by A. Gardner
"Oh the cupcakes," Dora said. She nodded. "I remember those. Yeah."
"Was it a man?" My chest went tight. I was inches away from fixing this entire mess. "Was he tall or short? Older or younger?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." Dora scratched the side of her head. "I meant I remember those cupcakes. I put them out on the counter and a few minutes later they were gone."
"So you didn't see who collected them?"
"No, ma’am."
"What about security cameras?" I asked. "Would I be able to see the person on one of them?"
"No, ma’am." Dora shook her head, eyeing the camera in the kitchen facing the storage room and freezers. "There's only the one in here facing all our food storage. There isn't one facing the pick-up window."
"Thanks." I sighed, reluctantly stepping out of the kitchen feeling defeated.
In my attempts to take a few steps forward, I'd taken a giant step back. I now knew what I had been hoping wasn't true. Donna's demise was the result of foul play and I wasn't any closer to identifying the killer.
I tugged at the collar of my sweater and took a few strides towards great hall where the ceremony would be taking place tomorrow. It didn't take long before Joy spotted me and sped down the hallway. Her sleeve was unbuttoned revealing the tattoo on her wrist of a yellow hibiscus. It was a tribute to one of the greatest moments of her life, her Hawaiian honeymoon with Wade. Their honeymoon bliss ended the moment they got home, as she repeatedly reminded me.
"You have a rehearsal to attend," she said through her teeth. "Mr. Kentworth is breathing down my neck."
"Unfortunately, I don’t have any updates for you."
"As long as Lila, the cosmetics queen, is happy, and the papers don't get ahold of this story and start giving the resort a bad rep." She looked down at her sleeve and promptly buttoned it closed. "I feel like the second I get a chance to breathe I am going to have a nervous breakdown. I need more coffee."
"Joy, you have to relax sometime." She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead the way she normally did when she was beginning to get a migraine. "Remember Christmas last year?"
"Gosh," she murmured. "Quit bringing that up. That was ages ago."
"Mom hasn't recovered from that yet," I reminded her.
"I was with Wade that Christmas. That dirtbag. He turns me into the biggest idiot in town for some reason. Him and his lame ass ideas."
When Joy reaches a certain stress level she acts much like a tea kettle, and not the cute whistling kind. She tends to boil over the brim and scorch anyone or anything in her path. That was the case last Christmas when she was put in charge of planning Mayor Millbreck's annual Holiday Charity Auction hosted by the resort. She hardly slept for weeks. When Christmas morning came around, my mom woke up and found her and Wade asleep in the middle of the family room on top of a pile of wet shingles. The two of them got so drunk they ended up hauling piles of snow onto the roof to build the world's largest snowman.
The weight of two village idiots and all that extra snow caused the roof to cave in.
Mom had a hard time understanding why someone as seemingly responsible as Joy would have allowed herself to drink that much. My dad, a car enthusiast, said she was “redlining.”
"You've got to slow down before you snap, sis."
"Fine," she agreed. "Since I'm probably going to get fired anyway I'll come home early tonight and try to wind down before the wedding dinner."
"Do you remember where I live?"
"Very funny." She glanced at the time and gasped. "I've got to go, but they're waiting on you to get started."
"Right." I ran my fingers through my long locks and looked down at my jeans to make sure there were no mud stains.
"And, Essie?” Joy added. "Thank you. You really are a life saver."
"What are sisters for?"
CHAPTER NINE
I couldn't take my eyes off of Patrick. He waited at the end of the great room with Pastor Tad in a pair of slacks and a navy sweater that brought out the broadness of his shoulders. His arms were folded as he grinned at his old family friend. Lila wasn't as amused to meet their marriage officiant. She was too busy staring at her cell phone while Franco held her purse and a half empty glass of champagne. Bebe's eyes lit up when she saw me. She glanced over at Lila and rolled her eyes.
"Hey, you're Essie right?" a voice called out behind me. It was Eli making one of his rounds.
"Do you ever actually wait tables like you're supposed to?"
"Not really." He chuckled and handed me a letter. "This came for you."
I glanced down at the envelope. It was plain with no writing on the front except my name spelled in all caps. I studied it, turning it over and searching for a return address or at least a seal of some kind that might tell me where it came from.
"Who from?" I asked.
"I don't know." Eli shrugged. "It was sitting against your locker in the break room. I thought I would bring it to you in case it was important."
"Thanks, Eli." He tilted his head like he was tipping an invisible hat before he walked away.
I took a few steps back towards the grand arched windows facing the parking lot and the Rocky Mountains. I tore open the letter as a ray of sunshine escaped through the glass and pushed its way towards my eyes. I took another step and glanced out the window.
My chest froze.
There it was again – the black BMW. It slowly crept through the parking lot before it turned a corner and headed for the exit. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. My feet were heavy like two useless dumbbells that wouldn’t budge. I gulped. My gut told me that the mystery car was bad news. It kept popping up.
I took a couple of calming breaths and carefully opened the letter, tearing the envelope where it was previously sealed so nothing important ripped. Inside was a plain sheet of paper with only two words typed in an ordinary font.
You're Next.
I kept my eyes glued to the message for fear of looking up and seeing the killer waiting for me with a baseball bat. I forced my calf muscles to relax as my gaze wandered down to one last thing. A smudge on the paper that was light brown in color and looked pretty fresh. I knew what it was instantly. It was peanut butter.
Someone had to be watching me.
It was hard to contain myself. I knew that whoever had sent this could be watching my reaction as I read the threat. I couldn’t give that person the satisfaction of knowing I was freaking out inside. I forced myself to make a straight face and casually folded up the letter, placing it back in its envelope. I'd stepped into a forbidden realm. My questions and personal inquiries were no longer a casual thing. I'd ventured into dangerous territory, and I'd given away my position.
My stomach churned, and I felt queasy just thinking about the fact that someone in Bison Creek was capable of something as sinister as murder. I could hardly control my thumping heart and shaky hands. I closed my eyes. I'd dealt with physical pain like this once before. I could keep it together. I could control my outward appearance, appearing on the outside like I didn't want to run and hide.
Last summer I ran a marathon in Salt Lake City. It was one of the toughest things I have ever done. Near the middle of it, my mind and body engaged in an inner debate that went on for miles. I was fatigued, anxious, and almost defeated. My mind told me I couldn't handle taking another step. That I might collapse if I pushed myself farther. My body didn't agree. It kept moving. It continued to do the impossible with every stride. My legs propelled forward on their own as I contemplated what to do in my head.
In the end, I shut myself up and let my legs do what I'd trained them to do. I wasn't going to quit and my body obeyed my commands until I crossed the finish line. It wasn't until I stopped running that I began to feel all the pain. I'd been in pain the entire time, but I made the choice to temporarily ignore it for a greater reward.
Now I had to do the same thing again.
I had to force my body not to topple over. Not to turn the color of F
ranco's ruby red bowtie. Not to let my eyes explode with frightened tears. I had to make the choice to ignore my head and carry on like normal until I was back in the safety of my own apartment.
I did just that.
I folded the letter and shoved it in my purse, joining the others at the edge of the great room where the ceiling extended up towards a circular stained glass window overlooking the mountain tops. It was an exquisite place to get married. I knew Patrick wouldn't have had it any other way. He was starting the next chapter of his life where the previous one had begun. On the slopes.
"There you are," Bebe muttered. "Lila was just about to—"
"She's here," Lila shouted impatiently. "Let's move on with our day, people."
"Pastor," Patrick commented. "You remember Gwen … I mean, Essie?"
"Of course," the Pastor smiled and nodded in my direction. "I see your parents once in a while, but I haven't seen much of you lately."
"Someone is being called out," Franco muttered. He and Lila both chuckled quietly. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying anything. I would be surprised if the two of them have attended a church service once in their lifetimes.
"Let's get started, shall we?" Pastor Tad lined everyone up in their official spots with Patrick and Lila at the head of the room facing each other. I stood next to Bebe as the Pastor reviewed what he was going to say during the ceremony.
"Bebe," I whispered. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," she whispered back.
"Does stuff like this happen to Lila a lot? I'm just curious."
"You mean the stalker stuff?" she clarified.
"Yeah." I sighed as Patrick recited a short version of his vows. Lila's eyes were locked on him as he did so.
"Unfortunately, yes." Bebe moved a strand of hair away from her eyes and back to its proper place. For a brief few seconds, her eyes fixated on her bracelets.
"Has that stuff ever happened to you?"
"Heavens no," she exhaled, glancing at me suspiciously. "I would die if I received as much hate mail as she does, but I'm not the right person to ask about this stuff. I haven't known Lila as long as Bev has."
"Bev," I responded. "The flaky bridesmaid."
"If you ask me she dodged a bullet by backing out at the last minute."
"Have you talked to her recently?" I asked.
"Not since we left L.A." Bebe directed her attention forward when Pastor Tad remarked on Lila and Patrick's kind words and moved on with the ceremony by reading a few paragraphs about the importance of long-term commitment. "Are youokay, Essie? You look a little flushed."
My attempts to turn off the panicking side of my brain started to wear off. All I could think about was the letter, and the fact that I had no idea who the killer was, but the killer knew exactly who I was. I instinctively looked over my shoulder and scanned the room behind me.
"I think I'm a little dehydrated," I lied. "I'll be fine."
"Good," she muttered. "Because you're the only sane one around here."
"What do you mean?"
"Lila and Franco have been arguing more lately," she whispered, careful not catch Franco's attention. "He tells her everything. Maybe a little too much. I think he does it on purpose because he craves the drama."
"What about Patrick?" I asked.
"He's a doll," she admitted. "But anyone who isn't Lila can see that his heart isn't really in this anymore. I'm sure you've noticed that too. I mean, you know him better than me."
"Sometimes." I watched him squeeze Lila's hand when Pastor Tad said man and wife. "And sometimes I have no idea if he's even the same guy from down the street."
* * *
Immediately after the ceremony, Lila lined up a long list of treatments she wanted done in the privacy of her own suite. She retreated to her room which was now being guarded by a burly man with giant arms and fists that looked like they could knock you back to last year. Patrick, sensing that Lila wanted some alone time, retreated to his day spa of sorts. The slopes.
Franco scurried off to his room to get a nap in before the wedding dinner and I was left with Bebe. The two of us decided that now was a better time than ever to clean up Donna's room and box up her things to be sent off to her family. Bebe let me into Donna's hotel room. Her suite which was situated on the same floor as Lila, Franco, and Bebe wasn't as big as Lila's, but it faced the town and had a clear view of Doc Henry's medical office. It took me a few minutes to bring myself to touch any of Donna's stuff. I could tell that Bebe felt the same way. She stared at a pair of high heels near the bathroom that looked like Donna had just kicked them off when she'd walked through the door. It felt strange to be in her room knowing she was gone. I never met her, but even touching her luggage brought back that moment in the spa when Bebe had stood frozen in front of me.
"Weird," I commented. "Is it strange that I feel like I need to ask Donna's permission before I go searching through her stuff?"
"You mean before you go packing up her stuff," Bebe corrected me.
"That's what I meant." But my real agenda was just that – searching through Donna's things in hopes of finding out who killed her and who wanted to kill me too. "Packing her stuff."
I started in her closet. Donna wasn't the tidiest person, but she wasn't messy like Joy. Sometimes Joy left her clothes out for weeks and then freaked out if I put them back in her closet. She claimed that even though her clothes were strung across her room like a tornado had blown through, she could still find what she needed.
Donna had a couple of designer dresses hanging in her closet, and two pairs of jeans folded on a shelf next to a pair of nude pumps. Bebe ran her fingers over the dresses and sighed. She took one off the rack and looked at the label.
"I'm glad Donna and Lila weren't the same size or I might have had to hide these from her," she said quietly. She waited for me to giggle or even smile, but my mind was faraway. I was looking for something in particular. Donna's phone. "Too soon for jokes?"
"Huh?" I focused on Bebe. "Oh, I'm sorry I guess I was lost in thought."
"You do that a lot," she replied. "At first I thought you were just quiet or maybe a little shy, but I don’t think you hold your tongue because you have nothing to say."
"You're right," I admitted. "I always have plenty to say, believe me."
"It's better that you don't when Lila is around."
"How did you two meet?" I asked her.
"I love that girl, don't get me wrong. It’s just sometimes she can get under my skin." She checked the size of Donna's shoes. "We met at a red carpet event. My father is Harris Bridges, the designer. Lila wore a piece from his collection that night."
"And the rest is history," I finished.
"Exactly."
I left Donna's closet and skimmed through the magazines in her nightstand. She had everything from Vogue to Southern Living. Her bed hadn't been made since the incident and her sheets were wrinkled like she'd been lying in bed the last time she was in her room. I touched one of her pillows and noticed something shiny hiding under the sheets. It was Donna's cell phone.
Bebe continued to look through the clothes in Donna's closet before packing them in her suitcases. She zipped and unzipped the luggage to make sure everything fit. I made sure Bebe was completely out of eyeshot, and I swiped the screen on Donna's phone. It was locked. I tried a few of the obvious pass codes.
1234
4321
1111
"Hey, Bebe," I shouted. "When is Donna's birthday?"
"June fifth, I think. Why?" She paused still sorting through the closet.
"Oh, uh." I looked down at one of Donna's magazines. "I'm looking through horoscopes."
"You do that too?" Bebe laughed from inside the closet. "Have you ever done a psychic reading before? I went to this woman in Atlanta once and she told me I was going to meet my husband at a gas station. Can you believe that? My driver fills the gas tank."
"Crazy," I said as I tried Donna's birthday.
My stomach leapt when the screen cleared giving me full access to her messages. I immediately opened up her file of texts, my eyes stopping at the very last one she had received. It was from Franco.
Lila wants you to meet her at the spa early. Cold feet.
I read the text a couple of times before I looked through a few others. I stopped again when Bev's name appeared. Bev, the bridesmaid who somehow managed to escape the wedding from Hell. I quickly pulled out my own phone and copied her number. Donna had called her quite a few times the night she checked in. No one would miss the chance to be part of the secret celebrity wedding of the year. Even if it did only consist of a few friends and family at a quiet mountain resort.
"Find anything good?" Bebe asked as she hauled Donna's suitcase out of her closet. "Oh Lord, don't tell me she had porn in the nightstand. She was raunchy like that sometimes."
"Uh, no." I laughed. "Just this." I locked Donna's screen again before showing Bebe the cell phone.
"Oh that's where that thing went," she responded. "The cops were looking for that." She took the phone from me and slipped it into Donna's luggage before I had the chance to say anything else about it. "Anything else?" She eyed the magazines. "I don't think Donna would mind if we threw those away. What do you think?" She touched the cover of Southern Living. "Or maybe I'll hang onto this one for a while."
"Really?" I studied her expression.
"Yeah, I'm a country girl at heart." She grinned and tucked the magazine under her arm. "Well, we should probably get some rest before the big dinner tonight. I hope you're wearing … something different."
"This isn't a jeans and t-shirt sort of affair?" I joked. Bebe didn't seem too amused by the thought of me showing up to a formal event in casual wear. "I'm kidding."
"Oh," she exhaled. "Of course you are."
"I have something else to wear," I lied.
"Good, because anything short of a cocktail dress would be a disaster." She giggled the same way she did when she talked about Chanel handbags.
I had to find a dress for tonight. I couldn't wear my bridesmaid dress and call it good. I glanced out the window as a flurry of snowflakes began falling from the sky. The snow made me want to stay in and light a fire instead, but I couldn't miss the wedding dinner.
