by Laura Durham
“That would be great.” I returned his smile. “I left her right here watching the pastry chef about twenty minutes ago. When I came back to get her, she was gone, but I found some little bells from her necklace on the floor.”
Ian took the tiny gold bell from my outstretched palm. “These came from a necklace?”
“She likes to wear things that make noise,” I explained.
“I don’t blame her.” Ian grinned at me. A jingle bell necklace was tame in comparison to his stage attire. “Let’s look around and see if we can find any more. Maybe they’ll lead us in the direction she went.”
I dropped down on my hands and knees to get a better view and immediately regretted it. Pastry kitchens weren’t known for being spotless. I sat back on my heels and wiped my hands against each other, letting a shower of crumbs fall to the tile floor. At least my black pants hadn’t been clean to begin with.
“Any luck?” Ian called from across the room, where he stood next to an industrial ice cream maker.
I sat back up. “Nothing. Maybe she wandered off looking for me.”
Ian came over and held out a hand to pull me up. “She could be lost in the hallways. Odd that neither of us saw her, though.”
I took his hand and let myself be hoisted up. “I have a bad feeling that she’s in trouble.”
“Don’t worry.” Ian helped me brush off the front of my pants. “How much trouble can you get into in a kitchen?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “How about being electrocuted or impaled?”
“Right. Forget I said that.” He snapped his fingers. “Wait a second. Do you think she could have gotten locked in somewhere accidentally?”
“Like where?” I looked around the room.
Ian pointed at a large metal door by the entrance. “The walk-in freezer. It can be clamped from the outside.”
We both rushed over, and Ian yanked on the metal handle and heaved the massive door open.
Leatrice sat on the floor with her aviator’s scarf wrapped around her like a mummy and her jingle bell necklace clutched in her hand. My knees felt wobbly seeing her tiny, shivering figure.
I rushed forward. “Are you okay?”
She looked up and smiled weakly. “There you are, dear. I knew you’d find me. I kept ringing my necklace in case you could hear it through the walls.”
Ian helped me pull Leatrice up and walk her out of the freezer. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, revealing a tight black tank top underneath, then draped the shirt around her shoulders.
Leatrice’s eyes grew wide as she stared at him, and a little color seeped back into her cheeks. “Oh my. I remember you.” She nudged me. “They don’t make gentlemen like this anymore, do they, Annabelle?”
I tried to avert my eyes from Ian’s naked arms and mostly bare chest. “How did you get locked in there, Leatrice?”
She pulled the shirt closed in front of her. “I watched the chef decorating those precious little cakes, and then he got called out by another chef. I looked around the kitchen while I waited for him to come back. They have amazing gadgets in here, by the way. I didn’t even know what half of them were supposed to do.”
“The freezer?” I prodded her.
“Right. I was curious about the big metal door, so I opened it and the next thing I knew I was being pushed inside. I tried to resist but I’m afraid I wasn’t strong enough. My necklace even got caught on something and it broke in two.”
“We found some of them,” Ian said. “They must have scattered when they fell.”
“Did you see who pushed you?” I asked.
“No. It all happened too fast.” She held up her necklace. “Do you think this can be fixed?”
“I’m sure.” I patted her on the arm. “I’ve got super glue in my wedding emergency kit. When we get home, I’ll fix it for you.”
“You know it’s my signature piece,” she said.
Ian pulled me back a few steps. “Do you want me to call Security?”
I shook my head. All I wanted to do was go home. It was bad enough that I had Kate out hunting for clues, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to Leatrice. “I think we’ve made enough of a stir already without getting Security involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why else would someone push Leatrice into a freezer if not to warn me off?” I whispered. “We bumped into the general manager and he practically ran us out of the hotel. Clearly people in the hotel know I’m here.”
“That Darcy girl knew we were here,” Leatrice said, still shivering. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so eager to tell her about the investigation, dear.”
“Darcy was with me, Leatrice. She doesn’t have a reason to kill either chef, anyway.” I turned back to Ian. “Someone must have assumed I was here to poke around about the murder, though.”
“Why would they assume that?” Ian furrowed his brow.
I avoided his eyes. “Probably because that’s what I’ve been doing the past two times I was here. I promised Georgia that I’d try to find information to clear her of the murder.”
Ian let out a low whistle. “That explains a lot.”
“But this time I wasn’t here to do any investigating,” I explained. “I came down to get my car, which the parking garage lost yesterday, and Leatrice gave me a ride.”
“So this isn’t the first mishap you’ve had here?” Ian asked.
“No, but all I wanted to do was pick up my car. Nobody was even supposed to know I’d been here.”
Ian cast a glance at Leatrice, who busily inspected her bell necklace with her prescription goggles. “This is your idea of keeping a low profile?”
“My other options aren’t much better.”
Ian grinned. “You’re right. I’ve met your assistant and caterer friend. It’s a bit of a toss-up, isn’t it?”
“Shouldn’t we get your car?” Leatrice looked back at us through her goggles. “I feel much better now.”
“I don’t think you should drive.” I shuddered, thinking about Leatrice’s driving. I’d hate to see what it was like when she wasn’t in peak form.
“But I have to take my car home.”
“I’ll drive your car home for you,” Ian offered.
Leatrice beamed. “Isn’t that nice?”
“Are you sure?” I asked. Ian hadn’t seen the car yet, and I hesitated to ask if he remembered hand signals.
Ian held out a crooked arm for Leatrice. “It would be my pleasure.”
Leatrice giggled and took his arm, then glanced back at me. “Why don’t you follow us? I have a feeling we’re going to burn rubber.”
I sighed. Any chance I ever had to be inconspicuous was officially shot to hell.
Chapter 26
“Where have you been?” Kate lay sprawled out on my couch wearing faded boot-cut jeans and a pink baby doll T-shirt. Her shoes were scattered on the floor and the new issue of Martha Stewart Weddings lay open on her lap. “I’ve been waiting for ages.”
When I’d given Kate a key to my apartment for emergency purposes, I hadn’t imagined this being one of the disaster scenarios. “I had to get my car from the Fairmont. Leatrice and I ran into some trouble.”
“Leatrice?” Kate sat up. “Why would you take her…oh, hi, Leatrice.”
Leatrice still held tight to Ian’s bare arm as they followed me inside. “Kate, dear. Have you met Ian?”
Kate looked at me, then looked at Ian wearing nothing but a tight black tank, and she arched a perfectly penciled eyebrow. “Looks like you had a more exciting day than I did.”
Leatrice rushed over to Kate and clutched her arm. “Would you believe that I got locked in a freezer?”
“A freezer? Where were you again?” Kate asked.
Leatrice pulled Kate down on the couch and readjusted Ian’s shirt over her shoulders. “I gave Annabelle a ride to the hotel to pick up her car.”
“Leatrice insisted on seeing the murder scene,” I explained, clearing spac
e on the cluttered dining room table for my purse. “And guess who we ran into while we were there?”
“Not a very pleasant man.” Leatrice wrinkled her nose. “What was his name?”
“Mr. Elliott,” I said.
Kate sat up straight. “You bumped into the general manager? What was he like? Could you tell he had plugs?”
I shuddered. “Like rows of corn.”
“That’s what that was?” Leatrice shook her head. “I thought he had a condition that made his hair grow funny.”
“Mr. Elliott is pretty much like everyone describes him. Not very likable, and even less so when we mentioned the murders,” I said. “I don’t see why everyone at the hotel thinks he’s incapable of murder. He seems the type to me.”
“Elliott is a coward.” Ian scowled. “He’s known for getting other folks to do his dirty work.”
Leatrice touched his hand. “Oh, do you know him, dear?”
“We go back a few years,” Ian said. “There’s no love lost between us, I can assure you.”
Ian seemed to have more connections at the Fairmont than I’d realized. I wondered if anyone knew the whole story behind his past there, since he seemed reluctant to share. I made a mental note to ask Richard. He’d forgotten more gossip about the event industry than most people in Washington had ever known.
“So how did you go from the Colonnade room to being locked in a freezer?” Kate asked.
“We ran into Darcy on her way to the cafeteria.” I walked over and moved a pile of magazines out of the seat of a chair so I could sit down. “Leatrice got distracted by the pastry chef and stayed with him in the kitchen while Darcy and I grabbed coffee down the hall.”
“Let me tell the rest.” Leatrice bounced up and down where she sat. “I watched the chef make these adorable miniature cakes. They looked exactly like wedding cakes, only for midgets.”
I’d never heard individual wedding cakes explained quite like that before.
“After he left, I stayed behind to look at all of the fancy appliances,” Leatrice continued. “The next thing I knew, someone pushed me into the giant freezer and locked the door. If Ian and Annabelle hadn’t found me, I’d be a Leatrice-sickle.”
“It was Ian’s idea to look in the freezer.” I smiled at Ian and noticed that his eyes were locked on me. I felt my cheeks flush and looked away. “We’re lucky he knows so much about the hotel.”
Kate studied Ian for a second. “Lucky you were in the hotel. You’re sure you don’t still work there?”
“Ian’s in a band, Kate.” Leatrice smiled. “He told me all about it on the way over here. Apparently the eighties are really hot now. Who knew I was back in style after all these years?”
I decided not to explain the concept of an eighties cover band to Leatrice. It would take way too long.
“We think someone knew we were in the hotel asking questions and pushed me in as a warning.” Leatrice readjusted her aviator scarf around her neck.
I glanced at Leatrice’s scarf and goggles and shook my head. “Mr. Elliott, most likely, although I’m sure word got around fast that we were there.”
“Or the girl who was asking all the questions about the case,” Leatrice said.
“Darcy has been helping us, Leatrice,” I explained. “She’s on our side, I promise.”
Leatrice shrugged. “People can surprise you. Don’t you remember that older man with the heavy accent who used to live here? He disappeared only a few days after I saw him on one of those shows about former Nazis who were in hiding.”
“He didn’t vanish, Leatrice. He moved away. And he was from Russia, not Germany.” I turned back to Kate. “So, did you have any luck today?”
“You might say that.” Kate stood up and headed to the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Anyone want anything?”
Leatrice and Ian both shook their heads no. I followed her into the kitchen and stood behind her as she studied the contents of my refrigerator. “Well, are you going to tell me, or what?”
Kate put a finger over her lips. “I’m not so sure we should be telling everyone what we’re discovering. First your car disappears, then another chef is murdered, and now Leatrice gets pushed in a freezer? I’m on Richard’s side. I don’t like the way this is going.”
“You’re afraid to say anything in front of Leatrice and Ian?” I whispered.
“Not Leatrice, of course. Not that I’d put it past her to create a crime that she could solve.” Kate found a can of Diet Coke behind stacks of Chinese take-out cartons and popped it open. “I don’t trust Ian. I mean, what do we really know about this guy except that he seems to be at the Fairmont every time we turn around?”
“He did used to work there.”
“Exactly my point.”
“Not only is Ian the one who helped me find Leatrice, but he doesn’t have dark hair.” I peeked my head through the opening between the two rooms and saw Leatrice inspecting Ian’s tattoos. “He’s been nothing but nice since the beginning. I certainly don’t believe he has anything to do with the murders. First Leatrice suspects Darcy of being a killer, and now you think Ian might have done it. I think we have enough suspects with real motives to worry about without dreaming up new ones.”
“You’re probably right. You certainly couldn’t mistake that hair for brown, even at a distance.”
“I was planning on asking Richard if he knew any gossip about Ian, anyway.” I sighed. “Will that make you happy?”
“Good thinking. If he’s done anything remotely interesting in the metropolitan area in the past ten years, Richard will know,” Kate said. “And you won’t see me standing in the way of a possible romance between you and a tattooed rock star who wears a skirt. I wouldn’t miss seeing Richard go into cardiac arrest for all the brie in China.”
She was right. Richard would have a fit if I started dating Ian. He considered himself the arbiter of my nonexistent love life, and I knew Ian wasn’t his idea of a suitable match. Not that he’d approved of any of the would-be suitors I’d tried to scrape up in the past few years.
“Is that the business line ringing?” Kate craned her head around the corner.
“I’ll get it.” I darted out of the kitchen and down the hall. The phone was only on the third ring when I snatched it off my desk. “Wedding Belles, this is Annabelle.”
“Annabelle, it’s Detective Reese.”
“Detective?” My pulse fluttered, and I steadied my voice. “What did you think of the videotape?”
“Not much. The plastic case was empty.”
“What?” I stammered. “That’s impossible. I know it was there when I brought it to you. Maybe someone at the station misplaced it.”
“Another conspiracy theory?” He laughed harshly. “Listen, Annabelle. I appreciate that you think you’re trying to help your friend and that you really believe she’s innocent, but I think she’d be better off without your help.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. “But we found evidence that proves she couldn’t have been the murderer. It was on that tape. You have to find it.”
“We don’t have time for a scavenger hunt right now.” His voice was firm. “We’re running a murder investigation.”
“I understand that, but—”
“I don’t think you do understand. We’ve been compiling evidence and testimony, and all of it points to Miss Rhodes.”
“But she’s being set up,” I cried. “Don’t you see that? How do you explain another murder at the hotel while she was in custody?”
“We found no evidence that Gunter’s death was anything more than an accident.”
“Oh, come on.” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice. “Two deaths in less than a week and you think it’s a coincidence?”
“I didn’t call you to debate this.”
“Then don’t let me keep you, Detective,” I snapped, and hung up the phone. My hands shook with anger and I felt tears prick the back of my eyes.
“Is everything o
kay?” Kate peeked around the doorway.
“No.” I dropped the phone back on my desk. “That was Detective Reese calling to say that the video wasn’t in the case we dropped off and telling me not to waste any more of his time.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Our evidence is gone? Now what do we do?”
“Well, the police won’t help us. They won’t even listen to us anymore.” I shrugged. “It’s up to us to find the real killer on our own or Georgia’s going to prison for murder.”
Chapter 27
“Would anyone care to explain to me what those two are doing here?” Richard appeared in the office doorway and jerked a thumb in the direction of Leatrice and Ian in the living room.
Kate jumped. “Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
“Sorry,” Richard said. “The door was open. Leatrice and Ian are debating where she should get her first tattoo, and you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to be a part of that discussion. The idea alone will give me nightmares for weeks.”
I glanced at my open desk calendar. “Do we have a meeting I forgot about?”
Richard narrowed his eyes at Kate. “I was summoned for an urgent discussion about some new evidence. I was also instructed to bring empanadas, so this had better be good.”
My stomach growled at the sight of the burgeoning white paper bag in Richard’s hand. “Are those Julia’s Empanadas?”
The hole-in-the-wall empanada shops decorated in neon yellow and red didn’t look like much from the outside, but they turned out some of the most decadent savory pastries in the city. I’d developed a serious addiction to the spinach and cheese variety, while Kate loved the one filled with sweet pear. We were lucky they didn’t have a shop within walking distance or we’d have to enter a twelve-step program or Weight Watchers.
Richard clutched the bag close. “Yes, but no empanadas for anyone until I know what’s going on.”
“Yoo-hoo.” Leatrice’s voice carried down the hallway. “We’re going to run downstairs for a second. Ian’s never seen a real police scanner before. Anyone want to join us?”
