“Susan, I know you’re busy …” This time she recognized Kathleen’s voice calling down the hallway. “… but that woman, the one who calls herself the Archangel, is on the phone. She wants to talk with you. She says it’s urgent.”
“I—”
“Susan—”
“Mother—”
“Sue—”
Susan’s mind was racing. Wrapped packages, misplaced clothing, people going off on their own regardless of her careful planning, life in a commune years ago, problems with the flowers, the Archangel’s hysterical urgency over things that simply didn’t make any difference … didn’t matter. Suddenly it all came together for her.
“Shut up!” Susan was astounded by the loudness of her own voice. “Everyone just shut up. You can all take care of your own problems. Chrissy, the gloves are still in their box on the windowsill in the guest room. I saw them last night. Jed, I bought you a present—antique studs—they’re in a wrapped package in the top drawer of the nightstand on my side of the bed. Mother, we’ve already paid for the cars, we might as well use them, don’t you think? We don’t want to be wasteful,” she couldn’t resist adding. “Wendy, no dogs. Do you hear me? No dogs at the church. And tell whoever called from the Inn that any questions anyone has about flowers should be directed to Erika Eden. Her beeper number is on the bulletin board next to the phone in the kitchen. And you,” she added to the photographer, “you tape outside of the church only. Hear me? Outside only. And, Kathleen, hang up on the Archangel and call Brett. Tell him we have an emergency and I have to see him immediately!”
“But—”
“A serious emergency! I’ll be in my bathroom and I don’t want to be interrupted by anyone other than Brett!” And she turned and marched up the stairs. But she had one last thought, and she turned to face her family and friends as she arrived on the second-floor landing. “There will be a wedding today. And—” she glanced at her daughter’s worried face and smiled “—and it really will be the loveliest wedding Hancock has ever seen.”
She went to her bedroom, stomped through it without even pausing to pat Clue’s head, comfortably cradled by her own down pillow, and on into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She had, she realized looking in the mirror, two important tasks ahead of her. She had to have a murderer arrested and gotten out of the way before the service began. And she had to do something about her hair!
First things first, she decided, and reached for her hairbrush.
She was just beginning to feel satisfied with the result of her work when there was a knock on the bathroom door.
“Susan? Are you in there? It’s Brett Fortesque. I understand you have some sort of problem.…”
She opened the door. “Come in. Yeah, I know it’s a rather odd offer,” she added, noticing the surprise on his face. “But I want to talk with you privately and this is as private a spot as we’re likely to find in this house today. Besides, I think I need to do something with my eyebrows.…”
“Susan, what’s going on?” Brett asked. “I know you’ve been running all over town in the middle of the night and it’s pretty obvious that it’s not just because you’re giving Chrissy a wedding.”
Susan, standing so she could see Brett’s reflection in the mirror over the sink, took a deep breath and plunged in. “A woman was murdered, Brett.”
He was, she decided, one of the most amazing men she’d ever met. “Who? When? Where? And where is she now?” was all he said. And he said it quietly.
“I …” She stopped. “You know, I don’t actually know her name. Stephen called her Aunt Ginny. And David … I guess David just called her Mother.”
“So she is David’s mother? And Stephen’s aunt? We are talking about the Stephen who Chrissy is supposed to be marrying in a few hours, aren’t we?”
“The Stephen Canfield who … whom … she is going to marry in a few hours,” she corrected him. “And oh, Brett, Chrissy doesn’t know anything about this—nothing. And I sure don’t want to tell her. Okay?”
“Susan, I don’t know enough to tell anyone anything. Yet.”
“I am trying to tell you, Brett. You see, Chrissy’s wedding gown disappeared yesterday and then the box—the box it was shipped from Italy in—the box was at the Yacht Club in the ladies’ room …”
“Okay, I get it. You found her in the stall you were trying to keep the plumber, or anyone, from entering?” Brett asked.
“Well, I found her in the box on the couch. I put her in the stall so no one else would find her.”
“Susan, if you had told me about this yesterday—”
“Brett—”
“Okay. I’m sorry. Let’s not argue about that now. Just tell me what you know. How exactly did this woman die?”
“First, I should tell you that she is not Stephen’s aunt. He just called her Aunt Ginny when he was young. And she is not the woman who is here with David’s father—she is his stepmother. The dead woman never even lived in the commune they all spend so much time talking about. David’s father and she broke up before the commune was founded.”
“And how did she die?” Brett asked patiently.
“Well, Kathleen said it looked like someone had strangled her.”
A crumpled grin appeared on Brett’s face. “I should have known Kathleen was involved in this. Anyone else?”
“No, there’s just the one woman.… Oh, you mean, does anyone else know about the murder.”
“Yes.”
“Just Jed. And the murderer, of course.” She stopped and thought for a moment. “And Stephen. And David—well, he knows his mother is dead, but I’m not sure he realizes it was murder. And Stephen’s mother seems to know that David’s mother’s dead—but she might not know how. And Tom Davidson might have looked in the box—although I really don’t think he would do that when he thought it was a wedding present. And whoever has it now may have looked in—”
“Susan. Stop for a moment. I hope I didn’t hear what I think I just heard.”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. “The body is missing. Well, not exactly missing. I just don’t know where it is.”
“Which amounts to the same thing right now.”
“Sort of—”
“Susan, a woman you invited to your daughter’s wedding was murdered—”
“That’s not right, Brett. She wasn’t invited to the wedding. Although she did get hold of an invitation. I think that may have to do with Stephen’s parents, too, but I’m not sure.”
“So she lives around here and just happened to stop by to see old friends—or her son?”
“I …” Susan was beginning to realize how many questions she still didn’t have answers to. “I don’t think so. Actually, I got the impression that she was still living out on the West Coast somewhere.”
“So she just came here to be murdered.”
“I … ah … well, that’s not exactly what I think,” Susan said. “But, you know, you may have a point. Do you want me to tell you what I think?”
“Susan, I would love to know what you think. Especially if you think you know who killed the poor woman and why—and where her body is right now.”
“Well, this took me a while …”
“Susan—”
“I know what you’re thinking. I found the body less than twenty-four hours ago, so I’m exaggerating the time, but, believe me, it’s been a very long and eventful twenty-four hours.”
“I’m sure, but—”
“Of course, I asked the same questions you’re asking now. Who is she? Why was she here for the wedding? Why would someone kill her? Who killed her? I am getting to some of the answers,” she added, recognizing the impatience on his face.
“And I’m waiting for them.”
“Okay, do you want to know the entire process I went through? I mean, I didn’t realize who the dead woman was at first—”
“Do you want to see your daughter get married?”
“Brett! Of c
ourse I do! How could you ask such a question?”
“If Chrissy is going to walk down that aisle on time, you’d better fill me in on all the details. Unless your solution has something to do with the wedding?” He raised his eyebrows, a serious expression on his face.
“It has to do with a wedding … but not Chrissy’s.”
“You are going to explain before I’m old and gray?”
“I’m going to explain this minute. And then we’re both going to join our family and friends and see my daughter get married to the love of her life.”
“Good.”
“But first I have a few things to say to Chrissy on her wedding day. And I absolutely must make one phone call.”
“Susan …”
“Just fifteen minutes, Brett. That’s all. I promise.”
“Well, you’ve waited this long, I suppose another fifteen minutes won’t make any difference. But, Susan …”
“Yes, Brett?”
“Fifteen minutes, and that’s all.”
THIRTY-TWO
“It was nice of Brett to let you have that time with Chrissy. I know it meant a lot to her,” Jed said, picking up his wife’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
She smiled and squeezed back. “It meant a lot to me, too.” She felt tears at the corners of her eyes and reached into her purse for a handkerchief. A tiny beaded Judith Liebner bag had replaced her vast satchel. She peered into the pristine silk interior; she was, it seemed, carrying three tubes of bronze lipstick, black mascara, a twenty-dollar bill, a small pot of solid perfume, and a broken toothpick.
“Here. I brought an extra.” Jed offered his wife a clean linen square.
“You did? Oh, you are so sweet …” She grabbed for it and dabbed at her eyes.
“Being married to a woman who tears up at the sight of the Christmas tree every year has taught me to be prepared—especially on the day her only daughter gets married.”
Susan smiled again, sniffled a few more times, and continued her story. “Well, I explained to Brett that it finally dawned on me that the only reason for David’s mother to be here was that she knew all the members of the commune would get together again for Stephen’s wedding—everyone kept mentioning that this was the first real reunion the group had had. And David’s mother had some people she wanted to see.”
“And when she saw these people?”
“Then she had to be killed so the wrong people didn’t find out what she knew.”
“You know, this still isn’t making a lot of sense.” He leaned forward to peer from the backseat of the Bentley out into the traffic in front of them. “And it isn’t all that long until we get to the church.”
“Well, the story isn’t very long either. I was right about my first hunch. It all hinged on the Archangel. Of course, she wasn’t the victim, but she was the most important player here.”
“Don’t tell her. She’s self-important enough as it is.”
“Boy, you’re right about that. And she loves attention. Look at the way she arrived here yesterday. First, she was supposed to be stuck at O’Hare Airport, then the story went that she was testifying at a congressional hearing. But it was all garbage. She was here earlier in the day, just visiting old friends like everyone else. She seems to be one of those people who needs to be the center of attention—and when she isn’t, she makes up stories. But, to give credit where credit is due, she was still the pivotal person in this story.”
“Because she married all those people?” Jed asked.
“Just the opposite. Because she couldn’t legally marry anyone. She may have been an ex-nun. And she certainly was a self-proclaimed spiritual leader. But not an ordained minister.”
“Then were the marriages that took place in the commune legal?”
“Nope. I should have realized that when I first heard about them. After all, the first couple she married was Freedom and Hubris.…”
“I hope it doesn’t matter which couple you’re talking about. I’m still having trouble connecting the names with the faces,” Jed admitted reluctantly.
“They’re the ones who own the theater up on the Cape.”
“The gay men?”
“Exactly.”
“Then … what you’re saying is that their marriage couldn’t be legal—even if it was performed by a minister.”
“Yes, but the rest of the services the Archangel performed weren’t legally binding either. She may have been well-meaning and sincere (although I doubt it). But she can’t legally marry anyone.”
“What about Chrissy?”
Susan heard the alarm in her husband’s voice. “Chrissy and Stephen are going to be quite legally married by the Reverend Richard Price. Don’t worry. I called him this morning right before I spoke with Chrissy. Everything is going to be nice and legal. He’s known about the Archangel’s limitations the whole time. Apparently she knew better than to hide her lack of accreditation from him. Dick is going to do the standard service and when it comes time for a short sermon, the Archangel will say a few words to the couple and then to our guests. That’s the way it was planned from the beginning.” Susan frowned. “I think he’s just hoping the few words she wants to speak won’t turn into a long soliloquy.”
“He’s not the only one. So finish telling me the story—and how you figured it all out.”
“It wasn’t at all difficult after that. Who in the commune benefited from being married?”
“Or not married, as the case may be …”
“Exactly, Jed! That’s what I’m trying to explain.”
“Susan, in ten minutes I hope I’m going to be walking our daughter down the aisle of the church. And I sure hope you’re going to be finished explaining by that time.…”
“I’m trying, Jed. It’s not that complex a story really. It’s easy. Let me tell you what I know …”
“Please.”
“Well, the commune was located in an old crumbling hotel that David’s stepmother had inherited. The neighborhood was rundown; it probably wasn’t worth an awful lot at the time the commune moved in. But, years later, after the commune broke up, the neighborhood had become more desirable—enough for a major corporation to pay big bucks to buy up that hotel, tear it down, and build a gigantic hotel and convention center on the site.”
“So?” The line of limousines was stopped at a light and Jed peered out the window while listening to the story his wife was relating.
“So anyone who thought about it would have assumed that half of the profit belonged to David’s father—because of California community property laws—and at least some of that would be passed on to David, making him a very rich young man.”
“Who thought that?” The limo slowly started again.
“Everyone, I guess. David surely did—why would he have assumed anything else? And I’m sure Wendy’s parents did.”
“You think that’s why they encouraged the marriage in the beginning? They wanted their daughter to marry money?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Why?”
“Because one—or both of them—killed David’s mother so no one would ever find out that his father and the woman he had assumed was his stepmother weren’t legally married.”
Jed thought for a moment. “What about a common-law marriage? What about all those celebrities who are always suing for massive amounts of money in California even though they’ve just been living together for years—without benefit of any legal document?”
“That might be fine—except for the fact that David’s father and mother had never gotten a divorce. That’s why David’s father and stepmother were thrilled to have the Archangel perform a service for them. Like Freedom and Hubris, it gave them a validity they couldn’t get legally.”
“So that’s also the reason that Wendy’s parents, after encouraging the relationship, began to discourage it—”
“It’s not quite that simple, Jed. You see … What’s wrong? You keep looking out the window.”
&nbs
p; “There seems to be something happening on the road. We’re slowing down for more than lights and stop signs.”
“It’s the photographer, sir.” The uniformed driver made the statement without looking around.
“Excuse me? What photographer?”
“There’s a man with a video camera outside the church asking each driver to wait in a line by the sidewalk. Then each group is to leave their car separately so he can get a good shot of them going up the stairs and into the church.”
“Does this always happen?” Jed asked.
“Standard practice. There are probably MTV videos with less production time than some weddings these days.”
“How do you know what’s going on?” Susan asked.
The driver picked up a small phone from the seat beside him. “We’re in constant contact. Want me to tell them to get the show on the road?”
“Ye—”
“No, Jed.” Susan put her hand on his arm and, looking down, realized that most of her nails were either chipped or broken. How long had it been since she’d left that manicurist? “This is fine. It gives us a chance to talk before the service—and if it goes on too long, you know Dick will come out and speed things up.”
“Okay, I guess you’re right. So keep going. Explain. How did you figure all this out, for heaven’s sake?”
“Well, a lot came together for me when I spent some time with Wendy this morning. She was so distraught over her parents’ disapproval of her marriage with David; she simply didn’t understand why it had happened. At first I thought she was just being upset and slightly hysterical. But she claimed to have no idea why her parents didn’t approve of their marriage. And then there was the fact that she seemed to be surprised by David’s heavy drinking.”
“Really? I’d gotten the impression that he was an alcoholic, that his behavior this weekend was normal for him,” Jed said.
“Exactly what I thought. But apparently it wasn’t true. Remember, Wendy and David have not only dated for years, but they’ve been living near each other all their lives. She seemed to be genuinely upset and shocked by his behavior.”
Weddings Are Murder Page 24
