by Laura Durham
“Oh, shut up.”
We ambled the screen around the outskirts of the dining room until we were almost at the door. I poked my head out and looked into the foyer.
“The coast is clear.” I waved for Kate to follow me. “It’s now or never.”
We abandoned the screen and scurried through the foyer and out the front door. I pulled the heavy door behind me as silently as possible and jumped when I heard Richard’s voice on the other side.
“Who moved this screen? Anyone? It couldn’t have walked over here by itself, people. When I find out who’s responsible…”
I started running with Kate close at my heels, and we were both breathing hard when we reached the car. I cast a glance over my shoulder and sighed in relief. No Richard.
“Good thing he didn’t see us.” I felt a twinge of guilt. “I feel sorry for the poor person who has to suffer his wrath for moving the screen.”
“Tell me about it.” Kate collapsed against the passenger side. “When he gets his feathers muffled, there’s no living with him.”
Chapter 31
“I’d call last night a total bomb.” Kate collapsed onto my couch, draping her arm across her eyes. From what I could see, her black suit reached her knee and didn’t show any cleavage. I studied her carefully for a hidden side slit or peekaboo back. Nothing. Either everything she owned was at the dry cleaner or she’d finally decided to dress appropriately for a wedding.
“I wouldn’t say that.” I tucked in my ivory silk shell and zipped up the side of my black dress pants.
“You didn’t miss a date with the cutest new senatorial staffer.”
“You had a date last night?” I didn’t know why I was so surprised. When it came to her social life, Kate was a champion multitasker.
“We were supposed to have dinner at Ceiba, but after the covert mission you dragged me on I was too wiped out to go home, put together an irresistibly cute outfit, and be captivating for a few hours.” She peeked at me from under her arm. “I really could have used one of their mojitos, too.”
“Our covert mission, as you call it, wasn’t a total waste of time.” I pulled back my living room curtains and squinted at the bright sunshine, crossing my fingers for some clouds before our outdoor photo session with the bride. Every bride prayed for sunny weather, but photos were more flattering when it was slightly overcast.
“How do you figure that?”
“Didn’t you see Marcello’s reaction when we accused him of being an accomplice to murder?”
“First off, we didn’t accuse him of being involved in the murder. That was all you.” Kate shook her head. “Personally, I never tick off someone holding a knife.”
“Don’t you think he was awfully calm about the whole thing?” I hoisted my metal emergency kit onto the table and opened it to see if I needed to restock any wedding supplies.
“Maybe because he didn’t do it?”
“I know we can’t prove anything, but I just have a feeling that he’s involved. Everyone else hated Henri because he was horrible, but Marcello had a real motive. He lost his career, his wife, his kid.”
“It’s not like he talks about them, though.” Kate sat up and adjusted the waist of her black panty hose. “Maybe his wife would have left him anyway. He does have a nasty temper.”
I pawed through the contents of my wedding “crash” kit, as Kate lovingly called it. Safety pins, bobby pins, ink pens, hair spray, bug spray, static guard, fake rings, scissors, tape, glue, white-out, sewing kit, buttons, Velcro, ribbon, powder, chalk, extra strength aspirin. We were in business.
“I still have a feeling that Marcello knows something, even if he didn’t actually do it,” I said.
“Since the police lost our only real evidence, we might never know who did it.”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“At least Joni hasn’t asked for her tape back yet. If we’re lucky, the bride won’t even want to see her video.” Kate gave a small shudder. “Would you want to relive that?”
“Wait a second.” I closed the emergency kit quickly and fastened the metal clasps. “Why didn’t I think about this before?”
“What? Why do you have that look like you’re up to something?”
“I’ll bet Joni didn’t give us her only copy of the footage. She always copies weddings onto her hard drive so she can edit them, and I’m sure she makes backups.”
“You mean in case the wedding planners borrow them and give them to the police as evidence in a murder case?” Kate didn’t sound convinced.
“Exactly.” I grabbed the phone off the coffee table and dialed the videographer’s phone number from memory. Answering machine. I left a long message explaining everything and gave her my cell phone number.
“Anyone home?” Leatrice cooed as she pushed open the door.
I glared at Kate as I put the phone back on its charger. “You didn’t close the door behind you?”
“Sorry.” She winced. “We’re just about to leave for a wedding, Leatrice.”
“Lucky I came up when I did.” Leatrice bounced into the room wearing a multicolored sweater with three-dimensional puffy penguins sewn all over it. “Ian and I have a theory about the murders that I wanted to share with you.”
“You and Ian?” I looked at the door. “He’s here, too?”
“Not now.” Leatrice laughed. “But he was here last night looking for you. I told him you must be out working so I invited him in and we had TV dinners together.”
Kate frowned at me. “Did you stand him up?”
My mouth went dry as I vaguely recalled a previous mention of a Friday night date. Had I missed my only real date in months? “I don’t think so. At least I don’t remember setting a definite time.”
“You need some serious help, Annabelle.” Kate gave me an exasperated sigh. “I see that I’m going to have to put some overtime in to bring you up to speed on dating.”
“Can I help?” Leatrice clapped her hands.
Just what I needed. Dating advice from an eighty-year-old in a three-dimensional penguin sweater. I’d have to call Ian later and try to explain, but for now I had to focus on the murder. Not to mention the wedding.
“What’s your theory, Leatrice?” I tried to change the subject.
Her eyes lit up. “Ian thinks that it had to be Mr. Elliott, and I have to agree that he’s a completely unpleasant man.”
“We’ve been down this road before.” I slipped my black suit jacket off the back of a dining room chair. “As much as I’d love him to be guilty, I just don’t think he has the motive.”
“Did Ian tell you why he’s convinced the GM did it?” Kate asked.
“He seems to know everyone at the hotel pretty well. I guess he thinks Mr. Elliott is the most likely person to commit murder.” Leatrice blushed. “He’s such a nice boy once you get past the tattoos. He even promised to come over and help me with some surveillance this afternoon. Too bad you girls have to go. I’m going to heat up frozen corn dogs.”
Poor Ian. This had to be one of his tamer Saturdays.
“What type of surveillance?” I hesitated to ask.
Leatrice lowered her voice and darted a glance over her shoulder. “You know that couple that moved into the second-floor apartment?”
I nodded. “The ones from California?”
“Or so they say.” Leatrice gave us a knowing look. “I think they’re really moles.”
“What?” Kate stifled a laugh.
“Sleeper spies,” Leatrice continued. “They’re planted here by foreign governments and they wait until the perfect moment to spring into action. I’ve been observing them for weeks.”
“No wonder this building has so much turnover,” Kate said under her breath.
“You know that Washington has more spies than any other place in the world, don’t you?” Leatrice didn’t wait for an answer. “We have to stay on our toes, girls.”
“Sorry we’re going to miss all the fun, but we have to
run or we’ll be late.” I slipped on my jacket and grabbed my emergency kit off the table. “Tell Ian that I said hi and that I didn’t mean to stand him up. It’s just that I didn’t remember…no, don’t tell him that. I didn’t know we had a date…no, that doesn’t sound good, either….”
“Don’t worry, dear.” Leatrice squeezed my hand. “I’ll explain that you’ve been a bit frazzled what with work and the murders.”
Exactly what a man wanted to hear. “Thanks, Leatrice.”
She followed us out the door and waved as we hurried down the stairs.
Once we were out of earshot, Kate turned to me. “I hate to be the one to tell you, Annabelle, but she’s nut-tier than a fruit bake.”
Chapter 32
“I hope you know that I cannot work under these conditions, Annabelle.” Fern clutched my arm as Kate and I entered the bride’s suite at the Park Hyatt Hotel. His sunflower yellow shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. He tapped a round hairbrush nervously in the palm of his hand.
“What now?” I dropped my heavy emergency kit on the floor and sized him up. I’d never seen him so informal or so frazzled.
“Fern!” Nadine bellowed from where she sat across the room by the window. “I’m ready to try again.”
“I’ve already done three updos and she’s ripped out every single one.” He wrung his ring-laden hands. “I haven’t even started on the bridesmaids, and they’re all supposed to be ready for pictures in two hours.”
I looked at the sullen bridesmaids who sat around the room on plush taupe furniture, silently nibbling on muffins and watching the Weather channel. The dining room table was filled from end to end with trays of fruit and baskets of bagels that looked severely picked over. Celedon green bridesmaid dresses hung off the backs of doors and over chairs, and duffel bags were scattered around the floor. A typical prewedding scene.
“Didn’t you do a trial?” Kate asked.
“Two.” Fern shot a menacing look over his shoulder at the bride. “But apparently she’s been pulling out magazine pictures of other styles since then.”
I cringed. If Nadine was as indecisive about her hair as she had been about everything else with the wedding planning, we’d never get her down the aisle.
“How I am supposed to do this?” Fern waved a glossy magazine page in front of us. The bride in the photo had her hair teased up about half a mile, with a snake winding its way around her shoulders and through the top of the hairdo. “Unless you happen to carry a spare snake?”
“Do you want me to check, Annie?” Kate motioned to the emergency kit, and then pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
“I’m waiting,” Nadine called in a singsong voice that bristled with impatience.
“I wish I did have a snake,” Fern muttered.
“I think what we need is a change of atmosphere.” I picked up the phone on the wooden end table, dialed room service and ordered three bottles of champagne. I turned off the television and turned on the stereo, adjusting the dial to a hip-hop station. “All right, ladies, champagne is on the way, so why don’t we start the celebration a little early?” The room quickly filled with excited chatter.
“Not bad.” Fern gave me an appreciative nod. “I’d better get back to work. Let me know if you make any headway on the snake.”
“This is quite a change.” Kate smirked at me. “Usually you’re warning brides not to drink so much on the wedding day.”
“In this case I think it might help.” I heard the muffled ringing of my cell phone and dug into my purse. I crossed my fingers that it wasn’t another wedding crisis as I flipped the phone open. “This is Annabelle.”
“It’s me. You’re not going to believe what I found.”
“Me who?” I asked, pressing the phone closer to my ear so I could hear over the giggling of the bridesmaids.
“Joni,” she said breathlessly. “I’m watching the tape of last week’s wedding again.”
I let out a long sigh. “So you made a copy?”
“Of course I made a copy. You think I’d give away my master?”
“Well, no.” I felt silly. “So, what did you find?”
“I got this new editing system last week. It’s the latest thing on the market. You’d kill me if you knew how much it cost, but anyway, it’s the top of the line and it has tons of new features. No one else in town has anything close to this—”
“Does this have something to do with the tape?” I tried not to sound impatient.
“I’m getting to it.” She took a quick breath and then continued. “So I was playing around with some of the new features. You know, getting to know the system. When I heard your message, I thought that I’d put the footage on the new system and see what it could do.”
“And?” I urged her on.
“By using the new zoom feature, I was able to home in on the figure that comes into the room with the chef that was killed. I cleaned up the image and focused on the name on the jackets.”
“That’s brilliant.” I held my breath. “So you know the name of the killer?”
“Actually, the names of the killers,” she said. “Plural.”
“What?” I held tight to the phone to keep from dropping it.
“That’s right. Three different dark-haired men had a part in killing the chef. I wrote their names down. Gunter, Emilio, and Jean.”
“Oh my God.” I could barely breathe. “They all did it. Jean must have gotten rid of his accomplices in case they decided to turn on him.”
“What?” Joni asked. “You’re breaking up a little.”
“Nothing.” I had to get off the phone so I could call Reese. “I’ve got to run. This is great, Joni. Thanks for everything.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m glad I decided to spring for the new system. I’ll be paying it off forever, but you should see the things it can do—”
“I’m losing you. I’m going through a tunnel.” I snapped the phone shut and turned to Kate, who was perched on the arm of the couch reading the wedding schedule.
She glanced up at me and did a double take. “You’re white as a sheet. What’s the matter? Is the photographer stuck in traffic?”
“That was Joni on the phone. She had a copy of the video and used some new system she got to zoom in and read the names of the killers on their jackets.”
“Killers?”
“Gunter, Emilio, and Jean. They all did it.”
“Tag team murder?” Kate’s hand flew to her mouth. “No way.”
“Way,” I said, and flipped open my phone again. “I have to call Reese and tell him.”
Kate shook her head. “So Jean killed everyone, then?”
“He must have.” I punched the numbers on the keypad. “Maybe he thought the others would confess or maybe he was on a roll.” I counted the rings and wondered if Reese would be working on a Saturday.
“Precinct Two.” A clipped woman’s voice answered on the fifth ring.
“Detective Reese, please. Tell him it’s Annabelle Archer and it’s an emergency.”
“Hold on.” The phone clattered against something, and I heard voices in the background. I guess their phones didn’t have hold buttons yet.
“Reese here.”
“Detective, this is Annabelle Archer.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. “Sorry to bother you on a weekend, but this is urgent.”
“It’s okay. I’m working, anyway.”
“Champagne for everyone!” one of the bridesmaids squealed as a waiter wheeled a cart with silver ice buckets into the room.
“I won’t ask what you’re doing.” He sounded amused.
“I’ll have you know I’m at a wedding.” I tried to keep the irritation from creeping into my voice. “But I called you about the Fairmont murder case. I know who killed Henri, and I have solid proof this time.”
He sighed. “At this point I’m willing to listen to anything.”
“The videographer from the wedding
kept a copy of the tape that you lost. She was able to zoom in and read the names off the jackets of the people who were in the room with Henri.”
“I’m listening.” Now he sounded interested.
“There wasn’t one killer. There were three. Gunter, Emilio, and Jean all had a part in killing their boss. It’s on the tape.” I gasped for air and waited for Reese’s reaction.
“So Jean must have gotten rid of his accomplices to make sure they wouldn’t turn on him.”
“That’s what we thought, too. Now you have to release Georgia, right? If we’ve proved that someone else did it?”
“Georgia? We released her last night. That’s one hell of a lawyer she got herself.”
“She’s free?” I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
“I’ve never seen anyone as eager to get back to work as she was. She said she hadn’t missed one of her weddings in ten years and she wasn’t going to miss the one she had today. People in your business really are obsessive, aren’t they?”
A chill rushed over me. “She’s going back to the hotel today? But Jean is still there. What if he’s the one who set her up for the murder? He’s not going to be too happy that she’s out. He’s already killed three people. What’s to stop him from killing another?”
“Calm down, Annabelle,” Reese said, but I could hear the edge in his voice. “I’m on my way to the Fairmont right now. Whatever you do, don’t go in there without me.”
“Then you’d better hurry.” I hung up and dialed the Fairmont switchboard with shaking fingers. I asked to be put through to Georgia’s office, and I held my breath as the phone rang. My heart sank as my call went into voice mail.
“Georgia, it’s Annabelle,” I said after the beep. “You’re in danger. You have to get out of the hotel right now.” I hung up the phone and dropped it in my jacket pocket. Kate caught me as I reached the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Georgia’s over there with Jean and she doesn’t know that he’s the killer. If she’s walking around the hotel, she won’t get my message in time. I have to warn her.”
