by Laura Durham
I had to admit that our plan to help Jimmy the Pencil blend in with the crowd may have backfired on us. “I guess if they look too stereotypical, they’re probably in costume. I don’t think members of the modern Mafia walk around in spats.”
“More’s the pity,” Fern said.
“Mob hit man or no Mob hit man,” Richard said, “I still have dinner service to worry about. Plus, I have to make sure PJ doesn’t get wind of this. I haven’t filled him in on how my best friend is a murder magnet.”
“He doesn’t know about any of it?” Kate’s mouth gaped. “Not even when you were a murder suspect?”
Richard shrugged. “He travels a lot.”
It wasn’t my place to judge relationships. I’d learned long ago that I was better at planning weddings than predicting the success of them. You never knew what magic ingredient made some couples stick together and why others flamed out, so who was I to say that Richard’s relationship was unusual? I’d met my fiancé when I’d tripped over a dead mother of the bride, so I tried not to throw stones from my glass house.
“Why don’t I go downstairs with Richard so he can touch base with the kitchen, and I can get Buster and Mack to help us?” I said, looking at the paramedics packing up to leave and Sidney Allen standing next to Leatrice. “Fern, can you keep the happy couple entertained until dinner? I don’t want Leatrice worrying or Sidney Allen passing out again.”
Fern gave me a sharp salute that seemed out of step with his priest’s cassock. “On it.”
“What do you want me to do?” Kate asked.
“You’re with me,” I said, waving for her to follow me down the stairs.
We descended to the lower level, passing through the offices and reaching the ballroom. Buster and Mack spritzed the centerpieces with water from plastic spray bottles while waiters filled water goblets. I expected to see my fiancé and his brother, as well as Hobbes and Jimmy the Pencil, but they weren’t there.
“Careful, people,” Richard said, clapping his hands loudly and making a few waiters jump. “These are not quick-dry linens, so no spilling.”
“Hey, guys,” I called to Buster and Mack. “Did you see where Reese and his brother went?”
“They would have been with Detective Hobbes and the gray-haired man in the double-breasted suit and fedora,” Kate added.
Mack paused his spraying. “Reese and Daniel were here, but they left right away.”
“Something about Jimmy being missing and Hobbes not answering his phone,” Buster said. “I assumed you knew.”
“That’s it,” Kate said, weaving her way through the clear reception chairs. “I’m getting my stun gun.”
Chapter 15
“I am not going to be happy with you if you stun me,” I said, looking over my shoulder as Kate followed me with her stun gun in one hand.
She gave the flashlight-cum-stun-gun a wave. “You’ll be happy when I fend off an armed attacker.”
I paused with my fingers on the handle of one of the French doors that led out to the lower patio. “We’re going to be circulating through what’s left of cocktail hour, so gun down.”
Kate grumbled but lowered her weapon. Apparently, my fiancé and his brother had left through these doors, so I figured following them was the quickest way to find them. We’d sent Buster and Mack outside to see if there was, indeed, a second hit man waiting in a getaway car. If anyone could intimidate a mobster, it would be them.
We left the ballroom and crossed the patio to a set of stone steps. A waiter descended with a silver tray of picked-over hors d’oeuvres, and Kate snagged him by the arm, plucking off a miniature quiche.
“Goat cheese,” she said, closing her eyes and sighing as she chewed. “You’ve got to try them.”
“We’re on a mission,” I said. “We don’t have time to eat.”
Kate threw her hands up. “We never get to eat. When we’re the wedding planners, we’re always too busy to eat until the food’s cold. Now that we’re actually bridesmaids, you still aren’t going to let me eat? Do you plan to starve me at your wedding too?”
I stopped and looked at her, then looked at the waiter shifting uncomfortably. I took a baby quiche and popped it into my mouth. Even though it was no longer hot, the crust was buttery and the goat cheese had a refreshing tang. Richard really did do pastry well.
“Happy?” I asked after I swallowed.
“Getting there.” Kate took the last quiche and the waiter moved away, no doubt grateful to get away from our spat. “So what’s the deal with your wedding? You’ve been engaged for months and haven’t started planning yet. I think you could get kicked out of the wedding planner’s alliance for something like that.”
“There’s no such thing as a wedding planner’s alliance,” I said as we started up the stairs. “And you know how busy we’ve been with summer weddings.”
Kate hiked her skirt up so she could take the steps two at a time. “But the season’s over, and it’s July. You should at least pick a date.”
When we reached the top of the steps, I surveyed the garden. Guests still mingled under the tree and near the bar, and more than one person stood dipping their hands into the clawfoot tub filled with rapidly melting ice. The swing ensemble played, the lead singer crooning into an old-fashioned microphone, but Jimmy the Pencil wasn’t with them.
Luckily, the sun had dipped below the tree line, so the heat was no longer so oppressive. I spotted Leatrice and Sidney Allen holding court on one of the vintage sofas on the lawn, and was pleased both looked like they were enjoying themselves. I wondered where Fern was since I didn’t notice his black cassock flapping in the breeze anywhere.
“Next summer,” I said after I failed to locate Reese or his brother.
“That’s vague,” Kate said.
“Well, not June, that’s for sure. We’re already booked for most of June. It will have to be one of the off-season months like July or August.”
“You know there’s a reason they’re off-season, right?” Kate asked as we made our way across the lawn toward the back door. “Might I remind you of the lovely weather in DC in July and August?”
“Who said I’m getting married in DC?”
Kate stumbled and caught herself on my arm. “Seriously? Are we talking a destination wedding, because I’ve got tons of ideas of amazing places for an island wedding? Or a Tuscan villa. Or maybe the coast of Spain. ”
“Who knows?” I shrugged. “I’m keeping my options open and letting the wind take me where it will.”
Kate eyed me. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. This is just your way of jerking me around, isn’t it? You haven’t given it any thought at all.”
I paused when we reached the door. “Right now I’m focused on making sure this wedding does not have a body count. Then I’ll think about my own wedding.”
Another waiter passed, and Kate lifted two glasses of champagne off his tray without him noticing. She pressed one in my hand. “That’s the problem. There’s always a reason why you can’t focus on yourself. If it isn’t Leatrice’s wedding, it will be someone else’s. Pretty soon we’ll start finalizing fall weddings, then it will be fall season, and then it’s the mad rush to the holidays. I know you’re used to keeping your nose to the grime stone, but when will it ever be your turn?”
“Grindstone,” I corrected her, cringing a little at the thought of a grime stone and having my nose figuratively pressed to it.
She let out an impatient sigh. “You know what I mean, Annabelle. You always know what I mean. And don’t try to change the subject. Why are you so scared to be the one getting married? Is it your absurd notion that you can’t be the one in the spotlight because you’re supposed to be the person taking care of everyone else?”
I took a gulp of champagne to wash away the lump that had formed in my throat. I hated how right she was and how well she knew me.
Kate tapped one toe on the patio. “Do you want to marry him?”
“What?” I nearly cho
ked on my champagne. “You know I do.”
“Then you’d better start acting like it. I know Reese adores you and is used to you being a crazy career girl, but you can’t always put him and your relationship second. Marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“When did you become an expert in marriage?” I asked, knowing she had never come even remotely close to being engaged or even very serious about the many men she dated.
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “We do work with people who’re getting married every single day. Plus, I watch a lot of the Oprah channel.”
“Do you think Reese is upset I haven’t started planning yet?” I asked, keeping my voice low as a pair of flappers walked by waving their long cigarette holders at us.
Kate tossed back the rest of her bubbly. “Lucky for you, he’s laid-back, but I think he probably expected his wedding planner fianceé to have done a little more planning at this point.”
The thought that I might have hurt his feelings made tears sting the backs of my eyes. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous and impractical. I know better than anyone that it takes a year to plan a DC wedding, even during an off month. And I do want to marry him sooner rather than later.”
“Of course you do. He’s a hunky cop who thinks your lack of cooking skill and aversion to housekeeping is cute. If it were me, I’d have eloped already before he came to his senses.”
I laughed. “Starting Monday, you’re in charge of my wedding planning.”
“Me?” Kate put a hand to her chest.
“Well, I’m not asking Fern or Richard. They’d give me anxiety attacks, and Fern would make me wear a dress covered in swan feathers. But I do need someone to light a fire under me.”
Kate threw an arm around my shoulder. “Consider me your personal fire starter. Of course, Fern might still try to cover you in swan feathers.”
I finished my champagne and handed the empty glass to a waiter I saw approaching from the corner of my eye.
Kate’s eyes grew wide. “Um, Annabelle. That’s not a waiter.”
I twisted slightly and found myself face-to-face with Richard’s significant other. “Oh my gosh.” I reached for the glass as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I saw your white dinner jacket and thought you were one of Richard’s waiters, even though they’re wearing white shirts and bistro aprons. Obviously, you don’t look like them. Your jacket’s much nicer. Not that the waiters don’t look nice. Please don’t tell Richard I said his waiters didn’t look nice.”
The man grinned at me. “You’re Annabelle.”
I nodded mutely, very aware that if I opened my mouth again, I might start babbling senselessly.
An actual waiter passed by, and PJ put my empty glass on his tray.
“I’m Kate.” Kate held out her hand as she shamelessly sized him up. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too.” PJ shook both of our hands. “Richard has told me all about both of you.”
“Really?” I wondered if that included his many opinions about my lack of style and Kate’s lack of modesty.
“He’s been pretty secretive about you.” Kate put a hand on his arm and leaned in. “Do you really work for the State Department?”
PJ nodded, running a hand through his sandy hair. “Guilty as charged.”
“What’s that like? Richard says you jet all over the world.” Kate gave him the smile she usually used to charm men into submission.
“Not as exciting as it sounds. Long flights. Even longer meetings.”
“I’ll bet,” Kate said.
I spotted Richard across the lawn and saw the moment that he located us. Even from fifty feet away, I could see him assess the situation and press his lips together in disapproval.
I pulled Kate away from PJ, giving him an apologetic smile. “We have to run check on things for dinner, but I hope we’ll see you later.”
Before he could respond or Kate could protest, I jerked her inside the house and closed the door behind us.
“That was a bit rude,” Kate said, wrenching her arm from my grasp.
“I was saving you,” I said. “Richard saw you in full-flirt mode.”
Kate’s cheeks flushed. “Oops. You know I have a hard time turning it off. I see a cute guy, and it’s automatic.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” It didn’t bother me when Kate smiled a little too brightly at my fiancé, but I knew Richard wasn’t so forgiving. “We also need to keep looking for Jimmy.”
The door to one of the nearby exhibit rooms opened and Fern emerged, his priest garb replaced by a white double-breasted suit with a black pinstripe. His black fedora was pulled down at an angle. So much for resuming our search posthaste.
“What happened to Father Fern?” Kate asked.
“He was wilting,” Fern said. “All black in this heat? Girl, please.” He glanced at my hair. “Where are you two off to? I don’t suppose you’d let me refresh your hair?”
“Refresh my hair?” I asked. “I’m afraid to ask what that entails.”
He fluttered a hand at my head. “Take out the hat, add more butterflies, maybe a baby bluebird.”
“Hard pass,” I said. “We’re actually looking for Reese and his brother, who were looking for Detective Hobbes and Jimmy.”
“I don’t know about your hottie cop, but I did see Jimmy heading upstairs with someone.”
I exchanged a quick look with Kate. “Was the someone Hobbes?”
Fern pursed his lips. “Which one is Hobbes?”
“A little pudgy with light hair,” I said. “He’s dating Alexandra.”
His face remained blank.
“He’s got the comb-over you’re always dying to fix,” Kate added.
“Yes!” Fern snapped his fingers. “I know who you mean now.”
“So was it him with Jimmy?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. This guy was younger with better hair.”
I knew Fern hadn’t seen the Mob hit man who’d been in Leatrice’s apartment, so I didn’t bother asking. “They went upstairs? Was Jimmy being dragged?”
Fern shook his head. “He and the other guy looked as thick as thieves.” He waved for us to follow him back inside. “Come on. I’ll show you where I saw them last.”
Kate looked at me. “If Jimmy went willingly, do you think that means he’s been scamming us this entire time?”
“You mean being a Trojan horse to get close to Leatrice?” My heart beat faster. “If that’s the case, get ready to light him up too.”
Kate held her stun gun higher. “Gladly.”
“Should we bring backup?” I asked, wishing for a hundredth time that day that my dress had a pocket for my phone so I could call Reese. “If Jimmy’s a bad guy, it will be two of them against three of us, and only one of us is armed.”
Kate waved her stun gun. “This is our backup. Besides, we have no idea where your fiancé and Daniel ran off to.”
I knew she was right, but also held out hope that the two men were currently searching the second floor. We started up the stairs. The period oil paintings on the walls of the staircase landing gave way to bright-white walls at the top, and I remembered that the interactive historical exhibits were on the second floor.
Fern paused before proceeding up the rest of the stairs. “The last place I saw them was on this landing heading up.”
“Why would they have come up here?” I whispered as we walked the rest of the way. The space felt deserted since guests were not usually allowed on this floor during weddings.
“Maybe because no one is up here?” Kate whispered back.
All four doors off the landing were closed, and I crooked a finger for Kate and Fern to follow me as I peeked into the one closest to us. The room was light and airy with one curved wall that overlooked the front lawn. Framed art hung on the wall, and a pair of white screens stood in the center of the room covered with more images.
I shook my head and pulled the door closed as quietly as I cou
ld. Fern was already opening the door across the hall, so Kate and I shuffled behind him. This room was actually a narrow hallway with a black-and-white checkered floor that led into another small room.
Fern peeked his head through the doorframe and sucked in air.
“I was hoping you’d join us,” the man said.
Over Fern’s shoulder, I saw Jimmy the Pencil standing next to a broad-shouldered man. Kate stiffened next to me. Although he looked different standing up as opposed to lying sprawled on the floor, there was no doubt who it was.
Not only had we found Jimmy, we’d found the hit man who was looking for him.
Chapter 16
“Don’t think I won’t stun you again,” Kate said, holding her weapon out.
The man pulled a gun from a holster under his jacket. “I’m sure you’ll try.”
Fern squeaked and tried to back out, treading on my toes in the process. I winced and wished I’d changed out of the strappy, high-heeled sandals I’d worn for the ceremony.
“Where did you get that?” Kate asked, staring at the gun. “You didn’t have it earlier.”
“My associate usually carries the weapons. Now, please.” The man waved us in with his gun. “I insist. We have lots to discuss.”
I reluctantly entered the small room, made even smaller by the wall of gray fabric that covered the window. To one side of the two men was a tall Plexiglas display that held blueprints that were clearly part of the exhibit. Aside from that, and two panels of wall text, the room was bare and smelled slightly of old books. I didn’t see any associate, which made me wonder if even more mobsters were wandering around the wedding.
“Are you okay, Jimmy?” I asked the older man.
“I think so,” he said. “I don’t know why I’m up here though.”
“‘Course he’s okay,” the other man clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t hurt my own uncle.”
“So you are his nephew,” I said, although knowing the two men were technically related didn’t make me feel much better.
