Eat, Prey, Love

by Laura Durham

  I’d known people with manic tendencies before, and they could be very good at hiding their pain. I felt a twinge of sadness for this woman I’d never known. It sounded to me like she’d been taken advantage of by a group of thoughtless people. Of course, all those thoughtless people were now dead, and unless I was very mistaken, someone was getting revenge for Marilyn.

  “Are you sure there aren’t any of her other friends on this trip?” I asked.

  Grace hiccupped and put her fingers to her lips. “Not that I know of.”

  “Carol Ann wasn’t friendly with her?”

  “If they were, they didn’t pal around at Inspire.”

  I sat back against the couch cushions. Would Carol Ann kill three people to take revenge for a woman she wasn’t close with? It seemed like a stretch. A thought occurred to me.

  “Was she a member of the Editor’s Circle?” I asked.

  “Carol Ann?” Grace looked at me funny. “Of course.”

  I waved my hands. “Not Carol Ann. Marilyn.”

  Grace pressed her lips together while she thought. “Come to think of it, she was. Not for long if I remember correctly, though.”

  Before I could ask her how well Cliff and Ted knew Marilyn, the music intensified and a murmur passed through the crowd. I twisted to see a procession approaching from the beach. Balinese men in white Nehru jackets carried two wooden litters—one held a beautiful woman in an elaborate gold headdress and matching collar over her colorful dress, and the other held a man wearing a burgundy-and-gold hat and an outfit as brightly patterned as his counterpart’s.

  “This must be the Balinese wedding ceremony,” Alan said, sitting up to get a better look.

  Grace had risen from the couch, her phone held up to record the dramatic entrance, and she took a few steps closer to the action. So much for getting more information from her now.

  “Can I talk to you?” The voice barely reached my ears over the loud music.

  I turned to see Carol Ann standing behind the sofa holding a drink, her eyes darting around the lawn. Kate and Fern had run up close to the processional and Alan was standing and clapping along to the music, so no one noticed as I got up and walked around to join Carol Ann.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” I said, bending close to her ear so she could hear me.

  “I needed to talk to you,” she said. “I’m not sure what I should do.”

  “About what?”

  “I know you think I had something to do with the murders.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Because I arranged to get all the victims on the guest list, right?”

  “Something like that,” I said, not sure where this conversation was going but wishing I wasn’t the only person hearing it.

  “Well, you’re wrong. I didn’t put the victims on the list.” She ran her eyes over the crowd and raised her pineapple cocktail to her lips.

  I caught her wrist before she took a sip, knocking the drink to the ground. She wrenched her arm away from me and jumped back. “What are you doing?”

  I pointed to the overturned fruit, its contents leaking into the grass at our feet. “The inside of the pineapple is black.”

  Carol Ann’s mouth opened and closed again as my words sank in.

  I knelt down and picked up the pineapple by the bumpy green skin. The yellow inside of the fruit had turned black around the edges, almost like it had been burned. “It looks like someone tried to make you the next victim.”

  Chapter 29

  Carol Ann’s head swung wildly from side to side as she backed away from me. If this was an act to convince me that she wasn’t the killer, it was very effective.

  “What were you going to tell me?” I asked over the loud music. The processional had reached the stage and the Balinese bride and groom were being lowered to the ground.

  She raised a hand to her throat and gaped at the pineapple in my hands. “My drink was poisoned?”

  I peered into the hollowed-out fruit, its pale-yellow flesh dark on the inside. “I don’t know for certain, but whatever was in your cocktail was toxic enough to turn the pineapple. We can have the police take it and test it to be sure.”

  She didn’t seem to be listening to me as her eyes darted over the lawn. The Balinese processional made its way to the stage, the bride and groom taking their seats on the ornately carved wooden chairs in the center and the attendants in colorful costumes fanning out on either side. The music changed and the female attendants went out into the crowd, pulling guests up to dance.

  Fern ran up to me. “Isn’t this spectacular? I’m not sure which outfit I love more—the bride’s or the groom’s. Which do you think would look better on me, Annabelle?” He took a breath as he noticed me holding the empty pineapple out to Carol Ann and her stricken expression. “Is everything okay?”

  “Someone’s trying to kill me.” Carol Ann’s voice sounded shaky.

  “I think we all feel that way, don’t we?” Fern put an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe you should sit down for a second.”

  Carol Ann nodded mutely as Fern led her to the nearest beige sofa. As Fern comforted the clearly shaken woman, I set the pineapple on a nearby end table and scanned the crowd for Richard. Where was he?

  I caught a glimpse of him across the lawn with a beautifully costumed Balinese dancer as she tried to teach him the exaggerated moves of the traditional dance. It wasn’t going well. Richard’s version of Balinese dance looked like a cross between “vogueing” and a seizure. I hurried across to him as quickly as I could without running. One of my hard-and-fast rules as a wedding planner? Never run. If the person in charge looked concerned, it made everyone else panic. I kept a smile on my face as I approached him, and I bowed slightly to the dancer as I tugged on Richard’s sleeve.

  “I’m in the middle of something,” Richard said, “and I think I’m almost getting it.”

  I pulled him away from the dancer with an apologetic look to her. “I’m sorry, but you’re not.”

  He gave me a withering look and stopped swiveling his hips. “Fine. What is it?”

  I looked over my shoulder to confirm Fern still had Carol Ann occupied. “The killer tried to knock off Carol Ann.”

  “I thought your number one suspect for who the murderer could be was Carol Ann,” Richard said.

  “I might be wrong about that.” I took his arm and tugged him a few feet away from the nearest dancing couple. “Carol Ann asked to speak to me, but then I noticed that her pineapple was black.”

  “I’m sorry? Her what was what?”

  I pointed to a waiter passing with a tray of cocktails in hollowed-out pineapple glasses. “She was drinking one of those, and I realized the inside of the pineapple, the part filled with the drink, was turning black.”

  Richard made a face. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “Carol Ann was seriously shaken up when I showed her, and I don’t think there’s any way she’s pretending about that.”

  “So much for solving the case.” Richard crossed his arms across his chest. “Maybe now’s a good time to leave it to the police.”

  “Maybe.” I stared at Carol Ann as she sat on the couch, Fern next to her touching up her hair. “She did mention that she didn’t add the victims’ names to the list. But we already know that the guys from Insider Weddings didn’t add them, either.”

  “At least that’s what they claim,” Richard reminded me.

  I thought back to how insistent Cliff and Ted had been about not adding Sasha. They had seemed almost affronted by the thought that they would have included her. “I think they’re telling the truth, too.”

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this, darling,” Richard said. “But you can’t make both of them right. They were the only ones who made up the guest list, correct?”

  I bit the edge of my lower lip. “Yes. From what I understand, Cliff and Ted added some members of the Editor’s Circle who weren’t on Carol Ann’s list, but that was it.”

  “So either
one of the guys from Insider Weddings lied and he did add Veronica’s and Sasha’s names to the list, or Carol Ann is lying and added their names and also tried to poison herself.” Richard leaned forward. “I’ll bet one of Carol Ann’s assistants could sort this out for us in two seconds.”

  “You’re right. Dahlia and Kelly know every detail about this trip.” I paused as what I’d said aloud sunk in. “They could just as easily have added names to the list and told their boss that the guys at Insider Weddings wanted them on. Carol Ann wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

  Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “You think those two girls are killers? They’re barely out of braces and OxiClean.”

  “They aren’t that young,” I said to him. “Early twenties.”

  “Why would they want to murder a bunch of people they’ve never met?” Richard asked. “At least Carol Ann knew the victims or some of them. Dahlia and Kelly are completely new to the wedding world. Didn’t Carol Ann say Dahlia’s only been with her a year and Kelly is an intern? I have a hard time seeing the motive even if I could picture them as serial killers.”

  I threw my hands into the air. “So explain who snuck the victims onto the guest list. The person who made sure the victims were on the list has to be the killer. Why else go to so much trouble? Someone wanted those people to be here on the island so they could poison them. Everyone else on the list was either a member of the Editor’s Circle or someone Carol Ann wanted to include. All except Veronica, Dina, Sasha, and Jeremy.”

  “I still say we ask Kelly and Dahlia,” Richard said.

  I shook my head. “And tip our hand?”

  Richard stared at me unblinking. “What hand?”

  “If either one of them is involved with the murders, we don’t want them to know that we know.” I looked across the lawn for the two blond assistants.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think you really know what you know, so there isn’t much danger of them finding out,”

  I stifled the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Sometimes Richard’s habit of poking holes in my theories made me want to kick him. Especially when he made sense.

  “What was it that Carol Ann wanted to talk to you about before you discovered her drink had been poisoned?” Richard asked. “You never told me her confession.”

  I put my fingers to my temples. “She didn’t tell me. We both freaked out a bit after we realized her drink had been poisoned. Fern took charge of calming her down while I came to tell you.”

  “Where is she now?” Richard looked over my head at the pairs of dancers spread across the lawn.

  I followed his gaze until I spotted Carol Ann’s curly brown hair. “It looks like she and Fern are taking a seat for the purification ritual.”

  At the far end of the lawn closest to the sand, rows of white, wooden folding chairs were set up beneath a stage upon which sat a Balinese woman wearing all white with lots of dark hair piled on top of her head. Despite her hair adding a few inches, the woman with coils of gold snaking around her arms was small and thin.

  “That must be the high priestess who’s here to do the cleansing ritual.”

  “Didn’t we miss the boat on purification for this trip?” Richard looked suspiciously at the woman now kneeling at the edge of the stage, surrounded by attendants holding golden bowls. “I think the fox is already in the hen house.”

  I grabbed his sleeve, pulling him with me as I crossed to the chairs. “Come on. I want to try to sit next to Carol Ann so I can ask her what she wanted to tell me.”

  We dodged several people as we wound our way toward the small stage, finally reaching Carol Ann and Fern on the front row. I sat down next to Carol Ann and gave her a quick smile.

  “Feeling better?” I asked.

  She shrugged, her head bobbling back and forth and her eyes unfocused.

  I leaned back and got Fern’s attention. “Did you get her drunk?”

  He sucked in a breath. “Of course not. She wouldn’t touch a drink after her last one was poisoned.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “So I gave her a Valium.”

  “What?” I tried not to scream, but Carol Ann jumped at the sound of my raised voice.

  “Just a half.” Fern held up two fingers to show me the size of the half pill. “The woman needed something. She was a wreck.”

  So much for getting any valuable information out of her, I thought as I watched Carol Ann’s head loll forward. I narrowed my eyes at Fern’s wide smile. “And the other half?”

  He giggled, his cheeks flushing pink. “Waste not, want not.”

  I stifled the urge to reach across and pinch him. Instead, I nudged Richard next to me. “Fern and Carol Ann are doped up on Valium.”

  He craned his head around me to look at the two, both with vacant smiles on their faces as they gazed up at the priestess who had begun to chant. “I see no difference.”

  Before I could agree with him, one of the priestess’s attendants waved us forward. I hoisted Carol Ann up by the arm and pushed her to follow Fern as he led our row to the front of the stage. I linked my arm through hers even when we were directed to put our hands in the prayer position and close our eyes. I did not want to open my eyes and find her in a heap beside me.

  I could hear the chanting of the priestess growing louder, along with Richard’s muttered complaints about voodoo nonsense, before I was suddenly drenched with water. I opened my eyes to see the priestess shaking water over us with a large brush, but closed them again before being hit with another spray,

  “She must be out of her mind,” Richard spluttered next to me. “Can’t she see I’m wearing silk?”

  The attendant directed us off to the side so the next group could take our place and get purified.

  “I feel renewed,” Fern said, squeezing water from his ponytail.

  “Well, you look like a wet rat,” Richard said, trying to pull his soaking shirt away from his skin.

  I wished I’d worn waterproof mascara as I ran a hand over my face, trying to clear the water from my eyes. I could imagine the black streaks trailing down my cheeks. I blinked hard as I spotted a figure coming toward me.

  Fern poked me in the side. “It may be the Valium talking, but that guy looks a lot like Detective Reese.”

  “The tall guy with dark hair?” Carol Ann leaned against me as she squinted across the lawn to follow Fern’s gaze. “Does anyone else see two of them?”

  Chapter 30

  “What would Reese be doing here?” I asked, holding up my hand to shield my eyes from the bright shaft of sunlight as it dipped behind the trees. The setting sun put the approaching men in shadows, but I felt a jolt of recognition as I studied the broad-shouldered silhouette with the long, confident gait.

  “Maybe it’s a mirage,” Fern suggested. “I’ve always wanted to see a mirage.”

  I could hear the sounds of the high priestess purifying the next group of people behind us—a rhythmic cadence of chanting broken only by the sounds of water being splashed—but the noise blurred into the background as my mind tried to process the unbelievable sight in front of me.

  “Did you know about this?” I asked Richard, who was still trying to air-dry his silk shirt by flapping it away from his body.

  “About what?” Richard glanced up and froze.

  Fern turned to me and inhaled sharply. “Darling, we need to fix your face before you scare this gorgeous mirage away.” He produced a powder compact from his pocket and began dabbing at my face.

  Kate hurried up to me and tugged at my sleeve. “You’re not going to believe who’s here.”

  I waved away Fern’s compact sponge as he patted powder onto my chin, my heart beating fast as Detective Mike Reese reached me. I thought about asking him what he was doing in Bali, but then a better question popped into my head. “Did you really drag your brother all the way to Bali with you so you two could check up on me?”

  Daniel Reese grinned at me and hoisted a black carry-on bag higher on his shoulder. He was taller
than his younger brother but shared the same dark hair, although Daniel’s had flecks of gray at the temples. We’d met Mike’s brother when he provided security for one of our more problematic weddings. As a veteran of the DC police department, he ran a successful private security firm and employed a lot of former law enforcement officers like himself. Daniel’s combination of brawn and authoritative presence was something both brothers shared, though I found him less bossy than his kid brother.

  Mike tilted his head at me. “I thought it would take two of us to handle you and your cohorts.”

  “Handle us?” I put a hand on one hip. “Do we look like we need handling?”

  Mike and Daniel looked us up and down, their raised eyebrows telling me that they clearly did believe we needed help. I glanced around me, remembering we were all soaking wet and wearing white tops with colorful sarongs wrapped around our waists. The white Balinese hats Fern and Richard wore, the fabric now soggy and dripping water into their faces, didn’t help our case either.

  “We just finished a purification ritual,” I explained, shooting Kate a look as I noticed how translucent her blouse had become and how hard Daniel Reese attempted to divert his eyes. “Although I don’t know how well it took.”

  The corner of Mike’s mouth turned up. “If I’d known you were getting purified, I might have hopped on an earlier plane.”

  Fern pushed me forward, whispering in my ear, “Now is not the time to play hard to get. Not with the current state of your makeup.”

  Mike caught me by the elbow as I stumbled a bit. “I had been hoping for a warmer reception.”

  I looked up at him, feeling my defensiveness melt as I met his eyes and they deepened from hazel to green. “You surprised me that’s all.”

  He leaned down, lowering his mouth to my ear. “That was the point.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your handsome friends?” Carol Ann asked, her Southern drawl magnified by the effects of the Valium.

  I took a small step away from Mike, but his hand remained on my arm. “Carol Ann, this is Mike and Daniel Reese. Friends from DC.”