Trouble's Wedding Caper

by Jen Talty

  She could only hope it was some personal crap that had nothing to do with his real estate business, which could affect her job. Ha! That’s why she wanted to know. The plan had been to work for Craig part-time while she studied to take her Florida test, so she could be licensed in the state. Once that happened, she’d stay employed by Craig until either she found something better or she opened her own office.

  The money from her treasure hunting business would help fund the latter, which was the ultimate goal. Not to mention, thus far, she enjoyed the whole aspect of buying abandoned storage units. Besides selling the stuff, she wanted to know who collected all of the wedding materials and why.

  So many possibilities. There certainly was a market for used and almost new wedding dresses and accessories. Maybe this person was hoarding up to start a boutique.

  Oh. That was an interesting idea. There were a lot of great little shops popping up in the area she could supply.

  She punched in the keycode combination for the gate at the Public Storage facility. The office had given her the unit for free for the rest of the month. If she planned on keeping it, she’d owe them three hundred and fifty-five dollars by the first. She also had a spare bedroom she could store all this in, but it would take a few trips. Considering the break-in, that option wasn’t too appealing.

  She needed to do a complete inventory, take pictures, and have the items appraised so she could put them up for sale, or perhaps some of them would go to a consignment shop. She didn’t have time to do all that today.

  The metal gate rattled to life and inched open. While she waited, her mind kept wandering back to Craig. He was about Ethan’s age but had grown up in Stewart. Oddly enough, she’d met him a handful of times at the golf course her father belonged to in Hobe Sound at various holiday events.

  “Hey, Siri, call Rosie Matthews’ mobile.”

  Annabel tapped the gas and eased into the storage area, heading straight toward her unit, which was located in the right building, about fifteen doors down. She parked just past her spot and not far from a limo. She did a double take and blinked three times. Nope. Still a limo. She’d have to keep checking it out so she could see who the owner was.

  Her inquisitive mind was turning once again.

  “Hey, sunshine,” Rosie said in her sweet, sing-song voice that cut through the air like Cupid on a mission. That girl could belt out the National Anthem and had done so at most of their high school games. Of all the different careers and jobs Rosie had dabbled in, singing, her God-given talent, had never been one of them. “I’ve only got a few a minutes. What’s up?”

  “You know my boss, Craig, right?”

  “Not well, but yeah, why?”

  “He was just served papers.”

  “No way! For what?” Rosie asked with a high-pitched whisper.

  “I have no idea, but doesn’t his girlfriend work—”

  “His ex-girlfriend used to work here.”

  “They broke up? When?” Annabel didn’t think it that strange that Craig never talked about his love life. He was her boss, and they never socialized, not even when she’d been at the club with her family.

  “About the same time she was fired. Right after my wedding.”

  “He didn’t tell me that. Why’d they break up and why was she canned?” Annabel glanced over her shoulder. Trouble had curled up in the back seat on top of her fleece blanket. He didn’t seem to like the cat bed she’d bought.

  “There’s actually a lot of speculation about that, and since she didn’t work at the spa, but in hospitality, I really don’t know.”

  “Come on, Rosie, since when do you back off on gossip?”

  Rosie gasped. “I can’t believe you just said that. I’m so not into spreading rumors,” she said with a teasing tone.

  “No, but you’ve always shared with me, and you know how I get.” Annabel had missed this kind of banter. Rosie hadn’t cared much for Devin in the last couple of years, and neither had Chip, so their relationship had been strained. Not horribly, but they weren’t calling each other every week like they used to. Things were back to normal now, and it felt good to know she had Rosie in her corner.

  “I honestly try to stay out of hotel gossip, especially with the girls that work for me, but I have heard that she was sleeping with the food and beverage manager, who was also let go.”

  “Scandalous.” Annabel tucked her cell between her ear and shoulder as she stepped from the vehicle and opened the back door. Trouble didn’t move. Or flinch. Oh, to be able to sleep like a cat.

  She left the door open for when Trouble did wake up. Thankfully, her unit was now shaded by the other building as the sun made its descent toward the western horizon. The sky remained bright blue like the ocean on a calm day. She had one hour to go through as much of this stuff as she could before she dropped Trouble off at home and then was off to meet Ethan for their…date.

  That thought brought a smile to her face while butterflies slapped their wings inside her stomach.

  “Like I said, it’s all speculation. No one knows for sure. But I will say, she’s a bit of a flirt. Uses her fantastic freaking good looks and tight body to get whatever she wants. Makes the rest of us pretty girls look bad. Kind of like my brother’s ex.”

  Annabel laughed. Rosie had model-like features with her long, thick hair, curvy breasts, tiny waist, perfectly bronzed skin, and the same sea-foam green eyes her brother had. She’d never been self-centered about her looks, but she knew she walked on the side of gorgeous.

  “What’s his ex’s name again?”

  “Sarah. Sarah Silvers,” Rosie said.

  “Do you think something happened so that the ex might be suing him? Or could it be business-related?”

  “Does your mind ever stop?”

  Annabel chuckled. “Hey, I have to work with the guy. I should know if he’s on the verge of some mental breakdown or something.”

  “Whatever you say,” Rosie said with a breathy laugh. “Has Craig had any weird dealings since you’ve been there? Maybe something happened with a client?”

  “I don’t think so. He hired me as a receptionist, clerk, so I haven’t had many dealings with the properties, but most of the paperwork comes across my desk. I was hoping he’d let me show properties for him, but he’s not interested in letting me help out more, and honestly, I’m using the time there to study for my test, make a few bucks, and start connecting with the community.”

  “It will all work out. That I’m sure of. Now, I’ve got to run, but let me give you one small piece of advice.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Wear that white sundress you wore to my rehearsal dinner. I think my brother’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw you waltz into Michael’s Landing wearing that little number.”

  “We’re going out on the boat and then to Waterford. I think that dress might be overkill.” She pulled up a few memories from the wedding weekend and her time with Ethan while her boyfriend acted like a total dick, constantly picking a fight with her over stupid things.

  “I think it will be perfect on a night like tonight. Gotta run,” Rosie said.

  The phone went dead. Leave it to Rosie to end the conversation on that note after planting the image of that dress, and Ethan’s smile, solidly in her head.

  Annabel shoved the cell in her back pocket as she grabbed a notebook and opened the storage unit.

  She settled into the folding chair and pulled out the items in the first box. Three engagement rings. One looked like it could be about a half carat. The second one only slightly larger. The third one was like nothing she’d ever seen before as far as size went. Her fingers trembled as she snapped a picture.

  Next up was a small pouch. She tipped it up, dumping the contents into her hand. There were two wedding rings, and one was inscribed with: Always and Forever. She laid them out on a piece of velvet and took their picture, logging them in her notebook, wondering if the Always and Forever had taken place, or had the
ir happiness been a passing ship, destined to sink.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trouble stretch before gracefully leaping from the vehicle and meandering in her direction. This cat had more manners and class than most people.

  He meowed as he jumped a full one hundred and eighty degrees in the air, landing on his paws as if ready to attack, his hair sticking straight up.

  The sound of footsteps startled Annabel as much as it had Trouble.

  “Hi,” a young woman with strawberry blond hair said. “Sorry to bother you but do you…oh my God. Look at this stuff.” The girl stopped midstep, her mouth gaping open. “You’re not the guy I normally see here.”

  “And who is that?” Annabel tucked the rings back into their containers and into the box.

  “I never got his name.”

  “What did he look like?” Annabel asked, her heart beating faster.

  The young woman tilted her head, nibbling on her perfectly manicured nail. “Kind of tall, muscular, always wore a baseball cap.” She shrugged. “I tried to say hello to him once, but he ignored me, so I never really got a decent look at him.”

  “Can you tell me anything else about him? What did he drive?” She racked her brain to remember the vehicle parked in the lot earlier.

  “I have no idea. Like I said, I only saw him a few times really early in the morning. He’d open his unit, then go in and pull the door down.”

  “That’s peculiar. It’s darker than hell in these places.” She’d be afraid of getting locked in.

  “I know, right?” the girl said, stretching out her arm. “I’m Tara.”

  “Annabel, nice to meet you.” Annabel shook the girl’s hand. “Now, wasn’t there something you needed?”

  “Oh yeah. Packing tape.” Tara ran her hand across the top of a box. “Is this all your stuff, or had this unit gone up for auction?”

  “Auction,” Annabel admitted.

  “Wow. I wish I hadn’t missed the day this one went up for bid.”

  “You’re a treasure hunter too?” Annabel had been surprised by how many people had shown up at her first auction. She hadn’t bid on anything that day. She wanted to observe how things worked the first few times, and she was glad she had.

  Though she still gave all the credit for this find to the sweet black cat who currently licked his paws, seemingly ignoring the two women.

  “It’s a hobby since my husband prefers me to stay at home versus working.”

  Annabel snapped her gaze to the woman who she suspected couldn’t be more than twenty-one. “Husband?”

  Tara tucked her hair behind her ears, showing off huge diamond earrings and one hell of a wedding ring. “I’ve only been married for ten months. But I’m four months pregnant, and we can afford for me to be a full-time mom. I took up treasure hunting so I didn’t go stark raving mad twiddling my thumbs since Blaine, that’s my husband, is an old-fashioned turd.”

  Annabel stifled a laugh.

  Tara leaned over and petted Trouble, who had perched himself on one of the boxes. “Blaine is the best husband ever. He’s sweet, kind, and sexy as hell for an older man. However, he has one quality that makes me insane; he wants me to do nothing. He says his wife shouldn’t have to do anything. Most women think they would love to be in my shoes. A cleaning lady, a cook, a driver. You name it, my husband provides it, but I’m not an invalid, and I’m slowly working on retraining his sorry ass. I’ll get there; I’m sure of it.”

  Annabel couldn’t decide if Tara was lonely, or just really friendly, considering she dumped her entire life’s problems on Annabel in less than two minutes. Quickly, she glanced at her phone for the time. “How does he feel about you being a treasure hunter?”

  Tara shrugged. “He’s fine with it as long as I don’t lift boxes since I’m pregnant.” She nodded to the limo. “I’m never alone, so I always have help with that.”

  Annabel couldn’t help wondering if Tara had many friends. “Can I ask where you sell all the stuff you collect?”

  “I don’t sell it. I donate it to charities, depending on what I find. This last one was filled with all sorts of great furniture and home décor. I gave it mostly to Habitat for Humanity. There was also a couple of boxes of kid’s clothes, so that’s going to my charity.”

  In just a few sentences, Annabel had changed her view of Tara completely.

  “That’s impressive,” Annabel said. “What’s your charity?”

  Tara held out a business card. “I created a foundation last year for abused women and children. We do a lot of different things and if…”

  “Wait, you’re Mr. Rivers’ wife?”

  “I am. How do you know my husband?”

  “My father works for him. He’s a lawyer at Person, Fechner, and Wilder.” Annabel’s father had talked often and fondly of Blaine, even when he’d taken a bride nearly twenty years younger, something her father didn’t understand. However, he’d changed his tune when he’d met Blaine’s wife, saying she was a real go-getter and would help change the world.

  “Small world. What’s your dad’s name?”

  “Max Wilder. He’s one of the managing partners.”

  Tara smiled and nodded. “He’s such a nice man, and he talks about you nonstop and how excited he was that you came home. I feel like I know you. You’ll have to come over for lunch or dinner sometime. I insist.”

  “I’d like that,” Annabel said, and she meant it. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Any idea why a man would have all this wedding stuff?”

  “Maybe he bought and sold, or had a used wedding shop? Who knows. I’ve seen all kinds in this place, and I’m sure everyone thinks I’m the odd, eccentric one considering my husband’s net worth, and here I am buying other people’s forgotten items.”

  “Good point,” Annabel said, rummaging through her purse and pulling out the roll of packing tape she’d gotten from the postal office. “Keep it. I’ve got tons.”

  Tara took it in her hands and smiled. “Thanks. Stay in touch.”

  “Will do.”

  Tara scratched Trouble before disappearing into her own storage space.

  I’m brilliant at what I do and part of that means I can sense things before they happen, and something isn’t quite right. I sit in front of the headless mannequin. The dress is a little too frilly, typical of Americans, but it isn’t the gown that has my detective nose on high alert, it’s the way that it’s displayed over the rest of them.

  Not to mention the bent ring.

  I rise up on my hind legs, getting a closer look. It would take brute force to bend a quality ring. I pat it with my paw.

  Hard and cold, as a good ring should be.

  I know even the highest quality of gold is still a soft metal and can bend and be scratched, but not mangled, at least not easily.

  Perhaps if someone had tossed it violently against a wall?

  Run it over with a motorcycle?

  Either of those events could have caused the damage, and some others. A detective’s job is to keep an open mind to the possibilities while finding the answers.

  I lower myself, circling the dress once again.

  I make my way to the back of the unit where more dresses hang on a rack. It disturbs me that they are smooshed together, haphazardly, and while the dresses aren’t any more elegant, they aren’t damaged. If whoever owned this unit before Annabel had any intention of selling these items, parading one of lesser quality made no sense.

  Then again, humans make little sense.

  I stroll through the unit, stopping at each box and item. So many precious things sitting in a dark, damp, musty storage unit instead of being appreciated as the finer things in life should be. While I’m still not a fan of weddings, this is one wedding caper that needs solving, and I’m just the cat for the job.

  Nothing like a little mystery while on vacation.

  Annabel continued to go through the boxes where she found garter belts, white shoes,
wedding purses, and even unopened wedding gifts that she couldn’t bring herself to tear into. It felt invasive. As if she were peering into the privacy of perfect strangers.

  From all the jewelry she’d found, she selected five rings, two pearl necklaces, and a diamond necklace that she tucked into a velvet bag and carefully placed them in a box that contained wedding invitations, cards, a couple of notebooks, and what looked like invoices or receipts of some kind.

  She glanced over her shoulder, staring at the mannequin. It seemed odd that a dress with a rip and damaged ring would be displayed so prominently. Taking the bent band off the plastic finger, she tucked it into the pouch.

  Her hands shook as she closed the storage unit. She couldn’t get to the jewelry store fast enough. As she drove through the gate, Trouble in her lap, she tried to contain her nerves. Even if the rings were costume jewelry, the wedding dresses alone should bring in a few grand. She took the corner onto Route 1 with a little too much gusto, and Trouble let her know as he dug his claws into her pants and meowed.

  “Sorry, buddy,” she said, rubbing that spot behind his ears that always made him purr. An engine roared from behind her and before she could even glance in the rearview mirror, something smacked into the side of her car, sending her crashing onto the curb.

  Pumping the brakes, she screamed. A dark-blue car sped by. As she pulled her car to the side of the road, she tried to make out the license plate number, but she could only get three letters: ABT, and she couldn’t be sure of those. “Damn. Are you okay, Trouble?” She picked up the cat, who squirmed. She set him on the passenger seat, and he immediately pressed his paws on the dashboard. “Car’s gone,” she muttered.

  “Are you okay?” someone shouted, standing in front of her vehicle. “I called the police.”

  She rolled down the window. “Thank you. I think I’m fine.”

  “Your car isn’t,” the man said. “Police should be here soon. Hang tight.”