by Laura Durham
“And the bride,” I reminded them, knowing Veronica hadn’t been their easiest or favorite client.
“Of course,” Buster said. “Her too.”
“We’ve got the entire North American network of the Road Riders for Jesus on the case,” Mack said, taking Daniel’s hand as well. “And then you show up.”
Buster lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “It goes to show you the power of prayer.”
“Didn’t Loverboy call him?” Richard whispered to me.
“Pet names already?” I asked and watched patches of red appear on Richard’s cheeks.
“So who are we going to say he is?” Reese asked, looking at his brother dressed in black. “At least he’s dressed like half the people here setting up the wedding.”
“We can say he’s on our crew,” Mack said. “We always need buff guys to help us with the heavy lifting.”
“So I’m pretending to be a florist?” Daniel asked.
“When it’s this fancy, it’s a design installation,” Buster said. “We’ve got a custom stage and dance floor, not to mention the backdrop behind the band and all the hanging chandeliers.”
His brother leaned closer to him. “Consider yourself lucky. I’m going incognito as a sommelier romantically involved with my boss.”
Richard sniffed and folded his arms across his chest. “You should be so lucky.”
The opera singer who had been practicing earlier strode through the foyer, singing scales with one arm outstretched as he walked. A pair of purple-and-green-striped stilts appeared, being carried horizontally by a man in a matching costume with puffy pantaloons and black tights. The man crossed the foyer and entered the far hallway, the end of the stilts trailing after him.
“This is a wedding, right?” Daniel asked.
“A slightly crazy one, but yes,” Mack said.
“Speaking of crazy, you didn’t run into Sidney Allen on your way here, did you?” I asked Buster and Mack.
“The little fellow who’s losing his mind over his costumes?” Buster asked. “We apologized for borrowing the capes, but he’s insisting we stretched them out.”
Mack rolled his eyes. “How do you stretch out a cape, I ask you?”
“I don’t know, but I hope he finds the doge costumes fast. He’s right when he says we can’t exactly have an authentic doge and his entourage greeting the guests without the doge.” I wondered if there was any truth to Reese’s concerns the missing costumes were connected to the missing bride and Kate, but I couldn’t see how.
“First things first.” Richard held up a finger. “If we don’t have a bride, we don’t have a wedding.”
“We don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Fern said from the doorway leading into the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” I asked, turning to face my friend as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Is the mother of the bride finally giving up the idea of saving this wedding?”
Fern shook his head. “Mr. Hamilton left to make the ransom drop a few minutes ago. If all goes according to plan, Kate and Veronica will be back here soon.”
I exchanged a look with Reese, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. What happened if everything didn’t go according to plan?
Chapter 20
“How long has it been since Mr. Hamilton left?” I asked Fern as Daniel, Mike, and I traipsed upstairs behind him.
“Not long.” Fern glanced over his shoulder when he reached the top of the curving staircase. “So there’s no need to watch the clock yet.”
Easier said than done, I thought. I snuck a peek at my phone. It was already five o’clock. We were getting closer and closer to the ceremony time, and we still were missing a bride. I told myself not to think about the wedding, but that only made me focus on the ransom drop. I wasn’t sure what to think about the bride’s father taking off to pay the ransom since Mike seemed convinced that the poison gas wasn’t the key element of the kidnapping. If he was right, would giving the kidnappers what they claimed to want even matter?
“Anyway, if the bride will be back soon, I need to wrangle her hussies into shape.” Fern tucked a loose strand back into his high man bun.
“Hussies?” Daniel said from behind me.
“That’s what he calls all bridesmaids,” I explained, resting one hand on the gleaming wooden bannister overlooking the spacious foyer. “Unless he’s calling them tramps or floozies.”
Fern winked at Daniel. “I tell them it’s a term of affection.”
“Is it?” Mike asked, resting one hand on the small of my back.
Fern smiled and bobbed his head as he headed down the hallway toward the sound of female voices. “What they don’t know . . .”
“Are we going to hang out with the bridesmaids?” Mike asked. “I could barely pull off being a fake sommelier. There’s no way I can make a convincing hairstylist.”
I laughed. “I thought we’d show your brother the bride’s room since it’s the last place she and Kate were seen. And it keeps both of you tucked away.”
I also needed to get away from the chaos of the wedding setup and the Hamiltons for a few minutes. Between the drama of the wedding and the drama of the bride’s family, not to mention that of my own crew, I was in serious need of some calm within the storm.
I glanced at the framed family portraits hanging on the wall as I followed Fern down the hallway, each of them a picture-perfect vignette of the Hamiltons smiling widely. The only noticeable change in each photo was the gradual aging of the three children and the different outfits—winter sweaters outside in the woods in one, jeans and white T-shirts on the beach in another, blazers and dresses by the fireplace in a third. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton looked remarkably similar from image to image, a testament to the kind of skin care and amount of Botox money could buy.
When we reached Veronica’s bedroom, I waved the two Reese brothers inside. “Why don’t you two take a look around while I poke my head in the bridesmaids’ room for a second?”
Fern stopped further down the hall to wait for me. “Venturing into the belly of the beast?”
“They can’t be that bad,” I said. Since the wedding had such intensive setup, I’d spent less time than usual with the bridesmaids, but I felt confident this group couldn’t be any more challenging than some of my past ones.
“None of them are cold-blooded killers,” Fern said, and I knew he was referencing one of our past weddings and the unfortunate turn of events regarding one member of the bridal party. “At least that we know of.”
“I’m going to take that as a positive,” I said.
“Take the wins where you can get them, sweetie.”
Fern pushed open the door to the room where the bridesmaids were getting ready, and the volume of giggling and chatter increased dramatically. The expansive bedroom I assumed was Val’s had the same layout as the bride’s room with a small sitting nook, and en suite bathroom, and windows overlooking the back of the house. But where Veronica’s room was decorated in neutrals, this room was bathed in shades of purple. From the lavender duvet cover to the plum throw pillows to the violet curtains, it was tone on tone with the ivory carpet as the only thing not purple.
“Wow,” I said.
“It’s like Barney threw up in here, isn’t it?” Fern muttered to me before parading into the room and starting to fuss over the girls.
I noticed the long-haired photographer standing in the corner snapping the occasional getting-ready photo and felt glad she didn’t have a clue the group photos may be taking place sans bride.
“There you are,” one of the bridesmaids said, her words slurring as she lay sprawled across the bed in a shimmery floral robe.
The blonde next to her rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself onto her elbows. “We’re dying of boredom up here.”
For women whose close friend had been kidnapped, they didn’t seem too broken up. I noticed the empty champagne bottles strewn across the nightstand and vanity, along with at least a dozen empty crystal flute
s. Whatever food had been here was long gone.
“Can I bring you any snacks?” I asked, while Fern plopped a girl down onto his stool by the window and began unspooling her curlers.
“You’re one of the wedding planners, right?” A tall woman whose floral robe barely reached mid thigh came out of the bathroom. “The other one checked on us earlier.”
“Kate?” I said.
“Sounds right,” the woman said. “So when do we need to get into our dresses?”
I looked at the row of plastic dry cleaning bags hanging from the top of the bathroom door. I knew they held the long, crimson one-shoulder bridesmaids’ dresses with thin ribbon belts that would be worn once and never again.
“Soon,” I said, attempting to sound more confident than I felt.
The room smelled of hairspray and stale champagne, and as I looked at the Louis Vuitton duffel bags and Longchamp totes with their contents spilling out onto the floor, I wondered who was going to clean up the mess. Even though I’d ended up playing the maid at one too many weddings to count, I had no intention of closing out this wedding day like that.
“I can’t believe Veronica isn’t back yet.” The blond bridesmaid on the bed swung her legs over the side.
“It’s not like she snuck out for a smoke.” The other woman on the bed punched her lightly on the arm. “She’s been kidnapped, remember?”
“I’d kill for a smoke,” a brunette with a tattoo on her ankle said. “I don’t suppose we can do that inside, can we?”
Another bridesmaid wrinkled her nose. “You and your smoking. When are you going to quit?”
“Hey, I’m not the only one.” The brunette ran a hand through her bushy hair, and something about her sparked a flicker of recognition. Had this girl been a bridesmaid in another of our weddings? The DC area was small enough that we got client overlap, especially since most of our business came from word-of-mouth referrals.
The blonde shook her head. “It doesn’t seem real. Why would anyone want to take Veronica?”
“Forget that,” the tall bridesmaid said. “Why would anyone want to keep her?”
“You’re horrible,” the bridesmaid on Fern’s stool said, although she laughed as she said it.
“What? I’m only saying she isn’t the most low-maintenance girl in the world.” The tall woman crossed to the window and pulled the curtain back so she could look outside. “I’m surprised the kidnappers didn’t drive her back within half an hour and drop her off outside the gate.”
All the girls laughed, and Fern raised his eyebrows at me over the bridesmaid’s head as he ran both his hands through her hair to fluff it up. I wasn’t sure if I should add all eight bridesmaids to my mental list of potential suspects, or chalk it up to bitchy brides having bitchy friends.
I caught Fern’s eye and pointed to the door. “I’m going to go check on . . .”
“Go.” He waved a hand at me while he used the other to deposit a cloud of hairspray over the bridesmaid in his chair. “I’ve got this covered.”
I left the room, glad to escape the chatter and hairspray, and returned to the bride’s room where Daniel and Mike both stood at the window. “Anything new?”
Mike turned, smiling when he saw me. “Nothing. Daniel agrees with what we thought.”
“No struggle of any kind.” Daniel walked to the middle of the room and opened his arms wide. “It’s like they vanished.”
“Except for the phones and gummy bear,” I said.
“If Kate was leaving you a trail of candy, she didn’t leave a long one,” Daniel said.
Mike came over and took my fingers. “My brother thinks the gummy bear was accidentally dropped.”
“Oh.” I felt a bit of my hope evaporate. “I guess that makes more sense.”
“There you all are,” Richard said, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You mean aside from the obvious?” Richard’s eyes flitted to my fingers entwined with Reese’s and visibly twitched. “Nothing. I can’t stand the waiting.”
“What are you all doing in here?” the bride’s younger sister asked from the door.
I dropped Reese’s hand and hoped she hadn’t noticed since he was supposed to be involved with Richard, not me. I hadn’t heard her coming down the hall, but the carpet was pretty plush and her feet were bare. Her cousin, Cara, stood behind her.
“Cleaning up some of the empties.” I picked up a champagne bottle. “So your sister comes back to a clean room.”
“It really is a disaster,” Richard said as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. He unfurled a handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket and headed for the cluttered vanity table.
Val didn’t look convinced, but Cara smiled.
“How’s Sherry?” I asked the bride’s cousin.
“Good. She’s still out of it but her vitals are fine, and there doesn’t seem to be much swelling or bleeding.”
“Any chance she can tell us who attacked her?” Daniel asked.
Cara sized him up as she stepped into the room. “And who might you be?”
“I’m with the florist,” he said after a beat, motioning to the box of bouquets at the end of the bed. “I’m checking on the flowers up here before finishing the installation behind the stage.”
I tried not to look as impressed as I felt by Daniel’s use of designer lingo.
“Sounds fancy. I’m sure my aunt and uncle spared no expense for this wedding,” Cara said, not questioning Daniel’s cover story. “And to answer your question, I doubt she’ll be talking anytime soon. My mother is with her now, and I just told her daughter so she can go be with her. If Sherry comes to, they can let us know.”
So much for our one eyewitness. “Her daughter is here? How did she get past security?” How incompetent was this security team?
“She’s a bridesmaid,” Cara said.
The girl with brown hair and the tattoo. I knew I’d recognized her from somewhere. I just hadn’t made the connection to the photo I’d seen in Sherry’s office.
“Stephanie practically grew up here,” Val said. “She’s like family. Better than family, actually, because she’s not a self-absorbed snob like my sister.”
“So you’re not eager to have your sister back?” Daniel asked.
Val slanted her eyes at him. “If you’re trying to suggest I’m happy she was kidnapped, you’re wrong. But I’m not holding my breath she’ll be back. You shouldn’t either.”
“What do you mean?” Richard asked, his handkerchief stopping in mid flutter over the vanity.
“Your father has already gone to pay the ransom,” I said, thinking she might not have heard.
“I know.” Val lifted one shoulder. “My father talks a good game but doesn’t always do what he says he’s going to.”
I felt my mouth go dry. “You think he lied to your mother about paying the ransom?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time he lied to her.”
“Come on, Val,” Cara said, laughing uncomfortably. “I’m sure these people don’t want to hear all the family’s dirty laundry.”
“It’s not like it’s your dirty laundry.” There was an edge to Val’s voice. “It’s not your dad who’s banged every secretary he’s ever had.”
Cara flinched at the sharp reply.
“All of them?” Richard asked, giving me a look of incredulity and dropping his voice. “Well, someone’s certainly been a busy little boy.”
“He’s not picky,” Val said. “And if he’s lied about working late for the past twenty-five years, who knows what else he’s lied about?”
She made a good point. Mr. Hamilton had basically admitted to Reese and Richard that he’d gotten the DOD contract through underhanded means.
“Having an affair is different than leaving your sister in the hands of kidnappers,” I said. “Do you really think he wouldn’t want to save Veronica?”
“Over his own
skin?” Val shrugged. “Who knows? If it was me in Veronica’s place, I’d be hoping for a rescue instead of counting on dear old dad. But she’s always been his favorite child, so who knows?”
None of this made me feel any better about our chances of getting Kate back. I pulled my phone out of my dress pocket and looked at the time. Reese stepped closer to me and touched a finger to the hand by my side, and I knew that was his way of telling me not to worry.
“Hello, handsome,” Richard said.
For a moment I thought he meant Mike. Before I could compliment him for embracing his role, I noticed his line of sight out the window to the pool and yard. I joined him at the window.
“That guy looks way too fresh to be involved in the wedding setup.” Richard eyed the sandy-haired man in khakis and a crisp poppy-colored button-down shirt standing below us on the pool deck and talking on his cell phone. “And I know he isn’t one of mine.”
“He’s not wearing a costume or a mask, so I doubt he’s one of Sidney Allen’s,” I said, watching the man look up at the house and wave.
“He’s wearing designer,” Richard said. “Imported. Custom-made Italian, if I’m not mistaken.”
I squinted at the man. I could barely make out more than the color of his clothing. “How can you tell from all the way up here?”
Richard winked at me. “It’s a gift, darling.”
Daniel and his brother crossed to the window.
“So if he’s not involved with the wedding, why is he loitering outside the house?” Daniel asked.
“Him?” Val peered around my shoulder and gave a dismissive laugh. “That’s the husband of my mother’s best friend and my father’s most bitter rival.”
I tightened my grip on Mike’s hand. Tarek Nammour was here?
“It’s also the man my mother has been sleeping with,” Val called back as she walked out of the room.
Chapter 21
“Hold on a second.” I ran out of the bedroom after Val and caught her by the arm. “You know your mom’s been having an affair?”
