Wed or Alive

by Laura Durham

She looked down at my hand and gave me an impatient look until I removed it. “There are a lot of secrets in this family that aren’t quite secret.”

  Val continued her dramatic exit down the hall followed by her cousin, who cast an apologetic look over her shoulder.

  “I’m taking it there are a lot of closets filled with skeletons around here,” Daniel said when he, Richard, and Reese joined me outside the bedroom.

  “Let’s hope not literally,” I said. With my track record for stumbling onto dead bodies, an actual skeleton falling out of a closet wasn’t so farfetched. I headed toward the stairs. “We should go talk to this Tarek guy.”

  “Probably,” Reese said. “But what’s our pretense? I’m supposed to be a wine guy, and Daniel is a florist.”

  “He doesn’t know that.” I lowered my voice. “Tell him you’re with the security team, and you need to ask him some questions in light of what’s happened. With the way you two look, he won’t doubt you for a second.”

  “What about me?” Richard asked. “Are you saying I wouldn’t be convincing as a security officer?”

  I paused at the top of the curving staircase, thinking how best to phrase my next sentence so I wouldn’t be on Richard’s bad side for the next month.

  “I think you’d be convincing,” Reese said before I could speak. “You should come with us.”

  “It’s nice to know some people notice my versatility.” Richard gave Reese a brief smile and me a dirty look as he started down the stairs. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know, Annabelle.”

  I didn’t know whether to hug Mike for trying to include Richard or punch him for making me look like the bad guy in comparison.

  When we’d reached the foyer, I pointed to the hall leading to the right. “Why don’t you three wait in Mr. Hamilton’s study? Since the bride’s father is off paying the ransom, it should be empty. I’ll bring Tarek to you so no one will see you with him and wonder what you’re all doing.”

  “And you?” Reese asked. “What if someone sees you escorting him inside?”

  “I’m the wedding planner,” I said. “I can tell anyone what to do and no one will think twice about it.”

  The three men walked in one direction and I went in the other, passing through the casual dining room and kitchen and stepping out the French doors and onto the terrace. The man turned when he heard me behind him, and I was struck by how attractive he was up close.

  His sandy hair was wavy and a little long, curling up around the nape of his neck, and his was the kind of tan you got from being outside and not from a bronzer or a bottle. His eyes were a warm brown, and the skin around them crinkled when he smiled at me. I could see why Mrs. Hamilton would be attracted to him.

  “Maybe you can help me,” he said, clicking his phone off. “I’m here to see Deborah.”

  “Mrs. Hamilton?” I beckoned for him to come with me. “I’ll take you to her.”

  I retraced my steps back through the house with Tarek Nammour behind me and directed him to the heavy wooden doors leading to Mr. Hamilton’s study. He eyed them and hesitated.

  “I need you to wait here while I get her.”

  He pushed open the doors and slipped inside where I knew Daniel, Mike, and Richard would be waiting. I caught the door before it closed and pushed it open so I could listen at the crack.

  “Who are you all?” Mr. Nammour asked.

  “We’re with Mr. Hamilton’s security team, and we have a few questions for you,” Daniel said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  I heard the sound of creaking leather and assumed Tarek sat down on one of the brown leather sofas. “I know what happened to Veronica. My wife and Deborah Hamilton are best friends, so she called after it happened.”

  “And that was the first you were aware of the kidnapping and ransom?” Mike asked.

  “Of course. You don’t think I’m somehow connected to this because Stephen and I are professional rivals, do you?”

  “Don’t try to play the unsuspecting innocent with us, buster,” Richard said, sounding less like a security officer than anyone I’d ever heard. “Just because you’re insanely good-looking and have the body of a Greek god doesn’t mean you’ll get away with it.”

  I put my head in my hands. At least Richard’s involvement hadn’t been my idea. My boyfriend had no one to blame but himself for this one.

  “What my associate means is we aren’t accusing you of anything, sir.” Daniel’s voice sounded firm. “We are, however, interested in your timeline for today.”

  “Timeline? You mean what I’ve been doing?” The man took a breath. “I played some golf this morning, then went home. I’ve been home with my wife while she got ready for the wedding until I came over here. My golf buddies can back me up, as can my wife.”

  “Would you be surprised to know Mr. Hamilton named you as the person he says has the most to gain from this kidnapping and ransom request?” Mike asked.

  “What? That’s absurd.”

  “Not as absurd as you might like it to be,” Richard said.

  I wondered if I should run in the room and tackle him before he could speak again.

  “What?” Tarek sounded confused, not that I blamed him.

  “Who’s in my husband’s study?” Mrs. Hamilton asked as she came down the stairs still in her robe, but with her hair in loose curls around her shoulders.

  “Exactly what I was wondering, Mrs. Hamilton,” I said, raising my voice to a near shout. “Who’s in there?”

  She pushed past me into the room, spotted Tarek Nammour, and ran toward him. He stood up and took her in his arms as she dissolved into tears.

  “It’s going to be fine, Deborah,” Tarek said as he stroked her hair. “All of this is going to work out.”

  She sobbed harder.

  Richard, Daniel, and Mike drifted toward the door as I backed further into the hallway, bumping into someone and turning around to see the bride’s father glowering over me at his wife.

  “In my own house?” Mr. Hamilton bellowed, pushing me to one side as he charged into the room.

  His wife stepped out of Tarek’s embrace, spinning to meet her husband with equal fire. “Now I can’t even be consoled by a friend?”

  “Is that what we’re calling it now?” Mr. Hamilton’s laugh was rough. “Consoling?”

  Richard hurried out of the room and clutched my arm. “Do you think we have time to pop some popcorn?”

  “This is rich,” Mrs. Hamilton threw back her head. “Are you really getting angry at me for being unfaithful?”

  “I don’t care who you sleep with, dear,” her husband spat out his words, “as long as it’s not him.”

  Tarek took a step toward his rival. “Don’t you talk to her like that.”

  “Do you think this is going to get ugly?” I said to Richard. “Should we call the police?”

  Richard held up two fingers. “One, it’s already ugly. And two?” He pointed to Daniel and Mike as they backed toward us, their eyes on the exploding love triangle. “We have our own cops.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Mr. Hamilton jabbed a finger in his wife’s direction. “I’m off paying the ransom to save our daughter, and you’re carrying on behind my back.”

  “You’re the reason Veronica was kidnapped in the first place,” Mrs. Hamilton screamed. “All of this is your fault.”

  “And I suppose it’s my fault you’re sleeping with your best friend’s husband?” Mr. Hamilton matched his wife’s volume, and I backed further away.

  Mrs. Hamilton narrowed her eyes until they were slits. “At least I didn’t sleep with the help.”

  Her husband’s mouth dropped open, as Tarek stared back and forth between the pair. I suspected this was more than he’d bargained for when he’d started the affair or decided to pop over to the house.

  Richard’s grip on my arm tightened. “I’ve seen telenovelas with less drama than this.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “If someone turns out to have an evil twin
, I’m out of here.”

  Chapter 22

  “Well, that was awkward,” Richard said as we regrouped with Daniel and Mike in the foyer.

  We could still hear raised voices as the Hamiltons argued, but standing in the doorway and watching them rip into each other had seemed voyeuristic, so I’d hustled everyone out and closed the study doors to muffle the sounds. Even now, my first instinct was to protect my client and keep the wedding day humming along.

  “You know who would be in her element?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Kate,” Richard said, not meeting my eyes.

  I cleared my throat to keep my voice from cracking. “Although with her Jedi skills when it comes to romantic entanglements, I’m surprised she didn’t call some of this earlier. She can usually tell if people are having an affair or are in love at fifty paces.”

  “Did she spend much time with the Hamiltons together?” Richard asked.

  “You’re right. She didn’t.” I felt my eyes water as I thought fondly of Kate and how she’d predicted my relationship with Reese before I was even sure he liked me. I forced myself to think positively. “Good thing she’ll be back soon, and I can fill her in on all the drama she’s missed.”

  Richard twisted to face Mike. “How long until we should expect Veronica and Kate to be let go?”

  Reese exchanged a look with his brother before answering. “If the kidnappers got what they wanted, it shouldn’t be long.”

  “Good.” Richard nodded brusquely. “I, for one, have a five-course Venetian dinner to pull off, and these shenanigans have been more than a little distracting.”

  I pulled the wedding day schedule out of my dress pocket and flipped through the crinkled pages. “We shouldn’t be too far behind, and it’s not like we stopped setup. I’m sure once the bride is back, we can make up time somewhere. Maybe we cut the cocktail hour to forty-five minutes instead of an hour?”

  Richard sucked in air. “You want to cut my cocktail hour? After all the time I spent coming up with the specialty cocktails and customizing the hors d’oeuvres?”

  “How do you customize an hors d’oeuvre?” Reese asked me out of the side of his mouth.

  “For one thing, they aren’t technically called hors d’oeuvres.” Richard put his hands on his hips. “The Venetians call their small bites cicchetti. I’m serving one dish I found in a Venetian cookbook from the 1300s, and I’m pairing it with the perfect cocktail: a Campari spritzer made with Prosecco.”

  “Richard likes to be historically accurate with his cuisine,” I explained.

  “My cicchetti can’t be rushed, Annabelle,” Richard said. “Can you take time from someplace else? What about the ceremony? Those things can really drag on.”

  I leveled my eyes at him. “You want me to cut out the part where the couple legally gets married? The entire point of the day?”

  “Not cut it out, darling. Just trim the fat.” He made cutting motions with two fingers. “Snip, snip.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, knowing I had zero intention of shortening the ceremony. Officiants were rarely receptive to suggestions they cut out scripture readings in favor of custom cocktails.

  Daniel turned to his brother. “I’d like to check on the other victim. Maybe she’s regained consciousness enough to give us some information. Even if Kate and your bride come back, we still have to deal with the attempted murder.”

  Since Sherry had survived, it was easy for me to forget that killing her had most likely been the aim of the attack. This was no small matter since no one had left the property, which meant we still had a violent criminal running loose.

  “Do you want to come with us?” Reese asked, resting a hand lightly on my back.

  I took out my phone and glanced at the time, feeling a nervous flutter that we were just over an hour away from when guests might start arriving. “I’d better go with Richard and check the reception and dinner setup. If the bride reappears soon, everything will move pretty fast, and we need to be ready.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips to my cheek in a quick kiss. “Okay, but don’t go anywhere alone. We’ve already had two people kidnapped and one attacked. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Richard linked his arm through mine. “Don’t worry, Detective. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  I wasn’t sure if this was truly comforting to him, but Reese patted Richard on the shoulder and thanked him.

  “So,” I said as Richard led me through the casual dining room and kitchen, “you and Reese seem to be making friends.”

  Richard gave me a side-eye glance. “I wouldn’t go that far, but he has shown an appreciation for my talents lately. Something certain people could learn from.”

  I ignored the not-so-subtle dig.

  Richard opened the French doors leading outside, and I shielded my eyes as we stepped onto the back terrace leading to the pool deck. The sun sat lower in the sky but still burned brightly, warming my skin and making me miss the air conditioning of the house almost instantly. I enjoyed the fact that the June sun didn’t set until after eight o’clock in the evening, but that also meant more hours of heat. I took a breath, inhaling both humidity and smoke in equal measure. I put a hand over my nose and coughed.

  “Sorry.” Aunt Connie stood a few feet away and waved a hand to dissipate the cloud of cigarette smoke surrounding her. “I know it’s a bad habit. My daughter gives me all kinds of grief about it. Says I should know better, especially since I’m a nurse.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, stifling another urge to cough. “I know it’s been a rough day.”

  The woman dropped her cigarette and ground it under her foot into one of the beige paving stones. “I keep saying I’m going to quit, then the first time something stresses me out, I run right back.”

  I tried not to focus on the cigarette butt I would now need to come back out and clean off the terrace before guests arrived. “I get it.”

  “Any word?” Aunt Connie asked, a furrow forming between her eyes.

  “Well, Mr. Hamilton delivered the ransom, so we’re hoping Veronica and my assistant will be released soon.”

  “Good. He’s put my sister through plenty, so this is the least he could do for her and his daughter.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I smiled. Richard’s phone trilled and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket, sighing when he saw the name on the screen.

  “What on earth could it be this time, Leatrice?” He paused to listen. “Hermes’s bedtime is whenever he falls asleep. He’s a dog.”

  Aunt Connie looked a little confused as she walked past us into the house.

  “No, I don’t think he’ll be permanently scarred if he watches Old Yeller. You aren’t taking him to a movie theatre, are you?”

  I took a few steps closer to the pool, which was now penguin-free, and wondered where the little animals were hanging out. My eyes drifted to the pool house at the far end of the pool, which looked like a Tuscan villa that had been shrunk. This was where we had all of the performers staged, along with their food, so it made sense the penguins were hiding out in there, although I doubted they ate luncheon meat or snickerdoodles.

  My own stomach growled as I thought about food, and I realized it had been hours since I’d eaten a bite. This happened to me at almost every wedding, because I got too busy to think about food until I was light-headed. My stomach was making noises loud enough to be heard by Richard.

  “Good heavens,” he said, holding his hand over his phone. “Was that you?”

  Before I could defend myself, I caught a glimpse of one of the waiters walking through the reception tent. I recognized the gait as being distinctively female, although the waiter had boy-cut blond hair. This in and of itself wasn’t something notable, but something in the stride made me squint my eyes to get a better look.

  The waiter looked up and locked eyes with me, and I gasped. The blonde in the bistro apron ran from the large dinner tent into the draped one ne
xt to it, disappearing behind a wall of fabric.

  I rushed over to Richard and shook his arm. “I just saw Tina Pink dressed up like one of your waiters.”

  Richard lowered the phone from his ear. “What? That’s impossible. What would that disgraced wedding planner be doing here?”

  “Revenge,” I said, feeling my heart pound. “What if this entire kidnapping doesn’t have anything to do with the Hamiltons, but is really an elaborate plot to get back at us? What if Tina Pink is the one holding Kate hostage?”

  Chapter 23

  “Come on.” I pulled Richard with me as I ran around the side of the pool toward the two reception tents. “We need to see if I’m right and that really was Tina Pink or if I’m losing my mind.”

  “Can’t both of those be true?”

  I led the way through the open sides of the dinner tent, weaving my way between the ornately decorated tables topped with towering floral and feather arrangements. The chandeliers were illuminated, and the lighting team had focused the pin spots so light now sparkled off the gilded and jeweled masks sitting on every plate.

  “Don’t bump the tables,” Richard yelled from behind me as I sucked in my stomach and squeezed between the gold ladder-backed chairs crowned with organza-beaded chair caps.

  I made it through the gauntlet of tables and chairs and reached the draped entrance to the cocktail tent, pulling back the heavy crimson fabric and stepping into the second, smaller tent. I paused inside and let my eyes adjust to the lower lighting for a moment.

  While the dinner tent was bathed in light and filled with crystal, white feathers, and glimmering gold, Buster and Mack had designed the cocktail tent to reflect the mysterious and sultry side of Carnival. Surrounded by crimson fabric walls, the space had a black-and-white checkerboard floor with gold scroll-patterned light reflected onto both it and the high-peaked ceiling. A mirrored bar stretched across the far end of the tent, and tall cocktail tables draped in black-sequined linens were scattered throughout.

  I felt the air conditioning pumping into the tent from two units in the back, and the beads of sweat that had gathered at the nape of my neck immediately cooled. Guests would welcome this cool space after the ceremony in the open tent with only fans to move the air.