A Merry Christmas Wedding Mystery, Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #4 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “The woman does know how to get us to eat our veggies, doesn’t she?” Max added, digging into a small crudité of fresh vegetables the chefs and I had decided to serve with several options for dipping. Max had chosen the garlic aioli. “What’s up with our Christiana?”

  I took a sip of steaming coffee and then filled in everyone quickly on the issues that Brigit had raised. I tried not to editorialize too much. On the other hand, I was open about the fact that, in my opinion, her request for more practice seemed reasonable. I did not mention the lingering uneasiness I felt. Surely, whoever she was speaking to in that first conversation would be with her soon. Maybe he had joined her already. I relaxed a little more.

  “Why couldn’t she just have said that instead of storming off like a drama queen?” Max asked as he pointed to another selection on the cart the caterers had brought around again. Everyone made another round of choices, with more small plates placed in front of them. I helped myself to several more items from that cart trying to figure out how to respond politely to Max’s question.

  “Max, in your twenties how tactful were you when you felt your concerns weren’t taken seriously? I wasn’t always patient with my elders when they didn’t listen, and I became convinced I was right about something.” I was thinking, specifically about how impatient I had become with the police in my hometown when they had given me the runaround about my missing fiancé. A sad old mystery that had only recently been cleared up. “Now we’re the elders,” I said. “Maybe we should try to do a little better.” There was a lull in the conversation, waiting for Max to respond.

  “Good point, Georgie. What do you think, Nelson? Can we work around this?”

  The chatter picked up again as the rest of us ate while Max and Nelson considered the implications for the day’s filming schedule. Jack leaned in and whispered, “Actress wrangler and Mad Max whisperer—the legend continues.”

  I gave him a little poke with my elbow. He was smiling one of these irresistible, ear-to-ear smiles that warmed me like sunshine. Jack’s compliments were hard to resist, too, even if I still felt uneasy about those offered by other people.

  “What the heck is that?” Jack asked. I followed his eyes to see a towering figure approaching.

  “It’s a Swanderling, Jack.”

  “A what?”

  “A Swan-der-ling,” Gloria said, laughing as she emphasized each syllable. “When the prince ditches the Black Swan Queen, refusing to marry and reunite Swanderland into a single kingdom, she starts turning his underlings into Swanderlings. Part swan, part human.”

  “They’re almost like angels, with those wings on a human body. Mostly human,” I added.

  “We can’t use actual humans to portray them because they have long, slender necks. So, we have hired Karl Dorchester—the famous puppet master—to create creatures for the film.” Max who had been speaking to Nelson overheard our discussion about another of his animated creations and had to step in. “Karl, come here and show us your handiwork.”

  Karl walked our way with that Swanderling gliding alongside him. We watched in fascination as he demonstrated what a modern-day puppet could do. The puppeteer’s creation was eerily lifelike. More lifelike, in fact, than its creator who showed little in the way of expression on his face.

  I was surprised at how young he seemed. He appeared to be in his early thirties. That was hard to believe, given his stature in the business. Maybe he looked young because he had a “baby face.” Soft and round with plump cheeks and brown doe-eyes, he was almost adolescent. I couldn’t tell if he was bored by our interest, resentful, or perhaps merely preoccupied. He hardly said a word as he demonstrated what the Swanderling could do. At one point, he blushed crimson when the puppet’s lips puckered and eyes fluttered. Apparently, he had commanded it to do something else. He apologized without offering further explanation.

  “Sorry. I haven't worked out all the bugs. I’m going to block out the scene against the blue wall, now, but we can wait for the close-ups. Right, Nelson?”

  “No problem, Karl.”

  “Okay, that’s good. I need to get back to work now. Bye.” As he uttered those words, the Swanderling made a great fluttering motion and rose off the floor! We all gasped, and Karl’s cheeks flushed again. This time with happiness as the corners of his lips curled up, almost into a smile.

  “Wow,” Jack said, “that’s some trick.”

  “I know,” was all that Karl said as he and his creation left us.

  “Hmm, Georgie, your Swanderling-maker is an odd duck, isn’t he?” Jack asked me in a hushed tone.

  “Welcome to my world,” I whispered. This place was crawling with odd ducks. Not all of them characters that had sprung from the mind of Max Marley—oddest duck of them all.

  I watched as Karl continued to walk toward the area I had glimpsed earlier. A blue wall had been set up in a sound-proofed space. The man appeared to be speaking to himself or to that Swanderling at his side. Not a pleasant conversation as far as I could tell. Just as Karl turned into the room with the blue wall, I caught a glimpse of a young woman. I could have sworn it was Brigit. Had she decided to join us for lunch after all?

  “Georgie, Jack’s been introduced to everyone, how about you?” Gloria’s question caught me by surprise, and I glanced at her. When I looked back, a small group dressed as Swanderland townspeople followed Karl into that room, blocking my line of sight. Once it cleared again, there was no sign, anywhere, of a petite blond in black leggings and an oversized white shirt. I must have been mistaken and turned my attention to Gloria.

  “Not everyone,” I responded after taking another look at those seated at the table. For the next few minutes, Gloria assumed the role of hostess. After introductions, we chatted about the food and made small talk until Max stepped back into the role of ringmaster.

  “What’s for dessert?” he asked. Gasps came from those seated around the table as that cart came into sight. Mara made a grab for a plate of cookies covered in powdered sugar. Before anyone else had chosen a dessert, we heard a loud scream coming from the direction of the dressing rooms. Jack was on his feet in an instant, dashing toward the sound. I was on his heels, with others trailing after me. I couldn’t tell if that included everyone at the table. My heart beat rapidly. Had that scream come from Brigit?

  5 Gone Bride

  As we turned the corner, I could see Imogene standing in the corridor just outside Brigit’s dressing room. The door was ajar. I tried to prepare for the worst as I caught up to Imogene and Jack. Jack held up a hand at the doorway to keep us from entering that room.

  From where I stood in the hall, I could see that the room was a mess. While there was no body, there was blood. Not as disturbing as the scene I had witnessed at the foot of Catmmando Mountain when someone murdered Max Marley’s daughter, but enough to make me feel squeamish. Had someone injured Brigit? There must have been a struggle, given all the items thrown around. A broken lamp lay on the ground alongside what appeared to be that glass Brigit had been drinking from earlier. A small table was upended. There in that mess, dirty and torn, was Christiana's wedding dress.

  “Stay put, please. I’m going to go in and have a look around.” I knew that meant Jack was still concerned there might be a body in there somewhere. He had taken a notepad from a pocket as he stepped carefully around objects in his path. Here and there, he stooped down and marked a spot with a slip of paper.

  I was so intent on watching him, I hardly noticed that Imogene had grasped my arm. She hadn’t yet said a word. I reached out to place a hand over hers hoping to offer reassurance. Instead, she startled and pulled her arm away. Imogene took a step backward and bumped into Mara who was munching on a spicy chicken brochette as she stood there gawking.

  “You’re eating at a time like this?” Imogene asked as her eyes widened in horror. She blanched even paler than she had been when we arrived, then wavered on her feet.

  “She’s goin’ down,” Mara said as she licked a finger,
making no effort to step in and help.

  “Oh no, she’s not,” I said. I stepped behind Imogene as I spoke, intending to catch her as she dropped. I planned to drag her, if I had to, down the hall to another door that stood open.

  “I can help. Let’s bring Imogene into my dressing room where she can lie down,” Gloria said as she slid in beside me, slipped an arm around Imogene’s waist, and placed one of Imogene’s arms over her shoulder. I did the same on the other side. The tiny, gaunt woman was light as a feather with the two of us sweeping her off her feet.

  We had no sooner settled Imogene onto a chaise when Brad Stevens bounded into the room. In tee shirt and shorts, he was no Tristan, but still quite handsome. Too pretty for my taste, it was no mystery why he was a big draw at the box office. A broad forehead and square jaw provided the perfect frame for regular features that included piercing blue eyes. A forehead bearing the signs of Botox treatments belied the fact he had passed the 30-year mark revealed by tiny crows’ feet forming in the corners of those heavily-lashed eyes.

  “Gloria, are you okay?” he gasped, rushing to embrace her. He was breathing hard.

  “I'm all right, darling.”

  Where has he been? I wondered. I knew he had to be around since he had been on set today, but he hadn’t been at the lunch table. His hair was wet. Had he recently taken a shower? He caught me eying him and beamed a Broadway smile my way. When he spoke again, it was as if he had read my mind.

  “I just finished showering after my workout when a security guard hustled me out of there. He said there was trouble up here in the dressing rooms. I ran up the steps instead of waiting for the elevator.” He scanned the room and spotted Imogene reclining with a damp cloth on her forehead. “Is this about Imogene? Are you sick?” Brad let go of Gloria and took a step closer to the chaise.

  “I'm all right, now, too, Bradley.” Imogene struggled to push herself up, but her thin arms failed. I rushed to hover over her, afraid she might tumble off the chaise where she reclined.

  “Calm down, Imogene. I’m sure Jack will want to hear your story, but that can wait. Can I get you some water?”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll get it,” Gloria said as she opened a panel that concealed a small refrigerator. “Here,” she said handing me a bottle of water.

  “Take a few sips,” I said after opening the bottle and offering it to Imogene. She grasped it in a shaky hand.

  “Thanks,” she said. After a few sips, Imogene was about to speak again when voices approaching from the corridor interrupted her.

  “Our bride has gone missing,” Max said with a worried look on his face as he swept into the room. It was a good thing the suite was expansive, by dressing room standards, because Max wasn’t alone.

  “Even though no one seems to have seen her leave the building,” Jack added as he joined us too.

  “Yes, not above ground, anyway. Brigit could have exited through the tunnels. We’re still checking to make sure she’s not in any of the rehearsal rooms or break areas downstairs.” That was Ralph Emerson speaking as he stepped into Gloria's dressing room, too.

  Hired as the head of Marvelous Marley World Security for operations here in the U.S., I was a little surprised to see him. After the murder of his daughter at Catmmando Mountain on Valentine’s Day, Max had left word that the Executive Committee was to clean house in the Security Department. The previous director retired and Ralph Emerson was brought in rather than promoting from inside the corporation.

  More trouble on Halloween made it apparent that Ralph still had clean-up work to do at local Marvelous Marley World facilities. In the past month or so while Jack and I focused on putting a wedding together, Ralph had been revamping security systems here in Irvine at the World Headquarters, the nearby Arcadia Park, and California resorts. He had also traveled to other parts of the country, and outside the U.S., where Marvelous Marley World owns properties. I had hardly seen him since Halloween. He looked beat as he leaned against an armoire while scanning information on his phone.

  “Do you feel well enough to tell us what happened, Ms. Delacroix?”

  “Yes, Detective, but not so formal, please. I’m too tired to stand on ceremony. You know we’re all on a first-name basis here at Marvelous Marley World. In fact, I’m too tired to stand at all, so unless you object, I’ll remain seated. I haven’t been myself lately.” She looked up at me as she spoke those words. Now was not the time to worry about my hoop skirt problem.

  “You’re doing great, Imogene. Go ahead and tell Jack and the rest of us what happened before we all came running.”

  “If only I was better at delegating and didn’t have to do as much myself. That’s why I was in here. I came to do Gloria’s fitting for her dress and stayed to check it over. I was hanging it properly and reviewing my notes. I planned to join you all for lunch when I finished in here. I do know what dress you want to wear, Georgie.” This time when she tried to sit up, she did it. She turned to put her feet on the floor, her eyes downcast.

  “Please don’t worry about that now,” I said. Sitting down on the chaise next to Imogene, I reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “You were in here alone once Gloria left. That must have been while I was still meeting with Brigit, Jack, because Gloria was already sitting with you by the time I joined you for lunch.” Jack nodded.

  “That was past noon, as I recall. Right, Gloria?”

  “Yes, a few minutes past noon. I remember looking at the time on Brigit’s phone when I picked it up after she threw it at me.”

  “I saw it all happen," Imogene said. "When I heard a disturbance a little while later, I figured it was just Brigit carrying on, throwing things again. I’m not sure what made me finally go look.” Imogene paused and took a couple of sips of water.

  “Where was I? Oh, yes. Gloria had shut the door to her dressing room when she left, so I was in here alone with the door shut. After the thuds coming from Brigit’s room, I heard her door slam and muffled sounds in the hallway. Then there was an awful scraping sound. That’s when I finally peeked out. I didn’t see anyone, but one of those crystals from her dress caught my eye. Lying in the hallway, it sparkled in the overhead lighting. I had this sick feeling when I saw it. I knocked on the door, and she didn’t answer, so I opened the door. What I saw was so horrible. I had no idea she was trashing the wedding dress when I heard that tantrum earlier! Then I saw the blood on the floor. I panicked. I didn’t mean to scream like that.”

  “It was quite theatrical,” Mara said. I had forgotten she was even in the room. Several of us glanced in her direction. She was still eating. Spiced nuts from a little paper cup caterers had placed at each of the seats on that long lunch table. She tossed one into her mouth, almost as if she was eating popcorn at a movie rather than observing a real-life drama unfold.

  “Max called me at the sound of that scream,” Ralph said. “I got here as quickly as I could, started asking questions, and sent teams out to search the area. As Jack said, none of the security personnel stationed around the building saw her leave. She didn’t sign out at the gate, either. The gentleman on duty claims he would have recognized Brigit if she left that way.”

  “Yes, we spoke to Al when we arrived. I’m glad he survived the purge, Ralph. He’s sharp.”

  “He is, and Al says Brigit never leaves without saying goodbye.”

  “That’s presuming she left under her own power,” Jack interjected.

  “True.”

  “Okay, Ralph, so no sign of her above ground, where are you with the search for her in the tunnels?”

  “That’s still underway. We’ve gone through all the nearby facilities assigned to the cast and crew who work in this building. Brigit's not in any of them, and no one has seen her. We’re reviewing video footage, too, at spots where we’ve installed video cameras. The area here wasn’t our top priority since most people come and go through the front gates. There will still be gaps in the video coverage of the underground rehearsal areas, break areas, and
other places that support activities here. I don’t even know what those gaps are. Maybe we’ll catch something.”

  “It’s still a lot to do if you and your team have to scan all of the video data you’re talking about, Ralph. Max, I know you want to try to stay on schedule with the filming, but it's safer for everyone to focus on figuring out what's going on. That means canvassing everyone who has been on set today before anyone else leaves.”

  “I understand. I don’t like it, but I get it. At least there’s no dead body. What are we going to tell the press, Georgie?”

  “I don’t think there’s much to report yet. I doubt the public will care as much as we do that someone trashed one of Imogene’s amazing creations.” Imogene, who had been completely quiet after telling her story of the afternoon’s events, just shook her head.

  “No one would have screeched in horror as I did. I’m quite certain about that. Can I clean up in there and see if I can repair it, Detective?”

  “The Crime Scene Investigators just arrived, and they’re in there now. That dress is going to be taken into evidence, Imogene. Georgie’s right that there’s not much to say, officially, until we’re sure she’s not roaming around Soundstage 4 or in the basement somewhere. We’ve called Brigit’s cell phone number, but she’s not picking up. In fact, we can’t even get through to leave a voice mail.”

  “She’s lucky that thing worked at all after it bounced off the wall and hit the floor,” Gloria said.

  “I didn’t share details at lunch about that part of my interaction with Brigit, Jack. She seems to have some grudge against the Black Swan Queen, here.”