Wedding Takedown

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Wedding Takedown Page 19

by Geri Krotow


  “Maybe he felt guilty over killing Meredith.” As he spoke he knew it wasn’t true. Mickey Ippolito was a thug from way back. He’d do Tony Charbonneau’s bidding without a twinge of guilt.

  “Doubt it. There were drag marks and the grass on either side of the dirt path was flattened, but no footprints. He was either dead or unconscious before he was put in the water.” Colt paused. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “We’ve narrowed down who killed Meredith.”

  “Right. It likely wasn’t Mickey.”

  Rio ended the call and swore.

  “I take it the mayor’s assistant is dead?” Claudia’s eyes pierced his mental noise.

  “Yes. They found his body on a creek bank this morning.”

  “Foul play?”

  “From the looks of it.”

  “Mayor Charbonneau would have every reason to take Mickey out if he thought Mickey posed a risk.” Claudia was thinking aloud, a common way they brainstormed cases.

  “Or if he thought Mickey was going to take off with the funds, but Mickey didn’t strike me as an accounting mastermind.”

  Claudia gave one short shake of her head. “Tony would never trust the security passwords for his money to anyone else.”

  “Except Gloria.” He didn’t believe that, either, though. “No, he wouldn’t trust Gloria. She’s his trophy wife, period. He puts his grown daughter’s needs over hers from all we’ve seen. That speaks volumes.”

  “What about—”

  “Cynthia.” They said her name in unison.

  As if on cue, Cynthia’s voice came over the audio feed, which Nika had turned up.

  “Really, Gloria, you amuse me. It’s my day today and you’re still trying to get all of the attention for yourself.”

  “Don’t you need to go get ready? Your makeup will take a while.”

  Cynthia laughed. “Oh, Gloria, you have no idea how happy I am that you’re here with me today. No matter our differences. Family is family, after all.”

  * * *

  An hour before the ceremony, the flowers were as close to perfect as Kayla and Jenny were going to get them. The rain had stopped and a lingering mist gave the backyard and gazebo area a fairy-tale feeling.

  “It’s perfect if you look at it with an artist’s eye.” Jenny had a wistful expression. “Although Gloria and Cynthia Charbonneau aren’t really the artistic type, are they?”

  “No, they’re not. Let’s get these extra stems and supplies out of here, and we’ll bring in the boutonnieres. The bouquets will wait until the last minute.”

  “Kayla!” Gloria’s sharp voice carried across the sloping lawn and Kayla turned.

  “Jeez, does she think you’re a dog?” Jenny’s disgust twisted her mouth into a sneer that rivaled a comic villain’s. Kayla suppressed the urge to laugh—she didn’t want to start trouble with Gloria.

  “What do you need?” On the porch Gloria’s fully dressed and made-up state, complete with makeup, made her look like a C-list Hollywood actress. “Are you taking the photos now?”

  “Yes, and the photographer needs Cynthia’s bouquet. Now.”

  Kayla ignored the last word and went straight for the van, where she’d parked it alongside the house on a small driveway. Jenny was ahead of her and handed her Cynthia’s bouquet from the back refrigeration section.

  “Thanks, Jenny.”

  Kayla accepted the flowers and looked into the middle of the pure white blossoms—Cynthia hadn’t wanted any color but white. That was what she was getting, along with a tiny microphone similar to the one that was taped to Kayla. Rio and Claudia would be able to pick up what Kayla couldn’t.

  She rounded the back again and went into the house. Remains of a beautiful breakfast were on the sideboard and an empty champagne bottle was in a silver bucket, the ice melting around it. From the sounds of laughter as she neared the stairs, the bridal party had enjoyed the bubbly.

  “Up here.” Sylvia hurried down the stairs and took the bouquet from Kayla. “She’s pitching a fit but her friends are keeping her happy enough.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  Sylvia started to shake her head, then paused. “Yes. Come upstairs if you don’t mind, and make sure that these are exactly how Cynthia wants them.”

  Kayla got it. Sylvia didn’t want to be on the receiving end of any displeasure from Cynthia. Because that would mean dealing with an annoyed Gloria. No matter how strained the ties between Gloria and her stepdaughter, Gloria seemed to bend over backward to keep her happy.

  To keep the husband she was cheating on happy.

  The bridal party surrounded Cynthia and at first all Kayla saw were the pale lavender bridesmaids dresses. The group of five parted to allow her through, revealing Cynthia in a froth of white taffeta and silk.

  “Oh.” Kayla caught her breath. “You look beautiful.” As her bridal party murmured their agreement, Kayla kept her impression to herself. Her surprise hadn’t been at Cynthia’s beautiful image, not that she wasn’t a beautiful bride.

  It was the dress. It was incongruous with the hard-edged, career-driven Cynthia. Latin-themed, it resembled a flamenco dancer’s hourglass cut, off one shoulder, and very, very frilly around the hips and hem. No doubt the Charbonneaus had spared no expense for the gown, which Kayla thought was the true shame of it all.

  “These are a little bigger than we talked about, aren’t they?” Gloria asked, eyeing the bouquet against Cynthia’s gown.

  “They’re a perfect balance for the wedding gown and overall theme.” The photographer spoke up, and Kayla wanted to kiss him at the sheer adulation that poured from Cynthia’s expression at his praise.

  “Yes, you’re right, they are.” Cynthia never missed a chance to cut down Gloria, either.

  “When will the groom and groomsmen be here? We have their flowers ready,” Kayla said to Sylvia as Gloria and Cynthia were posing for the camera.

  “They should be here any minute. We expected them downstairs an hour ago, in the backyard, but one of them isn’t there yet.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, the mayor’s downstairs trying to sort it out.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll go talk to him.”

  Sylvia placed a cool hand on her forearm. “Careful. He’s in a mood about it all.”

  The warning wasn’t expected, especially from Sylvia, with whom she’d had little interaction save for Gloria’s weekly flowers. Kayla looked into her eyes and saw exhaustion and perhaps genuine concern. Working for the Charbonneaus was wearing on her.

  “Thank you. I’ll step lightly.”

  She darted out of the room and down the stairs, figuring the mayor’s office had to be somewhere off the main foyer, near Gloria’s. A deep male voice drew her to a closed oak door, where she paused.

  “Just come over without him, then. He’ll show up.”

  Silence.

  She rapped twice, then asked, “May I come in? It’s the florist.”

  “Come in, come in.” Tony opened the door before she did and offered her a rueful smile. “I’m trying to track down one of the groomsmen and not having any luck. He probably tied one on last night and is sleeping it off with his phone turned off.” He worked the cuff links on his tuxedo. “It’s not like him, though.”

  “Which groomsman is it?”

  He shot her an assessing glance, and in that beat she knew he didn’t see her as a threat.

  “Cynthia’s godfather, Mickey Ippolito. She’s going to be heartbroken if he doesn’t get here in time.”

  “This often happens at weddings. I’ve seen the groom as well as the bride show up at the very last minute, even late. There’s the exhaustion from the preparation, the rehearsal dinner, often the drinking afterward. Maybe some of them went out to another bar after the dinner was over?”

  “Maybe. Where’s Cynthia? Still getting her picture taken?”

  “Yes, she’s upstairs with Gloria and the bridal party. The photographer will need you soon, too.” Kayla had be
en around countless weddings and they all seemed to have the same timing, the same rhythm to them. Although this wedding had deadly tension added to the mix.

  “Please excuse me. Did you get anything to eat? Help yourself.” The mayor strode out of the office and she turned as though she was headed to the dining room. Instead she went back into his office as soon as he was up the stairs.

  Kayla wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but her brief training had taught her to exploit each and every opportunity to gather information and intelligence. She looked over the masculine room, loaded with thick hardcover books from floor to ceiling. She couldn’t say why, but she doubted Tony had read many, if any, of the books. Everything about the Charbonneaus was for show.

  A cursory sweep of the office revealed nothing, until she saw a familiar pattern on the corner of one of the shelves behind his desk.

  Would he be that stupid?

  She stepped forward and pulled out the file folder, and started to narrate what she was doing in a very low, quiet voice. Rio needed to know where she was.

  “I’ve found the same folder I saw fall out of Meredith’s briefcase, the same pattern I saw on a file in Gloria’s office. I’m in the mayor’s home office. The folder is—” she opened it “—empty. There’s a small pocket meant for a flash drive but it’s empty, too.” Disappointment welled and she felt foolish. “I’m putting back the file.” She shoved it between the two books, where she’d noticed it, and stood up straight.

  “What are you doing?” Cynthia stood in the doorway, her angry expression at odds with her princess wedding attire.

  “I didn’t hear you come down the stairs.”

  “I took the back stairs, through the kitchen. Answer my question.”

  “I’m waiting for the groomsmen to arrive. My assistant is getting their boutonnieres ready. Your father told me to wait for them.” A little white lie never hurt.

  Cynthia continued to stare at her for a full moment until the clamor of the rest of the bridal party distracted her. “We need this space to take photos of my father and me. You have to leave.”

  Kayla smiled and waited for Cynthia to clear the threshold before walking out of the room. Her heart was pounding. She needed to get a grip.

  It was going to be a long day and the vows hadn’t even been exchanged yet.

  CHAPTER 19

  “We’re doing this now, Rio.” Colt Todd stood with Rio behind the comms van, his hands on his hips.

  “I think we could get some more intel if we let them stew a bit more. They don’t need to know Mickey’s dead, not yet. I want to hear everyone’s reaction when he doesn’t show.”

  Colt shook his head, but before he could say anything more, Claudia stepped out of the van. “Contemplating the fine morning, gentlemen?”

  Colt actually smiled and Rio stared. He wasn’t used to seeing the man express much overt emotion. Was there something to it? Although Claudia was attractive, he couldn’t see them together.

  Could he?

  Damn it, but he was seeing romance everywhere since he’d decided he was going to talk to Kayla when this was all over. They had too much between them to let it go because she was afraid of commitment. He had been, too, but life was too short.

  “We’re disagreeing on when to notify the mayor that his assistant is dead.”

  “From what I just heard on Kayla’s feed, he’s also the bride’s godfather. We can’t be certain who exactly is our suspect.”

  “Right, but it’s not fair to have a wedding without him there, and them all wondering why not.” Colt was pragmatic. “Plus it’s not our problem about the timing. It’s life.”

  “Okay, go ahead and tell them. Be alert. If you can have Kayla there, even better.”

  “Roger.” Rio didn’t look at his boss as they fell into step together on the sidewalk, passing early arriving guests. As they weren’t in uniform, they wouldn’t cause a stir, not yet.

  Once in the house Rio spotted Kayla in the foyer, attending to a groomsman’s flower on his lapel. She looked up at him and her soft smile was pure joy. She quickly put her professional mask back in place and finished pinning the thick, heavily taped stem.

  They found the mayor in the kitchen, sipping black coffee and on his cell phone. When he saw Colt he looked him over, as if wondering why he was at his daughter’s wedding in a sport jacket and not a suit.

  “Good morning. We need to talk. Privately.” Colt didn’t wait for Tony to end his conversation.

  Tony put his phone in his tuxedo jacket pocket. “Colt. What’s this about?”

  “Privately.” Colt didn’t budge.

  “Very well, come on. We don’t have a lot of time.” Tony led them to his office, where Rio looked around until he spied the folder Kayla had been talking about on the feed. The pink-and-purple flowery design stood out like a sore thumb amongst manila folders and books.

  Rio closed the doors behind them and stayed silent, allowing Colt to tell Tony the bad news.

  “Mickey Ippolito is dead.”

  Tony Charbonneau paled, then flushed, then sat down hard on his luxurious office chair. It groaned under the force of his action. His hands started shaking and he shook his head in disbelief. “Come again?”

  “He drowned in the creek. In barely a foot of water. Do you happen to know if he was drunk last night?”

  “No, not at all. Sure, we were all having a few, celebrating, but...” He trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I can’t tell Cynthia. Not today. It’s too special.”

  “Might you want to postpone the wedding?” Rio asked.

  “Absolutely not. This is Cynthia’s day and it needs to go forward. She and Charles have their lives planned, and if she doesn’t marry him now, it will have to wait until she passes the bar. She doesn’t have any time to spare in her schedule.” He frowned. “Sometimes it can take two or three times, more. Cynthia’s a good student, but lots of smart kids have to repeat the bar.”

  “We’ll leave the decision to you as to when you tell her, but we’ll have to question everyone as soon as possible.”

  “You’re not going to question her on her wedding day!”

  “Yes, we are. It’s procedure. We can do it before the wedding or right after. You decide.”

  Tony stared at his hands on the leather-framed blotter. “I don’t want her upset for the service. I’ll tell her he drank too much, if she asks. She may not. He’s her godfather, though, I...” His voice cracked and Rio thought that Tony had genuine affection for Mickey. Too bad they were both criminals.

  “What’s with that folder?” Rio asked, catching the mayor exactly where he wanted to. Vulnerable.

  “What folder?” Tony frowned and looked at Rio.

  “The one behind you, with the flowers on it.”

  Tony looked behind him and shrugged. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at. There’s a lot of files back there.”

  “You know which one I’m talking about.” Rio felt Colt shift next to him, but his boss remained silent. Even if Colt thought Rio was chasing rainbows and unicorns, he’d keep quiet in front of a suspect. Rio would pay hell, however, if it turned out he didn’t know what he was doing.

  But he was pretty sure he did.

  “What?” Tony kept up the angry pose. “You come in here and tell me my friend is dead, and now you’re asking about a manila folder? Is Mickey really dead or are you shitting me to get your case solved?”

  As soon as he said the words, Tony’s bluster faded. He obviously realized his mistake. “Here, take it. What’s so special about it, anyhow?” He pulled out the flowery folder and threw it on his desk.

  Rio opened it and saw it was empty just as Kayla described. “What was in this pocket, Tony? May I remind you that you are speaking to two sworn officers of the law.”

  Tony sat stone-silent for several seconds. He looked at the folder. At Rio. His expression when he looked at Colt was apologetic. “I should have come to you, or at least the town, s
ooner. I’ve long suspected Mickey was up to something, maybe even in cahoots with Meredith. When she was found dead, I asked him what he knew about it, but he swore he didn’t kill her. That he’d never do that. I believed him.”

  “Why would he kill her, Tony?” Colt asked, playing more of the good-guy routine.

  “Because she found some files he’d been keeping and she interpreted them as proof of illegal doings.”

  “Such as?” Rio was curious to know what Tony would make up on the spot. No way would this thug who played at being a mayor admit his culpability.

  “I think it was something to do with registering some voters illegally in the last election. It doesn’t matter because I won by a landslide. I didn’t need any voter fraud to get elected.” His smug complacency in the face of the news that his lifetime friend and partner in crime was dead, and his ability to blame him for the mayor’s wrongdoing, didn’t shock Rio. It threatened to enrage him, however, and if not for his experience and training, he’d be inclined to arrest the mayor right now, in front of all the wedding guests.

  “Did you have any reason to want Mickey dead, Tony?” Colt asked the question as though he was asking about fly-fishing, one of his favorite pastimes.

  “Are you kidding me? He was like a brother to me. My best friend for years. The godfather to my daughter. How can you ask this now?”

  “Did you know he was having an affair with your wife?”

  “Do you mean my ex-wife?” Tony looked incredulous.

  “No. Your current wife.” Rio kept chipping at his defenses. Even sociopaths could slip up.

  “Gloria?” Tony threw back his head and laughed. “Gloria and Mickey?” He kept laughing, then looked at them, stone sober. “Never.”

  A quick knock, then the woman herself appeared.

  “Tony, we’re getting ready to start the service. It’s a damn shame Mickey’s not here.” She looked at Colt, then Rio, as if just realizing they weren’t groomsmen. Her recognition registered and she stiffened. “What are you two doing here?”

 

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