Erik gave his fiancé's hand a squeeze and their eyes met. There was a lot of love between them. It was palpable. If they could survive this, they could survive anything.
Would Kitty ever have a partner like that?
The first run through was getting underway and Kitty ushered the bridesmaids and groomsmen accordingly, as everyone walked their paces and took their places just as they would tomorrow during the wedding.
For a moment Kitty got lost in the joyous event. She lived for weddings. To see two lovers vow their lifelong commitment of loyalty, faithfulness, and unconditional respect for one another was moving no matter how many times she witnessed it. And soon she felt her eyes sting with tears of happiness.
Kitty snapped out of it when the priest called her name for the third time. All eyes were on her.
“Oh! Let’s take a ten-minute bathroom break, everyone! Then we’ll reconvene and run through this again!”
The families dispersed. The Coburns ventured outside into the sunlight, and the Maples took a rest in the pews. Kitty noticed some of the bridesmaids began flirting with select groomsmen, but she locked her gaze on Becca.
Mandy had made a point to avoid her bridesmaid out of resentment, even though Erik established that Becca had lied, thoroughly and completely.
Then Kitty watched Derek. He was alone and milling around a statue of the Virgin Mary, though it seemed Becca was acutely aware of him. She kept staring then returning her gaze to the two bridesmaids beside her who were involved in a humorous conversation that had them breaking out into giggles every few seconds.
Mandy should’ve approached Derek by now. What was she waiting for?
Kitty pictured Sterling outside in his surveillance van trying to explain this to his team. She had half a mind to walk up to the best man-by-proxy and really grill him, but it’d do no good. She wasn’t wearing a wire. Only Mandy was.
Then Becca traipsed over to Derek, glanced over her shoulder to be certain no gossips were looking on, and then gave his arm a little squeeze. Becca then led Derek toward the back exit, which Kitty happened to know led to a dark corridor that further led to the priest’s chamber. It was a quiet place to talk and Kitty needed to know what they were planning to say to each other once there.
When they disappeared around the corner, Kitty padded over, holding the puffy tulle of her yellow dress so it wouldn’t rustle noisily. At the doorway she paused, leaning against the wall and eyeing her cell phone as though that was what she’d gone there to do.
Derek and Becca were whispering, but Kitty was just close enough to overhear.
“They found my car,” Becca yelled in a distressed whisper. “Why did you change the valet log?”
“I had to!”
“But my car was stolen, you idiot! The second you changed the log you made it seem like I was lying to cover something up!”
“I was protecting you!”
“Well, it backfired!”
“It didn’t. They still think Erik did it,” he said to reassure her.
“Do they?” she challenged. “Because I don’t know if you noticed, but Erik is standing out there so, hate to break it to you, they didn’t arrest him!”
“They will.”
“What makes you so sure?” she demanded. When he didn’t answer she said, “I shouldn’t have tried to protect you. No one’s buying that I had an affair with Erik. This is a God damn mess.”
“Why did you? I don’t need protection!”
“Don’t you get it? He’s too good. Someone’s going down for Johnny’s murder and it won’t be him!”
“I need to think! Just quiet, be quiet so I can think!”
Derek was clearly panicking, but why would he if neither of them had had anything to do with Johnny’s death? Kitty was confused and leaned in closer.
“We have to find a way to put that deal under the detective’s nose.”
“No way, Derek!” Becca objected. “Your signature is on that deal as well!”
“What else am I supposed to do?”
“Nothing! We do nothing and let the chips fall where they may!”
“Don’t you get how bad this is? He meant to kill me not Johnny! He knows I’m alive. It’s only a matter of time!”
“Then why don’t you go to the police?!”
“It won’t matter where I go, he can get to me. I could be shipped off into witness protection and he’d find me!”
“You know what kills me in all this?” she asked. “Kitty was right, but she was so far off.”
“What do you mean?”
“She thought he wanted to kill Erik out of jealousy that Erik was marrying Mandy.”
“But he meant to kill me because I double crossed him on that deal,” he added. “Poor Johnny.”
“Why would he think you were driving Erik’s car?”
Derek sighed. “I told him it was my car. I was bragging.”
“Let’s meet tonight,” she suggested, but then they began speaking so quietly Kitty couldn’t hear a thing.
She stepped away from the doorway and wandered in a daze toward the procession. A deal? What deal? What could Derek have possibly been involved in that someone wanted want him dead? And who was the killer?
He must be right under Kitty’s nose, but she had no idea where to begin.
Chapter Ten
“He doesn’t know what the hell he wants!”
“Who? Sterling?” It was Trudy’s turn to stretch out on the couch like a siren, so she did, as she tried to figure out what the detective had done this time.
“Who else?” Kitty topped off her glass with Shiraz, making the generous serving even more generous. She set the bottle down, swatted at yellow tulle, which seemed to be billowing up all around her, and then took a few careful sips to alleviate the risk of spilling all over herself. “All he does is run hot and cold with me, pulling me in then pushing me away. He threatened to leave after this case, you know, because of me. How am I supposed to take that? I’ll tell you how I’m taking it—it’s given me serious pause when it comes to telling him what I learned about Johnny’s murder.”
“What did you learn?” Trudy asked, sitting up with intrigue, or to drink her wine, Kitty couldn’t quite tell.
“I overheard Derek Coburn, the groom’s brother talking with Becca. Unless it was a ruse, which I doubt, they didn’t do it. But they know who did,” she explained feeling suddenly conflicted. Should she really withhold this from Sterling just because of their personal friction? All told, unlike the von Winkle - Astoria fiasco, this time Sterling really seemed to have made an improvement in terms of working with Kitty and including her, or at least acknowledging she had her ways and was an effective investigator. Ugh, she was torn.
“Kitty, the wedding is tomorrow,” Trudy said, pointing out the obvious that already had Kitty’s heart in her throat. “You can’t have a killer hiding in plain sight during the nuptials. It gives me the creeps just thinking about it.”
“Me too, but I’m at a loss. I’ve been following phony leads that have gotten me nowhere.”
“That’s not true,” Trudy countered, sitting up to better state her uplifting argument. “If everything you’ve done up until this point led you to overhear a conversation where Derek reveals a few clues—”
“I can’t act on them,” she balked. “They aren’t concrete.”
“But one thing is, Kitty,” her friend went on, leaning forward, elbows on knees, as though her wine glass were a microphone. “Derek knows who did it. And no one’s better at cozying up to a stranger and getting them talking than you.”
“I don’t know,” said Kitty, hesitating at the suggestion. “Derek’s in love with Mandy and she couldn’t get him talking. Sterling had set her up with a wire and everything. She couldn’t get him to make one peep.”
Trudy pondered that then shrugged. “When a man loves a woman he won’t allow her to see him in anything but the very best light. Derek probably doesn’t want Mandy thinking badly of him,
thinking he’s close with a killer, involved in a business deal no less. He might not have such a hard time opening up to you, especially if the alternative is that Sterling will eventually come pounding on his door.”
Kitty mulled that over, as she drank more wine, which seemed to be helping to both calm her nerves and inspire her to be bold and act fast.
“Ok,” she said, feeling pumped. “I’ll go after this glass.”
“Not to Sterling,” Trudy warned. “To Derek.”
“To Derek, and then to Sterling,” she plotted.
“Kitty…”
“Ugh,” Kitty groaned at the admonishment, visions of her horizontal flirtation with Sterling springing to mind, those strong hands sliding up her leg, the brush of his lips against hers, Sterling kissing her neck. “Change of topic!”
“That bad, huh?”
“Dare I ask how things went with Julio?” said Kitty, grimacing at her terrible slip up. “I’m mortified, by the way.”
“He certainly wasn’t the dashing real estate hero you’d sold me on,” said Trudy with a sense of humor.
“Was it awkward?”
“To the point of painful,” she added.
“Oh dear.” Kitty winced so hard her eyes pinched shut. “Were you in and out?”
A wicked grin came over Trudy. “You could say he was.”
“Huh?”
“You know.” Trudy winked.
“I’m not sure I do,” she said, blankly, then gasped when it dawned on her. “You didn’t!”
“Nothing breaks the ice like a good...” she winked twice. “What?” Trudy exclaimed, seeing Kitty’s dropped jaw. “He’s a good looking guy!”
“He is? I never met him.”
Trudy straightened her back, satisfied with herself, and topped off her glass.
“Are you seeing him again?” Kitty asked, though she was afraid to. She’d been learning a lot about Trudy and her knack for plowing through men.
“Who knows,” she shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I was still interested.”
“Are you telling me you lost interest after one night?”
“One afternoon, but yeah, I guess I am. It happens.”
“My goodness, Trudy. There aren’t enough men in this city!”
“Well, if you ask me,” said Trudy, speaking plainly. “You ought to give Sterling a roll in the hay. It’ll help get him out of your system. It’ll demystify him. It’ll clear your head. You’ll feel better.”
Kitty didn’t know about that. Not that she was judging Trudy, but Kitty tended to become more attached to the men she slept with, not less. It was certainly food for thought, though. She’d have a hard think on it. In a lot of ways she already had been, though she categorized it as fantasizing.
“Anyway,” Trudy went on. “That’s just my opinion. Tell me about this Hank character.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I’m single and ready to mingle!”
“You still want to meet him?”
“Can you set it up?” Trudy asked, excitedly.
“Looks like this is going to be a very long night.” Kitty downed the rest of her wine, which was an ambitious task, and then set the glass on the coffee table. “Better head out.”
“Good luck!” Trudy said, as she walked Kitty to the door. “You might want a wardrobe change.”
Kitty glanced down at her yellow dress and wondered if she had time to go home. The clock in the hall read 10:18 p.m. and she didn’t want to drop in on Derek too late, but it’d be worth it to be in a pair of comfortable shoes.
“Good point,” she said.
Kitty made the stop at her little blue house on Orchard Street fast. After rushing through the front door, she kicked off her heels. She scurried toward her bedroom, unzipping her dress and discarding it as she went, and then threw on a pair of black ballet flats and a draping grey dress. In no time, she was rushing out the door and climbing into her Fiat. At this hour, it’d take mere minutes to get to the Delamar where she knew Derek was staying. She hoped he’d be there, be awake, and be willing to spill.
She wondered if the killer was staying at the same hotel, and then shuddered at the thought.
As Kitty pulled up to the valet in front of the hotel, a middle-aged man quickly approached her vehicle. He had black hair and tan skin that looked like creamy coffee.
“Are you Julio?” Kitty asked, stepping out of her Fiat as he held the door.
“Yes,” he said, trying to place her.
“I’m Kitty Sinclair,” she smiled. “We spoke on the phone. I heard you had a nice time with my friend Trudy.”
“Ah yes, Miss Trudy is a wonderful woman,” he mused and seemed to slip off into memories of his afternoon romp.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Oh, I’d love to see her again,” he offered. “Anytime! Tomorrow! Tonight in fact!”
Yikes!
“She may be asleep by now,” she said, apologetically. “I wanted to ask about a vehicle that was parked here a few days ago. A black Lexus. The right side was damaged—not here!” She quickly added in case she’d sounded blameful. “I already spoke with one of your employees and when we looked in the vehicle log the driver’s name was blacked out. Were you here when that car was dropped off?”
“I was,” he said, remembering easily.
“Do you know who dropped it off? Do you know their name?”
He thought hard for a moment then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I would’ve written it in the log.”
“Which was blacked out,” she supplied. “Do you remember what the person looked like? Was it a man or a woman?”
“A man,” he said quickly.
“So you got a good look at him?”
“We didn’t speak other than a brief greeting, but I remember his general description.”
Kitty raised her brows expectantly.
“He was not too tall for a man, maybe 5’7” or 5’8”. Dressed very well.”
That could be anyone at this hotel especially considering the wedding. All the guests had been dressed to the nines since they’d arrived days ago.
“Brown eyes,” he went on. “They were deep set, but he was a good looking guy. Wide jaw. No bump on his nose, straight mouth.”
Kitty smiled her appreciation but realized how useless verbal descriptions were. This was precisely why the police used sketch artists. Sterling came to mind, but she pushed him from her thoughts. If he was only going to leave after he solved this case, well then she wasn’t about to help him, not directly, not outright. Hell, she’d do it all herself. Of course she had been planning on paying him a visit after she spoke with Derek. Maybe she still would, but for personal reasons...
“I wish there was more I could tell you,” he apologized.
“No, no, that was very helpful.”
“Did he damage that car?” Julio asked, now invested.
“I believe so, yes. And he didn’t have permission to drive it.”
“He stole it!”
“I believe so,” said Kitty, as she produced a few bills to tip him with.
Julio declined her money. “Please, Kitty. You’ve already given me so much by introducing me to Miss Trudy. Please.”
“Alright,” she said with a smirk. “Have a great night!”
Kitty stopped at the front desk inside to confirm with one of the night clerks that Derek Coburn was staying in Room #116.
“Would you like me to announce you?” asked the clerk, lifting a phone to his ear.
“I prefer you didn’t,” she said kindly. “Important wedding business to attend to.”
He cocked his head at that, not quite understanding, but lowered the phone and didn’t press her.
Room #116 was on the first floor just off of the lounge, she realized. Derek’s room, as well as the others that lined that side of the hotel, had not only a beautiful view of the harbor, but sliding glass doors that enabled the guest to exit their room directly onto the hotel terrace that furt
her led to the marina.
Easy comings and goings, she noted. But wouldn’t that concern a man who knew the killer had made two failed attempts on his life? How could Derek possibly keep what he knew from the police? It was the very definition of insanity.
She knocked quietly on the door then pressed her ear to it. Deep within she heard movement so she knocked again, this time louder. Footsteps approached the door, but it didn’t open. Again, she knocked, very softly, and called out, “Derek? It’s Kitty Sinclair.”
“It’s late, Kitty,” he called out. “What do you want?”
“Can I come in?”
“What for?”
“It’s my duty to make sure the rings are still in your possession.”
She heard him sigh through the door then he unlatched the lock and eased it open.
“I know it’s late,” she said, sympathetically. “But this is part of my job.”
“You couldn’t have come sooner?” he grumbled, letting her inside.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve made an effort to, but time slipped away. You’d be surprised how much I end up doing the night before a wedding.”
Like drinking and gossiping and catching killers.
Kitty turned to face him when she reached the foot of the bed. The room was modest in size, but decorated handsomely and the view of the harbor outside, the sparkling water and twinkling yacht lights, were breathtaking.
“How are you enjoying your stay?” she asked, keeping things light.
Derek wasted no time opening the top drawer of his dresser and producing a little black box, which contained the two wedding bands for Kitty's approval when he opened it.
“It’s fine here,” he stated without affect like a child wishing to be excused. “Happy?”
“Derek, I’m concerned,” she said gravely.
He looked down at the rings, confused. “What’s wrong with them.”
“It’s not the rings,” she went on, closing the box in his hand. “It’s Johnny’s death, the investigation, the strain it’s caused on the wedding, on Mandy and Erik, on you.”
Derek looked at the floor and his shoulders tensed when he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I’m worried about you, Derek,” she said softly. Then Kitty drew in a deep breath and prepared herself to bluff as best she could. “The police have a description of the killer.”
BRIDE and DOOM (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 2) Page 9
