When Breena joined Kelly at the sales counter, she filled her employee in on how many reservations they’d gotten for the Edit. Breena wasn’t shy about taking credit for the marketing plan. She began brainstorming ideas for the New Year while she tidied up the displays. True to her experience, Monday mornings were slow, and this snippet of data eased the guilt Kelly felt when she slipped out of the boutique to attend Diana’s funeral. Breena assured her she could handle being on her own until Pepper came in or Kelly returned.
Kelly arrived at the church, and it was packed. She was able to squeeze between two elderly women in a pew way in the back of the church. She noticed two men dressed all in black with cameras hoisted on their shoulders. What in the world? She shouldn’t have been surprised, but it appalled her. And from the grumbling the two little ladies were doing, she wasn’t alone in her assessment.
A somber tune played, and Diana’s casket was wheeled to the altar and blessed by the minister. For the next forty minutes, friends, family, and coworkers eulogized Diana. Each one of the cast members of LIL had their moment up on the altar—aka spotlight—including Janine. The two old ladies seated behind Kelly were infuriated that Janine had the nerve to speak at the funeral. Their indignation had Kelly squelching a giggle.
The service finally ended, and the mourners were exiting the church in an orderly manner. The LIL cast members all had tissues in hand, except for Janine. Instead, she had her fingers intertwined with Aaron Delacourte’s. They somberly passed Kelly’s pew. Aaron looked appropriately grief-stricken, while Janine’s head was lifted high, and a neutral expression covered her face. Kelly guessed she didn’t want to look all blubbery and ruddy for the cameras.
“Look at the hussy. Talk about brazen,” the woman muttered behind Kelly.
“She could show some respect,” the other lady said. “I don’t see Diana’s stepdaughter, do you?”
“No. Guess she’s too busy partying out in Los Angeles. Did you see the article on Lulu last month and that disgusting photograph of her dancing on top of a table in that short skirt?”
Kelly remembered the photograph. After checking the website for intel on Marvin, she’d searched for the article about Beryl Delacourte. The old lady was right; the skirt was far too short for dancing on a tabletop.
“Can’t wait for next season,” the older lady said, her tone a little gleeful.
Outside the church, Summer approached Kelly. She’d tucked her blond hair under a floppy black hat and held a sleek black satchel.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Summer dwarfed Kelly, thanks to her four-inch-heeled leather boots.
“I wanted to pay my respects.” Kelly shivered at the memory of finding Diana’s body out in the snow. She was curious about how long she’d be revisiting the image.
“The fact that Hugh is filming for the show didn’t play into your decision to attend the service?” Summer crossed her arms over her chest.
“Absolutely not. I can’t believe you’d think it would. I’ve told you I want no part of the show.”
“Hugh says otherwise.”
“He’s a manipulator. Can’t you see that?”
“Humpff.”
“Whatever, Summer. I’m freezing.”
“Wait, are you going to Aaron’s house for the reception?”
The press release stated that the burial was for immediate family only, while the reception was for all who had attended the church service. Kelly debated whether to go. She wasn’t friends with Diana, but having found her body, she felt a connection to the dead woman. Even though she’d be a stranger to Aaron, she hoped her words of sympathy would mean something to him. They had meant something to her the day she’d buried her granny.
“I am. Guess I’ll see you there.” Kelly hurried to her Jeep, waving good-bye to Summer before she huffed and spun around. She marched toward her Mercedes.
Kelly called the boutique to check in with Breena. She said Pepper had just arrived. She looked rested and wasn’t coughing. Relieved, Kelly could focus on the lengthy list of ideas Breena rattled off for marketing in the New Year. Her enthusiasm and energy were dizzying, but Kelly appreciated her part-time employee’s commitment to the boutique. After disconnecting the call, she traveled along a busy thoroughfare and turned up the volume of the Christmas carol playing on the radio. Despite burning her first batch of gingersnaps, being stalked at the cemetery, and just leaving a funeral, she would rally up a dose of holiday cheer. Her head bopped along with the snappy song, and a smile stretched along her face.
Merry, merry, merry Christmas.
What would make the moment absolutely awesome would be a cup of Holly Jolly coffee from Doug’s.
An incoming call interrupted the music and her festive mood. What did Summer want now?
“Hey, Summer, what’s up? Are you at the Delacourte house already?”
“No! I can’t believe what’s happening. The police are here! They have a search warrant.”
“Wait. Slow down. The police are where?”
“Wendy’s house. After the burial, I followed Wendy back to her house. She didn’t want to go to Aaron’s house, and I thought I’d stay with her for a little while before going to the reception. When we arrived at the house, the police were here ready to search her home. This is insane. Wendy isn’t a killer!”
“Calm down.”
“I am calm. It’s Wendy who’s out of her mind.” There was a pause, and when Summer spoke again, her voice was low. “I need help here. Come over. Now.”
Things must have been bad for Summer to admit she needed Kelly’s help. After a quick check of the time, Kelly decided she could make a quick stop at the Delacourte house and then drive to Wendy’s house.
“I’m halfway to the Delacourte house. Let me pay my condolences, and I’ll head over to Wendy’s house. Text me her address.” Before Summer could object, Kelly disconnected the call and turned off the radio. She wasn’t certain if Aaron would be back from the cemetery by the time she got to the house. If he wasn’t, she wouldn’t hang around. Summer needed her.
She switched lanes and continued along the highway. A murder, a stalker, a funeral, a search warrant, and burned cookies. Not exactly how Kelly thought she’d be spending the month of December.
Merry freakin’ Christmas.
Kelly entered the palatial foyer of Aaron Delacourte’s mansion and stood in line with several fashionably dressed women. Each wore chic black and diamonds. Kelly glanced down at her Ted Baker cashmere-blend, gray wool coat. She’d saved for months to afford the wardrobe staple from Bishop’s. Thank goodness, she had her thirty-percent employee discount because, without it, she’d never have been able to buy the coat, even on sale. Over her shoulder, she slung a sleek black quilted purse. The line moved forward as the guests continued farther into the house.
On the drive to the house, her GPS had recalculated twice because she missed turns. While the rerouting added extra time, it still surprised her Aaron had made it back to the house before she arrived. The burial ceremony must have been short.
With the woman ahead of her dramatically expressing her sadness at Aaron’s loss, Kelly caught Janine’s attention. Janine’s lanky body was pressed along the side of her fiancé, and her arm was wrapped around Aaron’s arm. Her black dress was far too short to be considered appropriate for a funeral, but Kelly had an inkling Janine hadn’t intended to be appropriate.
Drama Lady moved ahead, joining a small cluster of other guests, and together they entered a parlor off of the foyer. Kelly reached out her hand to shake Aaron’s. She recalled the wedding photo she saw of him and Diana. He hadn’t changed much since his wedding to Diana. His hair was now salt and pepper, he had deep crease lines around his dark blue eyes, and his jawline had softened with age, but he still was handsome and, by the looks of it, still very attractive to younger women.
“I’m very
sorry for your loss,” Kelly murmured. The words came automatically to her. Maybe it was because they were forever etched in her brain. She’d heard the sentiment countless times during her granny’s funeral and for weeks following. She’d accepted the condolences, although no one knew how deep her loss truly was.
“Thank you, Miss . . .” Aaron extended his hand out to Kelly. He towered over her, and his mournful gaze hit her hard, bringing back every minute of her granny’s funeral—from dressing to leave for the church to returning to Pepper’s house and collapsing in a pile of pillows on the guest bed for a good cry.
“Who invited you?” Janine’s sharp voice snapped Kelly out of her thoughts and returned her to the present. Janine had tightened her grip on Aaron and leaned close to his ear. “She’s the one I told you about.”
Aaron pulled back his hand. His demeanor shifted, and he gave Kelly a dark look. “What are you doing here?
“I’m here to offer my condolences.” Kelly didn’t want a scene, but what should she have expected with Janine present.
Her loud voice had already perked up the ears of some of the guests standing nearby.
“You should since your uncle’s wife and her bestie probably killed Diana!” Janine cocked her head sideways and pursed her lips.
Kelly twisted around, looking for a camera crew. There had to be one for Janine to be acting so badly. But there wasn’t a crew filming. Her behavior wasn’t for an audience. It was just the way she was.
“Summer didn’t murder Diana. You should be careful what you say about people.” Kelly had firsthand experience with rumors and idle gossip. While Summer wasn’t her favorite person, being accused of murder could hurt Summer’s reputation and effect Juniper.
“Are you threatening me?” Janine straightened, and her nostrils flared.
“No. I’m telling you that what you say about someone can have a big impact on their lives. Like accusing someone of murder when there’s no evidence. But since you’ve brought up the murder—like you did the day I was in your home by invitation—I’m curious why you had a restraining order against Diana.”
Janine huffed a breath. “None of your business, shopgirl.”
Wow. Janine’s nastiness was apparently boundless. “According to your bio on the show’s website, before joining the cast, you worked as a shopgirl too, until your break as a model. And now you’re engaged to the widower of a former cast member who has been murdered.”
“What are you insinuating?” Janine challenged.
“Nothing. Only stating facts. Like the fact that you met with Diana’s former housekeeper the other day. What did you two talk about?”
Aaron looked at his fiancée. “Janine, you met with Nanette? What on earth for?”
“I’ll explain, but not in front of her!” Janine whipped around and stormed out of the foyer. Her high heels clicked heavy on the marble floor.
“I must insist you leave. Now.” Aaron left no room for discussion. His words and voice were firm.
Kelly turned around and walked out of the house—one more time when all eyes were on her, and not for a good reason. There were murmurs as she passed by the line of guests that reached out to the front walk. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she was confident it wasn’t flattering.
Chapter Nineteen
Back in her Jeep, Kelly called the boutique again and updated Breena on her next stop—Wendy’s house. She provided a quick recap of Summer’s call earlier and what had happened at the Delacourte house. Being the fangirl she was, Breena ate up all the info, then reassured Kelly she had everything under control.
Kelly disconnected the call, entered Wendy’s address into her GPS, and pulled out of her space. By the time she arrived at Wendy’s house, the police were in full swing of their search of the premises. Summer dragged Kelly from the entry hall into the two-story living room. Kelly was in awe of the breathtaking views of the dunes through the wall of glass. A deck stretched along the house, invoking images of lazy Sunday mornings with the latest issue of Vogue magazine and a cup of coffee.
“Kelly, are you listening to me?” Summer let go of Kelly’s arm.
The question snapped Kelly out of her Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous daydream. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Summer heaved a sigh, and Kelly concluded she’d been hanging around the ladies too much because she was taking on their bad habits. Kelly had secretly binge watched LIL to get the lay of the land.
“They’re trashing my house! Thank goodness, Hugh doesn’t know about this or he’d have a camera crew here taping every moment of this invasion of my privacy.” Wendy, carrying a filled wineglass, came from behind the sofa and walked to an upholstered chair. After she plopped down on the chair, she took a long swig of the wine.
Kelly leaned into Summer. “Should she be drinking at a time like this?”
“Probably not. But I’m not going to try to take the glass away from her. Are you?”
“No. No, no, no.” One of the life lessons Kelly had learned from her binge watching of the show was never to come between a Long Island lady and her alcohol. Bad things happened to people who tried, and since she wasn’t a hundred percent certain Wendy was innocent, she’d play it safe.
Detective Wolman entered the living room carrying an evidence bag in her gloved hand, her badge visible on her pants belt. “What are you doing here?” Her stern look deepened as she looked at Kelly.
“I called her,” Summer said. “Wendy is very upset. Can’t you see what all of this is doing to her? I needed help since you’ve offered none. You’d think the least you could do when you search someone’s home, going through their private belongings, is to bring along someone who can help Wendy get through this.”
Wolman lowered her eyelids for a moment. Kelly guessed the maneuver was to keep from rolling her eyes at the suggestion of providing a therapist to support a murder suspect during a search for evidence.
“Mrs. Blake, we’ll take your suggestion under advisement. Now, you, Miss Quinn, can leave. Your presence here isn’t needed.” Wolman’s dismissive tone wasn’t offensive to Kelly. She was getting used to it. And, for once, she wouldn’t mind being thrown out.
“I want her here.” Wendy looked at Wolman over the rim of her glass before she set it on the end table. “Your authority is limited here. This is still my house.”
Wolman stepped forward and positioned herself in front of Wendy. “You’re right. This is your house. Look what we found in your house.” She lifted the evidence bag, and Wendy’s face paled.
Kelly and Summer shuffled to get a better view of the bag’s contents. A knife. There appeared to be blood on it.
“We found this knife in your car trunk. How did it get there, Mrs. Johnson?” Wolman lowered the bag and waited for an answer.
“It’s obvious. The killer, to frame Wendy, planted the knife,” Summer said.
“What’s obvious is we have a motive for the murder and what appears to be the murder weapon.” Wolman sounded confident and pleased with herself.
Wendy leaned to the side, looking past Wolman and directly at Kelly. “What do I do now?”
Wolman turned toward Kelly and stared down at her. The tension in the room had ratcheted up, and the weight pressed on Kelly’s shoulders. Why was Wendy asking her?
Wendy’s designer-boosted bravado was gone. Her dark eyes were watery and her brows pinched with worry and fear. The police had just found what appeared to be the murder weapon. She should be frightened to her core.
“You shouldn’t say anything without a lawyer present.” Kelly had gotten that advice from her sister a month earlier when she was considered a person of interest in a murder. It was a solid recommendation, and Wendy needed to follow it.
Wolman lowered the evidence bag and returned her attention to Wendy. She gestured for Wendy to stand up. “You can call one from the
police department. Wendy Johnson, you’re under arrest for the murder of Diana Delacourte.” Exiting the room, Wolman explained Wendy’s rights.
Kelly and Summer followed. In the entry hall, Wendy was handcuffed and escorted out of the house.
Summer rushed to the open front door and watched the detective assist Wendy into a police car. “The detective is making a big mistake. I’ll have to get Ralph to talk to the chief.”
Kelly joined Summer at the doorway in time to see the police car pull out of the driveway, though several officers remained inside the home to continue the search. She guessed they wanted to find more incriminating evidence.
“If she’s guilty, then she’s probably the person responsible for cutting your brake line and causing the crash. And for leaving the threatening note on my windshield.”
“What note? What are you talking about?” Summer stepped aside and closed the door.
“It’s a long story. Look, we’ve both done what we can for Wendy.” Kelly wasn’t as certain as her aunt about Wendy’s innocence. But somehow, she didn’t buy that Wendy would be dumb enough to leave the murder weapon in her car. Either she’d dump it in the Long Island Sound or plant it on someone else.
Kelly’s bet was on the latter. It seemed like a Long Island Ladies kind of thing to do.
Which one of the cast framed Wendy? Which lady was a murderer?
Kelly was finally able to persuade Summer to leave Wendy’s house because there wasn’t anything more either of them could do there. Wendy was on her way to the police department, and her husband had been notified. Summer reluctantly agreed and headed home.
Kelly’s plan for the night was to disconnect from the world by soaking in a bubble bath with a glass of wine. On the way to her Jeep, her phone chimed. She’d gotten a new text message. She pulled the phone out of her tote bag. The message was from Liv.
Dinner? My place? Takeout?
So much for her bubble bath. However, she had to eat, and Liv had Netflix. They could watch a chick flick or two. Kelly liked the new change of plans.
Silenced in Sequins Page 18
