can't stop clients from having hotel weddings," I said, for the umpteenth time. "The bride's family loves the Four Seasons. Just be glad I talked them out of having the entire weekend there. Plus, their rehearsal dinner is more elaborate than some weddings."
"Yes, but it isn't the event that gets top billing, is it?"
I shook my head. "When you say rework, what do you mean? The menu cards are already printed."
"I've resigned myself to the ridiculousness of our cheese fondue station and apple cider shooters in eighty-degree weather, but I cannot have my waiters walking around in alpine sweaters. I know it was my idea to make them look more festive, but that was when I thought it would be chilly. Now we're going to be able to use the outdoor space, and I do not want waiters dropping from heatstroke in December."
"That's fine," I said. "Have them wear tuxes."
Richard made a face. "I'm sure I can come up with something a bit more special than tuxedos, darling."
"I still have to decide if we should scrap the hot cocoa station at the valet station on Saturday night," I said. "We already have the cardboard cuffs for the to-go cups embossed with icicles, but I can't imagine people will be lining up for a hot drink when it feels like summer."
"Put it inside and crank up the AC," Reese said. "Can't you get a fake snow machine to pump out some snow? People would go for it if they got snowed on at the same time."
Richard gaped at him. "You know, that's not a bad idea." He nudged me. "You didn't tell me he has an instinct for events."
"Detectives do have problem-solving skills," Reese said.
I noticed Richard studying my fiancé and leveled a finger at him. "Don't even think about it."
"What?" Richard widened his eyes and attempted to look innocent.
"You know what," I told him. "You're scheming to think of ways you can put him to work for you."
"Nonsense," Richard said. "But if he happens to be around when we discuss our events, far be it from me to stop him from sharing his ideas."
"Be careful you don't end up on his payroll," I said to Reese. "Or serving apple cider shooters in an alpine sweater."
"Don't be silly, darling." Richard laughed, before cutting his eyes to Reese. "Although he would look good in a sweater, and you know I like my servers to be attractive."
Reese had ping-ponged his head back and forth without saying a word. Finally, he swallowed and shook his head. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm happy on the force, and frankly, I think it's less stressful than wedding planning or catering."
"Isn't that the truth?" Richard said, draining his glass of wine.
My fiancé's phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pants pocket, looking down at the screen and frowning. "Hobbes just responded to an anonymous call and found an apartment filled with stolen electronics."
I swallowed a bite and dabbed my lips with my napkin. "That's a good thing, right?"
"Sure." Reese absently scratched the stubble on his chin. "But the guys who apparently lived there and stole everything were tied up with Christmas tree garland and wearing Santa hats."
Richard raised his wine glass. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, the holidays make people crazy."
Chapter 13
“That was the third bellman that's laughed at our welcome bags," Kate said as she slid into the passenger seat of my car.
I'd idled in front of the Georgetown Inn with my flashers on while she'd run inside the redbrick hotel with two armloads of ice-blue bags embossed with shiny silver icicles. Even the tissue paper was iridesce
nt silver and the name tags were white snowflakes.
"Ignore them," I said, turning off my flashers and pulling back into traffic. "How could we know we'd get a heat wave when we ordered everything?"
Kate swiped a hand across her forehead and leaned one arm out the window. "Heat wave is right. This is ridiculous. I was so excited for boot weather, and I really should be pulling out my flip-flops."
I couldn't argue with her as I let the breeze from the open car window hit my face. I was wearing a sleeveless red plaid dress I usually paired with a turtleneck, but now wore solo. "We can only hope the weather turns, and everyone who laughed at us will be eating crow."
"Fried crow," Kate said under her breath as she fanned herself. "You know, I much prefer being the wheelman than being the delivery girl."
"Sorry," I said, although I was not sorry Kate wasn't behind the wheel of my car. "Any word on the new tires?"
"What's there to say about tires, except for the fact that they're now my Christmas gift to myself?" She shook her head. "I can't believe Reese couldn't fingerprint the ones that were popped."
"I doubt the person touched them when they did it," I said. "Plus, if Brianna did do it, I don't think she's in the system."
Kate snorted. "Don't be so sure." She glanced over at me as I headed out of Georgetown, passing the harbor and going underneath the highway. "Where are we going now? We're out of welcome bags and hotels to deliver them to."
I stopped at the red light at the top of K Street. "Autoshop. I thought we should do a walk-through before we have the clients sign the contract."
"So we're actually spending the whole day doing wedding work?" Kate gave me an approving look as she nodded slowly. "I'm a little surprised."
"What else would we be doing?" I asked, gunning the engine as the light turned green.
"Oh, I don't know. Poking around in your fiancé's case, organizing a secret search party for Kris Kringle Jingle, having Leatrice hack into the police computers to check on the case's progress. You know, the usual."
"Very funny." I breathed in the smell of exhaust and food trucks as we headed down K Street. "Even if I did want to do those things, I've been threatened under pain of death by Richard. Reese and his guys are still searching for Kris and questioning the Salvation Army bell ringers, and he promised to let me know as soon as they find anything, although he's now also working on the case of the burglars who were tied up and wearing Santa hats."
"That is weird, but I'll bet some of their criminal buddies turned them in and decided to get creative with it. There's no honor among thieves, but there might be a sense of humor."
"At least it closes some of the robbery cases Reese was working on. Apparently, the thieves had hit a bunch of Georgetown houses in the past month."
"So now they're trying to find out who turned them in?" Kate asked.
"Yes, but more to thank whomever did it. Reese is still focused on finding Kris."
"What do you think the chances are they're going to find him alive?" Kate asked.
"You never know. As long as they don't have a body, there's a chance he survived whatever happened to him." I repeated Reese's words, although I suspected I believed them about as much as he did.
"It's pretty weird there was no body. I mean, we've been involved in more than our fair share of murder investigations, and never have we just found bloody clothes."
She made a good point.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. "Which means there's a chance it wasn't a murder and Kris ditched the Santa suit after being wounded."
"Or someone took it off him and dumped the body where it wouldn't be found," Kate said.
A less pleasant option.
"Either way," I said, "Reese is on the case. Not to mention Buster and Mack and their homeless crew. When we left them yesterday, they were heading out to sweep the area again. If anyone knows places to stash a body, it's the people who know the streets."
"Although if it was another homeless person or Salvation Army Santa, they’d know all the spots, too.”
“Hmm.” I hadn’t thought about that. Our only suspects were other people who knew the streets.
Kate gave me a side-eye look. “I'm glad to see you taking a back seat on this one. If you really want to solve something, you should focus on proving that Brianna popped my tires."
I entered a busy traffic circle and exited onto Massachusetts Avenue. "We both know it was her even if we can't prove it. Who else would do something like that?"
Kate held her hands palm up. "And what did I ever do to her?"
I cut my eyes to my assistant. "You mean, aside from spread the rumor that her business is a front for a prostitution ring?"
She shook a finger at me. "I only did that after she told everyone that we were murder magnets."
To be fair, saying we were murder magnets wasn't totally off base. It wasn't nice, but it wasn't completely wrong.
"I'm not thrilled that she's escalated from trash talking to vandalism," I said. "But she seems to think everything we do is a personal attack on her."
"We didn't even know she was the planner the New Year's Eve client had fired," Kate said. "Maybe she should focus on being a better planner instead of lashing out at the rest of us."
"I wonder if they have a greeting card for that."
"A greeting card is not what I was thinking of sending her," Kate muttered. "More like the bill for my tires."
I was glad it was December, and Kate would be getting her holiday bonus from me soon. After last night, I knew what it would be going toward. "Are we doing a holiday party for the gang this year? I know it's kind of crazy right now, but we always do something."
Kate twisted in her seat to face me. "I meant to ask you, how do you feel about combining your engagement party with the Wedding Belles holiday party?”
"Since I wasn't the one who wanted an engagement party in the first place, I'm fine with anything." I smiled at the idea. "Actually, I think it's great. It will make it less like an engagement party."
Kate let out a long breath. "You have to have an engagement party, Annabelle. You're a wedding planner. This is your business. How are we supposed to convince our clients they need all these fabulous things for their weddings if you and Reese run off to the courthouse?"
"We're hardly running off to the courthouse," I said, sighing almost as loudly as she had. "We just haven't had time to focus on planning yet."
"Which is why I took over and became your official wedding planner, but it would be helpful to get some feedback." She held up two fingers. "I'm this close to booking bride and groom llamas for your cocktail hour."
I laughed. "You know how Richard gets about livestock at events. I do not want to see him running around with a pooper scooper and rubber gloves again."
"Okay, that's a no on the llamas."
"But a yes to the holiday party/engagement party mash-up," I reminded her. "Most of our guests would have been at both anyway. The only difference this time will be the addition of Reese's cop buddies. It will be like a Wedding Belles holiday party that's being raided."
Kate snapped her fingers. "And there's our theme!"
Before I could tell her the many reasons why that was not a great engagement party theme, I spotted a woman with a long white braid hurrying across the street, an overstuffed IKEA bag hanging off one shoulder. She disappeared into a brick building with large wooden doors.
I grabbed my phone from the center console and pressed one of my pre-programmed speed dial numbers.
"Annabelle, what a lovely surprise," Fern said when he answered.
"Quick question," I said. "What color hair does Jeannie have?"
"Jeannie? White. It's quite pretty, although it would look even better if she let me cut it and give her layers, but she's about as open to change with her hair as you are, sweetie. Why do you ask?"
"I'm assuming she didn't show up for her wash and style this morning?" I answered his question with one of my own.
I jerked my car to the curb in front of the building the woman had run into. "Because I'm pretty sure I just saw her halfway across town."
Chapter 14
“Whoa," Kate said as I hopped out of the car. "Where are you going? What happened to our site visit?"
I hitched my purse over my shoulder and looked up at the three-story brick building with tall windows lined up in a grid. "I just want to pop in here and see if the woman I saw was actually Jeannie."
Kate jumped out of the car on her side, slamming the door as she followed me. "I thought we weren't going to get involved with the case. I thought we were laser focused on our events."
I paused to let her catch up to me in her highheeled mules. "This isn't getting involved. This is doing a favor for Fern."
"Really?" Kate muttered as she wobbled up the steps toward the large double doors with an imposing brick and stone archway overhead that read "Gales School." "Because this feels an awful lot like getting involved."
I put a hand on the metal door handle as I read the sign printed on the glass--"Central Union Mission." "You know Fern is worried sick about Kris and Jeannie. If we can tell him that one of them is safe, wouldn't that be a good thing?"
"I feel like you're sneaking this through on a technicality, Annabelle, but I'll let it slide. But only if this is an in-and-out operation. If we end up cowering in a storage closet or rummaging through someone's office for evidence, I'm out of here, and I'm telling Richard."
I exhaled, shaking my head. "Since when are you on his side?"
"Since his side became the one where I don't get nearly arrested."
"Fine, but I'm telling you, this is perfectly innocent.” I peered through the glass top of the doors, seeing another set of doors and a wide hallway beyond that. "We look for Jeannie, maybe talk with her, and then we leave."
"So you say." She yanked open one of the doors and held it open for me.
