"Because he found out she was Gigi's daughter!" Anne shouted. "Duh!"
And I'd been the one to give Anne this bit of information. I mentally kicked myself. I so owed Allie after this. If there was an after this, I decided, seeing the way Anne's eyes had taken on a crazed look talking about her beloved uncle.
"And now your uncle has her?" I asked.
Anne cocked her head to the side. But instead of answering right away, a crooked smile took over her face. There went that Cheshire cat look again. "You really have no idea where she is, do you?" she asked.
I paused. "Uh, sure I do."
But, as Ramirez had pointed out many a time, I was a terrible liar. And Anne didn't buy that for a minute. Instead, she jumped right at me, lunging over the altar debris and hitting me square in the chest, knocking us both backwards into a row of folding chairs. They toppled over with a domino effect that rippled on for three whole rows, taking the delicate ribbon and floral edging with it.
Her hands went around my throat, instantly cutting off my air supply. I clawed at her fingers, kicking my knee upward to catch her in the gut. Her grip loosened as the wind went out of her. I rolled sharply to the left, knocking into the little white table that held the guest book. It went flying, landing in the flowerbeds. Anne grabbed a handful of my hair and thunked my head against the hard earth.
"Uhn." I tried to ignore the lump I was sure I'd have tomorrow, clawing at her face with my free hand.
She jerked out of the way, rolling us to the left, knocking into a glass terrarium full of monarch butterflies. I grabbed a handful of her hair and we went right, taking down a table full of wine bottles and little bubble blowers. I winced. Marco was going to kill me.
That is, if I ever got out alive.
Anne's hands went around my throat again as she rolled me up against a palm tree, the little white lights hot against my back. I felt her fingers squeeze until gurgling sounds erupted from the back of my throat. I twisted right and left, turning my head side to side, but it was no use. For a stick figure, she was freakishly strong. And she had me completely pinned. I felt my limbs going heavy, fog starting to fill my head, my vision fuzzing at the edges.
This was it. And my first irrational thought as the wave of unending dizziness swept over me was that I never got to be a wife. Ever since we'd gotten engaged, all this wedding stuff had taken on a life of its own. I'd forgotten that it was really all just the means to an end. An end where I'd fall asleep in Ramirez's arms every night. Where I'd wake up every morning to the sound of his shower and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Where we'd sit on the sofa and watch movies without worrying about which one of us had to drive home in an hour for an early morning. Where I knew that no matter how horrible my bed-head was in the morning, he'd still love me anyway. Where no matter how many cases took him away in the middle of the night, I knew he'd always come home to me. Our home. Where one day we'd start a family, watch it grow, and hold hands on the front porch as we turned into old, wrinkly, prunes who only had eyes for each other.
That was the part I wanted. That was the part I'd said yes to in Paris. And I was damned if some skinny homicidal freak was going to rob me of it.
As I felt my vision fade, my fingers grasped along the ground for anything I could use as a weapon. Just as my head felt like it was about to explode, my fingers wrapped around something long and smooth. I swung wildly in front of me, and felt the pressure on my throat release as a wine bottle collided with the side of Anne's head.
She fell off me, rolling to her hands and knees as I dragged in deep, painful breaths of air. But I didn't care, nothing had ever felt so good.
Anne stood up, shaking bits of green glass from her hair. And grabbed another discarded bottle, swinging it my way. "Bitch!" she yelled.
I ducked just in time, scrambling up off the ground and diving behind one of the giant tiki heads. She was a step behind me, the wine bottle slicing menacingly through the air.
I ducked down and shoved at the tiki head with all my might. It wiggled a little. I threw my shoulder into it, and shoved like my life depended on it. Which, if the crazed look in Anne's eyes was any indication, it did.
The tiki head tilted forward, slowly leaning on one edge. I shoved one more time and felt it tip forward. I heard Anne scream, and then the sickening crunch of the tiki landing on top of her, pinning her body to the ground.
And apparently Anne wasn't the only thing it hit. Because within seconds, hundreds of tiny, winged butterflies filled the air, fluttering up into the night sky.
I watched them, panting as I crumpled to the ground, my legs giving out entirely. Marco was right. They really were kind of spectacular.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later the air was filled with the sound of sirens, my perfect shambles of a wedding site bathed in flashing blue and red lights, crime scene tape holding back a mob of curious hotel patrons that now couldn't seem to keep their eyes off the garden. (Where had they been half an hour ago?)
I was seated in the last row of what was supposed to be my wedding venue watching paramedics try to pry Anne's screaming, swearing form from beneath a giant tiki head as I fielded questions from a very confused rookie cop in a starched blue uniform.
"So, you followed your caterer here?"
"Yes."
"And she attacked you?"
"Yes."
"Because she killed your wedding planner?"
"Yes."
"And you pinned her with a giant tiki head."
"That about sums it up."
He gave me a funny look, then jotted something down in is notebook. Probably a note to self never to get married.
"Maddie!"
I looked up to find my entire wedding party running toward me. Mom, Faux Dad, Larry, the Ramirezes and everyone else, all jogged across the lawn toward the flashing lights. (Well, most of them jogged. Mrs. Rosenblatt mostly waddled.) But the man leading the pack was the only one I noticed. Ramirez.
Shoving the unformed cop aside, I fairly leapt into his arms as he ducked through the crime scene tape.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his arms instantly around me.
For a moment I couldn't respond, my throat clogged with emotion. "Yeah," I finally squeezed out.
He pulled back, running an assessing look over my person. A few cuts, bumps, a nasty bruise forming on my neck. And I could feel a hell of a headache brewing. But I was essentially okay.
Once he finished looking me over, he glanced around the scene I'd created. "Wow, when you stay out of trouble, you really do it with style."
I couldn't help a smile. "Thanks."
"I'm not sure that was a compliment."
"I know."
He grinned down at me. Then he gestured to Anne. "So, she killed Gigi?" he asked.
I felt the corners of my mouth heading north, my spine straightening. "Yes. I got a full confession. She also kidnapped Allie."
"Wow."
"Guess this means I win, huh?"
Ramirez looked down at what I was sure was the biggest shit eating grin ever pasted on my face. His eyes crinkled at the corner, his own lips twitching.
"Damn. I guess it does. All right, you win, Springer. You're a kickass detective."
Have I mentioned how much I love this man?
I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him square on the lips. I might have even used a little tongue had the entire L.A.P.D. not been watching (not to mention my mother), but as it was, I restrained myself.
"Maddie, honey!" Mom and the gang finally broke through the police barrier, enveloping me in a series of group hugs that I was sure were going to leave bruises tomorrow. Everyone was talking at once, Mom alternating between jaw-dropping awe and tears, Dana doing a series of "ohmigod"s and Marco eyeing the cute paramedic with an earring. Finally Ramirez corralled them all into one of the reception tents and sat me down alone.
"So," he said, going into cop mode, "tell me exactly what Anne said to you."
So, I di
d, relaying the entire story. "She said she did it because she loved him," I finished.
"That makes sense," he said, his eyes doing a slow survey of the scene. "My captain picked him up an hour ago."
I froze. "He did?"
Ramirez nodded. "We suspected him from the beginning. When we learned why Gigi visited her attorney, it sealed it. Only problem was, with the airtight alibi, we knew he must be working with an accomplice."
"Her attorney talked to you?" I asked, dismayed. And here I thought we got on so well with Kaufman.
Ramirez grinned at me. "A warrant helps. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know anything about a blonde in heels who had him draw up a prenup, would you?"
Guilt heated my cheeks. "Nope."
"Hmm," he said. "Yeah, I didn't think so."
"So, uh, anyway," I said, clearing my throat. "After you arrested him, did he tell you where Allie was?"
He shook his head. "No. He swore he didn't know. But I have a feeling Anne may be a little more forthcoming." He gestured to the woman, still squirming and shouting curses as the tiki was lifted from her right leg. I winced, looking away. The way that leg was bent was definitely not natural.
"I don't know," I said. "I'm not sure she'll talk. She seems pretty devoted do her uncle."
"Her uncle?" Ramirez gave me a funny look.
I nodded. "Yeah, Fauston. He's the one who told her to kill Gigi."
Suddenly the mammoth grin that I'd been doing ever since Ramirez conceded defeat was on the other face. His eyes twinkled down at me. "Honey," he started.
Uh oh. I'd gone from crack detective to honey. This did not sound good.
"We didn't pick up Fauston," he continued. "We arrested Gigi's ex. Seth Summerville."
"Summerville?" I felt my jaw drop open. So much for my big gloating win.
Ramirez nodded. "After talking with her attorney, we learned that Summerville and Gigi had never actually finalized their divorce. Gigi was still hung up on him and had stalled the proceedings. That is, until Spike proposed to her. She called her attorney to have papers drawn up to dissolve the marriage with Summerville right away."
"So she was going to say yes to Spike?" I made a mental note to tell him. While nothing would bring his girlfriend back, I had a feeling it would help.
"It would seem," Ramirez went on. "Only Summerville wasn't happy about it. See, his company was in trouble. Big time. He'd over-invested and with the real estate market in a slump, he'd gotten in over his head. He was on the verge of bankruptcy and losing everything. But, as long as he was married to Gigi, he could still borrow against her business."
"Which was thriving. Only once they divorced, there went his cash cow," I added.
Ramirez nodded. "Exactly. So, he came up with an even more lucrative idea. Kill Gigi and inherit her entire estate. He'd been carrying on an affair with Anne ever since she'd started delivering cookies to his building, back when he and Gigi were still together. He promised Anne he'd finally be free to marry her if she killed Gigi for him."
The puzzle pieces were rapidly falling into place. "Only he wasn't the one to inherit. Her daughter was. He really hadn't known about Allie."
"No. Not until you told him."
I winced. Geeze, had I tipped everyone off? That was it, I owed Allie free pedicures for life.
"So, they kidnapped her?"
Ramirez nodded. "When Summerville found out he wasn't inheriting, he said he couldn't marry Anne after all. She got desperate. The plan was to force Allie to sign a will leaving everything to Summerville, then kill her."
I bit my lip. "Did she?"
Ramirez shrugged. "Like I said, Summerville swore he didn't know where she was. The kidnapping was all Anne's doing."
I looked over at Anne, resisting the urge to go kick her broken leg until she gave it up.
Beyond her, I saw a figure in khakis and a white button-down jogging toward us from the parking lot, his mussed hair floating around his flushed ears.
Ramirez followed my line of vision. "Is that who I think it is?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
I punched him in the arm. "Don't start."
Considering I'd already crushed one person that night, he complied. Smart man.
Completely ignoring the crime scene tape, Felix came at us, almost as out of breath as I'd been a few minutes ago.
"Maddie, you okay?"
"She's fine," Ramirez answered for me, wrapping a possessive arm around my shoulders.
Oh brother.
Luckily Felix either didn't notice or had perfected his ignoring Ramirez technique. "Any sign of Allie?" he breathed.
I shook my head.
His entire body immediately went slack, the hope draining out of him as he slumped into a wooden chair. "What happened here?"
I took a deep breath, trying to rewind to the beginning of the evening again.
"Well, after I went back to the bakery, I saw Anne leaving. I followed her from the bakery to here, where she put my wedding cake in the kitchen. Then I had the idea to check out her van. Only I didn't get a chance because just as I was opening the door she whacked me on the back of the head with a cookie sheet..."
I trailed off. And felt my eyes grow big as it hit me.
It must have occurred to Felix at the same time as he sat bolt upright. "The van!"
He jumped from his seat, toppling over the chair, and took off for the bakery van at a full on sprint. Ramirez and I followed a step behind, covering the expanse of lawn to the back parking lot.
Fauston's van was still in the same place it had been, sitting three spaces from the front of the building. Felix hit it first (who knew Tabloid Boy could run so fast?) and fairly ripped the back door off in his vigor to open it. I closed in a few steps behind Ramirez, my right side cramped from way too much exertion in way too short a time span. That's it, after this I was permanently off exercise.
I strained to see around Ramirez's broad shoulders, pushing in front of him.
Then froze.
There, sitting in the back of the van, amongst pink boxes of peanut butter cookies and chocolate fudge squares, her feet bound, her mouth covered with duct tape, sat Allie.
Chapter Twenty-One
Felix jumped into the van and started tearing at her bindings before Ramirez could stop him. Not that I'm entirely sure anything could have stopped him at that point. I'd never seen cool, collected Felix so frantic before. Allie winced as he ripped the duct tape off her mouth in one band aide like motion, but as soon as her hands were free, she threw both arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, tears flowing like they'd never stop.
Felix carried her out of the van as Ramirez hailed a paramedic team over. After a thorough head to toe, they said she was a little dehydrated, and the cut on her head where Anne had knocked her out in her apartment needed a couple stitches, but she was basically okay. Physically, that was. Mentally, I had a feeling it would be awhile before Allie looked at cookies the same way again.
It was a good two hours later before the last of our wedding party was bundled into their cars and the police officers had finished their interviews, clearing Allie and me to go home. Felix insisted on taking Allie home with him so he could keep an eye on her overnight.
"But," he assured me as he bundled her into his Neon, "she can sleep in the guest room. No funny business, I swear."
I grinned. "Hey, your funny business is your business, Felix."
He nodded, that odd emotion flitting behind his eyes again. "Yes, I suppose it is."
I gave him a wave and turned to go.
"Maddie?" he called.
"Yeah?" I spun back around to face him again.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
I looked down at my watch. 12:03. I guess it was technically Valentine's Day, wasn't it?
"Thanks," I said. Then looked over his shoulder to where Allie sat waiting for him. "Happy Valentine's Day to you, too, Felix."
"Thanks. Oh, and by the way," he said, a mischievous grin spreading
across his face. "She's twenty-five."
I couldn't help the answering tug at my lips. "Well, I guess that makes it all okay then."
He didn't answer right away, instead giving me a long look that I wouldn't dare to try to interpret. Then finally just said, "Goodbye, Maddie," and walked away. He slid into the driver's seat of his car, pulling out of the parking lot.
I watched his taillights disappear around the corner, trying to ignore the little empty spot in the pit of my stomach.
"Hey." I felt Ramirez's warm hands rest on my shoulders.
"Hey." I leaned back against his chest. It was warm and solid and I suddenly realized how exhausted I was.
His arms went around me. "You ready to go home?"
I nodded, then turned around and looked into his face. It was the first time I'd really stopped to get a good look at him in days. His eyes were tired, drooping a little at the corners, their tiny laugh lines more pronounced. His jaw was dusted with a fine sprinkling of stubble and I wondered when the last time was that he'd actually slept.
"Happy Valentine's Day," I said.
He smiled down at me. "Happy wedding day."
Oh, hell.
With all that had happened, I'd almost forgotten that we were supposed to be man and wife in just hours. I waited for those pesky panic hiccups to hit at the thought. Oddly enough, in Ramirez's warm grasp, they didn't. Huh. I guess maybe being chased around by a homicidal maniac had scared them out of me for good. Go figure.
Though, as I looked around at my shambles of a wedding site, I felt my heart sink.
"There's no way we can get married here today," I said.
Ramirez frowned. "It is kind of a crime scene now, isn't it?"
I shook my head, watching uniformed officers tromp up and down my red, carpeted aisle. "The tamales are melting all over the reception tent, the guest book's in the mud, the flowers are trampled, the altar's wrecked, the butterflies are gone and the tiki head has blood on it!"
Ramirez chuckled. Actually chuckled.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You find our ruined wedding funny?"
"Who me?" Though he valued his life enough to stop laughing. "No way."
Mayhem in High Heels Page 23
