by A. Gardner
The elevator doors closed and Lila dropped to her knees, wailing. I was stunned, unsure what to do or how to comfort her. I could see the worry in Patrick's eyes as he glanced at me and inched towards his fiancée. He knelt down beside her.
"Donna and I weren't having an affair," he said quietly. "If that's what you thought, you should have talked to me about it."
"I know," Lila answered.
"Donna was upset about something Thursday night," he continued. "She wanted to talk to me about it, and that's what we did. We just talked."
"About what?" Lila whispered.
"About … the wedding," he admitted. Patrick looked back at me, Bebe, and Joy. "Donna thought you and I weren't a good match."
A wave of relief passed over me as his motives with Donna became clear.
"What?" Lila commented. "Why would she think that?"
"I…" Patrick shrugged rather than go into details. "That's not important. What's important is what we do now."
Lila slowly stood up, and faced us all with puffy eyes and perfect hair that contrasted with the makeup smeared all over her face. She hung her head for a minute like she was clearing her thoughts.
"I know this weekend has been crazy," she stated. "But, Patrick, I still love you. I still want to marry you … if you still want to marry me?"
This was Patrick's last chance to tell Lila how he really felt. It was his last chance to hang on to what the two of us had and make us his future instead. It was the final moment where he had to choose, once and for all, Lila over a normal life amongst the townfolk of Bison Creek. To choose the fame of L.A. or the simplicity of living in a snowy mountain town.
Patrick didn't look at me which told me everything I needed to know. He'd chosen Lila, and I didn’t blame him. He wanted to do all he could to make his mother happy before she passed away. He was doing what he thought was best for the fragile women in his life – his mother and Lila.
"I do," Patrick said quietly.
Lila's frown turned to a hopeful smile. She took Patrick by the arm and nodded.
"Not even a psycho killer can keep us apart," she commented. "Finish getting ready, girls. I'm getting married."
CHAPTER TWENTY
My stomach rumbled from skipping breakfast and I didn't have enough of an appetite to run and grab something from Aggie's kitchen. Even though Franco was safely locked away at the sheriff’s office, I still felt uneasy. I was relieved I no longer had to look over my shoulder every five minutes or make sure I didn't linger underneath railings or high hotel windows for very long. I had cleared the Pinecliffe Mountain Resort's name before the big ceremony, but I wasn't as elated about it as I should have been.
The upstairs hall was decorated and ready for the wedding. I heard Patrick's parents talking to Pastor Tad down the hall. My parents had shown up again along with Mayor Millbreck and a couple of Patrick's neighbors. Bebe and I were waiting down the hall in a guest room that had been designated as a bridesmaids’ changing area. Lila had her own suite – a makeshift bridal room with a spectacular view and a private balcony leading to the slopes.
Patrick and I didn't have a chance to talk after Franco was taken away. There wasn't much time left until the ceremony was scheduled to begin and Lila had decided she wanted Patrick by her side the rest of the morning in case anything else happened. Joy was making her usual rounds consisting of repositioning floral arrangements, taste-testing Aggie's brunch menu, and keeping Eli and the press in line. None of the photographers had escaped up the stairway so far, and I had no idea if Lila and Patrick decided to accept the lucrative photo-op offer from Starstruck Magazine.
There was a light knock on the door and Bebe jumped up to answer it. The two of us had been sitting in silence listening to the clamoring of the staff as they scrambled to set tables for small reception after the ceremony. It was comical to listen to Eli asking over and over again how to efficiently polish silver. Eventually one of his co-workers took over for him. Bebe and I were so invested in listening we'd barely touched our morning muffin basket and fresh brewed coffee. I thought about breaking my no-caffeine goal and downing a cup as soon as my eyes passed over the steaming pot waiting on the coffee table.
"Oh, Patrick," Bebe said as she answered the door.
"Hi." Patrick had a peach rose tucked into his front suit pocket. His cheeks were rosy and he greeted Bebe with a one-handed hug. He looked at me with softened eyes. "Bebe, can I speak to Essie alone for a minute."
"Sure." Bebe winked at me and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what Patrick wanted me to say. I started by smiling politely and opening my mouth to offer a congratulations but saying it without really meaning it didn't feel right. I cleared my throat and waited for Patrick to speak first.
"Thank you for what you did," he said, taking a step closer.
"I did it for all of us," I replied. "The entire resort's reputation would have been stained if no one figured it out. And Joy begged me to help so…"
"She chose the right girl for the job." He clasped his hands in front of him. "I don't know how else to say this, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. I don't want to stop being friends."
"That might be kind of hard when you move back to L.A." My heart started racing and it took everything I had to steady my breathing so my chest didn't rapidly rise up and down like I was jogging on a treadmill.
"I'm not going back," he informed me. "I've bought a house just down the street."
Great.
"And Lila is okay with this?" I asked, knowing dang well the shops on Canyon Road didn't compare to the designer chicness of Rodeo Drive.
"I'm sure she'll be thrilled, and so will my parents." He grinned. "In fact, I'm going to surprise her with the house keys in a few minutes. Why wait, right?"
"With everything that's happened, I sure wouldn't," I joked.
"And…" Patrick glanced down at his shoes. I knew what he was going to say next. He was going to bring up that spark between us that neither of us had the guts to talk about directly. My heart pounded even more.
"If this is about last night," I said first. "We agreed to leave that in the past where it belongs, remember?"
"I will," he agreed. "Because it's what you want. I just want to make sure you understand why I'm doing what I'm doing."
"You don't have to explain that to me."
"But I do," he insisted. "All I want is for the important people in my life to be happy. Lila and I are very different, but she was there for me when I signed my first big sponsorship deal. She was there supporting me when the press hounded into every private detail of my life trying to make it front page news. That's got to count for something. Am I right?"
"I never doubted the two of you have some kind of special connection," I responded. "You do what you feel is best, Patrick."
"You're not upset with me?"
"No," I admitted. I took a deep breath, and realized I really wasn't. When I think of the past I will always see his face, but that wasn't a bad thing. I'd moved on from a lot of things. Realizing I might never meet my birth mother. Standing up to that third piece of cake when it called to me at one in the morning. I could move on from Patrick too. How hard could it be the second time around?
"Good." He nodded, and pulled a key from his pocket. "It's a relief that at least one member of the wedding party thinks we'll make it. Donna was practically hysterical the night she checked in telling me all the reasons why I should break up with Lila."
"I thought she and Lila were friends?"
"I thought so too," he commented. "Chicks, huh?"
"Yeah," I answered quietly.
Patrick left the room and quietly shut the door. I heard Joy ask him if he was ready to start as he headed for the bride's room. There was another knock on the door. Joy stepped in without waiting for a response. She raised her eyebrows and studied my dress.
"Not the style I would have picked, but you still look sma
shing," she said. "Way better than the bride anyway." Joy chuckled.
"Don't let your boss hear you say that."
“Oh, he's probably in the kitchen double-checking everything," she said in a low voice. "He heard about the nut allergy thing you pointed out yesterday. He's worried we might have a lawsuit on our hands."
"Not when they've proven it was all Franco's fault," I pointed out.
"As long as I get my promotion." She gestured for me to get moving to my place. "Let's do this. Bebe is already ready to go."
I took one last look in the mirror, and smoothed a piece of my hair. My cell phone buzzed underneath my bra strap. I'd shoved it there as a temporary measure. My dress had no pockets, and my purse was locked downstairs in an employee locker.
"Hang on a second." I pulled my cell phone out to see who was calling.
"Essie," Joy scolded. "Put that away. I don't want your boobs to be buzzing when Patrick reads his vows."
"Just a second," I laughed. Joy slammed the door a little too firmly as she left the room. I looked at the brightened screen on my phone and froze. A name was flashing that pushed back everything I'd felt these past couple days. Confusion. Doubt. Fear.
Bev was calling me back.
I answered immediately, my eyes darting to each end of the room making sure I was completely alone. I gulped when I listened and heard silence on the other end.
"Hello," a voice said. "Is someone there?"
"Um," I replied. "Yeah. Sorry. Hi, this is Essie. Thank you for calling me back."
"When I found out about Donna…" Bev sounded different than I thought she would. It was impossible to see her facial expressions over the phone, but I could imagine. Her voice wasn't high-pitched and upbeat like Bebe's. She didn't sound diva-ish like Lila. She spoke slowly and deliberately like she wanted to make sure she was communicating clearly.
"I'm sorry. Were the two of you close?"
"Somewhat," she answered. "Listen, Essie, I've thought a lot about whether or not I should call you back and I've decided that there are a few things I think you should know."
"I'm listening," I said quietly.
"Are you sitting down?"
"Of course," I lied.
"Good." She exhaled, and I tapped my foot listening for my cue to walk down the aisle. "On Thursday night, Donna called me. She was really upset about the wedding and she didn't know who else to talk to."
"So she confided in you," I guessed.
"Yes." She took another breath. "Sorry, this is hard for me to talk about. Lila is a friend of mine but…"
"I'm alone," I reassured her.
"You should know I decided not to go for the wedding because right before our trip Lila had a nervous breakdown. It wasn't like her usual petty tantrums. This one was bad and … more violent."
"Violent?" I asked.
"She threw a bottle of wine out the window and threatened to throw the next one at my head." Bev paused. "It freaked me out."
"Did you tell anyone about it?" The sound of my heart pumping filled my ears and my throat was tight, like my glands were too swollen to swallow.
"Not until Donna called me that night. You see, she had seen some of Lila's episodes too. That's when she told me something wasn't right. That Lila and Patrick together was a deadly combination. I guess she'd noticed Lila had changed since their engagement."
"Changed how?" I asked.
"I don't know exactly how." She huffed, frustrated. "All I know is Donna went on and on about it until she got a headache. She was too wound up to give me any straight answers."
"She must have said something."
"There was one thing that struck me as odd," she said in almost a whisper. "Donna said that Lila had stopped taking her meds whatever that means."
"How about she's on some kind of medication and she has been neglecting her treatment?" I spoke up.
"No, Lila isn't on anything. Except maybe sleeping pills or something like that. She works a lot."
My mind jumped back to the times I'd seen Franco slip Lila something while no one else was looking. And the time when Lila had admitted to me she took something to help her sleep. Could Franco have been giving her something to make her paranoid and crazy instead? Maybe Lila's mood swings and supposed mental breakdown in front of Bev wasn't her? Maybe it was the medication talking? It would have given Franco juicier material for his tell-all book.
"Did Donna say anything about Patrick?" I waited, hopeful that Bev might reveal more information about Patrick's decision to carry on with the wedding.
"Not really," she confessed. "None of us really know Patrick that well. He's usually pretty distant. I always got the feeling his mind was somewhere else whenever we went out."
"Well, whether or not they're right for each other, it's too late now."
"Too late?" Bev raised her voice, sounding concerned. "Don't tell me the wedding is still on?"
"It should be starting any minute now," I replied.
"Even after Donna…?”
"That was Lila's decision." I closed my eyes briefly, hearing Bev's quiet sobbing. She tried to hide it by covering the phone's speaker, but that only made white noise.
"That greedy little tart," she said through her teeth. "I can't believe she would do that and everyone else is actually going along with it. Someone should send her back to The Cove. She was totally normal when she came home last year. The best I've ever seen her."
"Excuse me," I butted in. "The Cove?"
"Yeah," Bev confirmed. "At least, that's what she called it. Some elite spa for A-listers only. She was there for quite a while."
"You're sure?" All the muscles in my torso flexed, and I could hardly let out the word goodbye. John Slagger's face was in my head, and I couldn't shake it away. Something wasn't right about his trip to Bison Creek. Something still wasn't adding up.
"Positive."
"Thanks," I responded. "I've got to go." I hung up and dashed out of the room. I needed to speak with Patrick before the wedding. If Lila was being drugged or blackmailed or if she herself was the actual killer than he needed to know. Now.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
I arrived just in time. The ceremony still hadn't started and the door to the bride's room was shut. Joy stood next to it staring at the grandfather clock mounted in the hallway. My chest pounded as I knocked loudly, disregarding everything going on around me.
"Keep it down, will you?" Joy whispered. "They're probably having one last make out session as singles. They'll be done in a minute."
The smirk on Joy's face disappeared when she saw the glint of fear in my eyes. I had to stop this ceremony before it was too late. Before Patrick made the biggest mistake of his life by marrying an unstable, violent celebrity who might be involved in her own bridesmaid's demise.
"The Cove," I blurted out to Joy. "Whatever that place is … rehab, therapy, a healing spa … both of them went there together."
"What on earth are you talking about, sis? Who went where?"
"Lila and our mystery man from out-of-town, John Slagger. The man who nobody can find at the moment?"
"So?" Joy placed a hand on her hips and glanced over at Bebe who was waiting impatiently to walk down the aisle.
"So," I said, raising my voice. I knocked on the door again. "The two of them could be working together."
"Working together to what, Essie? Spit it out."
"One or both of them might have murdered Donna," I answered bluntly. "What the heck is wrong with this door?" I was so frustrated no one had answered I turned the door knob and burst into the Lila's room. It was empty. A tube of lipstick lay open on the vanity and a cup of black coffee was sitting next to an open container of creamer. It was as if their conversation had been interrupted by something.
A breeze ran across my arms and I shivered. My eyes darted to the window where one of the beige lacy curtains were flapping in the wind. The patio doors were open and the breeze let in snowflakes from outside. I ran to the window, looking up at the
silent slopes and the closed chair lift.
"Call the sheriff," I instructed Joy. "Tell him to get here immediately, and to call for backup. I think I might have been wrong about Franco."
"But it had to be Franco," Joy argued. "Everything lined up so perfectly. The nut-ridden cupcakes. The Charles Dickens codename. The motives. The text message."
"Exactly," I gulped. "Maybe it was all a little too perfect."
"Do you think it was staged?" she asked.
"I didn't an hour ago," I confessed. "I just hope I'm not too late."
"What about the ceremony?" Joy asked quietly. She tugged at a strand of her hair, and gently patted her stomach like she'd suddenly become nauseas. Canceling the ceremony the night before the wedding was one thing, but canceling after all the guests had arrived and her boss was observing her handiwork was another. It wasn't a surprise she was having trouble stomaching it.
"Keep stalling," I suggested.
"Maybe they went for a walk?" Joy hopefully stated. "Maybe you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion?" She anxiously rubbed her forehead. "Oh, who am I kidding? Lila is like the mother of all bridezillas. She almost gave me a heart attack this weekend."
"It'll be okay." I don't know that for sure, but I knew the two of us would survive whatever happened next, wedding or no wedding. "Go call the sheriff."
Joy nodded in agreement and left the room quietly. I took a step onto the patio. The slopes were white with fresh powder, and the sky looked pearly from all the snowfall. Snowflakes landed on my eyelashes and head. I brushed them off and let my eyes wander down the patio steps and onto the mountainside. My heart jumped when the chair lift leading up to the highest ski run started moving. Someone had switched it on. I jogged down the patio steps and into the snow wearing uncomfortable high heels. The back of my dress dragged along the ground and made a mess of snow and mud on the fabric.
In the distance there were two figures arguing near the small chalet building that housed the ski lift controls and equipment. The sole of my foot felt like it was about to freeze off as I neared the chalet hut. Snow was sliding into my shoes. I didn't stop to dry my feet because I knew my time was scarce. Over the howling wind came voices. It was Patrick and Lila, and they were both shouting.
