There was a second poster board on an easel with Keith’s proposal written across the top. So far I had brainstormed a mermaid theme. There were two possible venues in mind—one was Shedd Aquarium and the other was the large inside-outside heated pool at a resort in Saint Charles.
I had calls in to both venues for pricing and availability. Once the venue was set, I would need decorations. I smiled, remembering once again that Gage worked at a prop warehouse. I glanced at my watch. It was after midnight.
Cesar must have gotten busy. He hadn’t stopped by with the DVDs. I shrugged. If he didn’t show in the next day or two, I’d call him and remind him. As for now, it was time to go to bed. In the morning I would call Gage and see what he had that I could rent or purchase. Maybe he’d have a treasure chest. I could match the things that the Little Mermaid collected in the chest along with sparkly baubles to please Amy.
It was going to be an amazing proposal event.
* * *
The next morning I called Gage.
“Trinity Prop House, this is Gage speaking, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Gage, it’s Pepper. How are you?”
“Pepper, great to hear from you. How’ve you been?”
I turned my new office chair to the window to watch the Metra train rattle by. “I’m good actually. No, no, I’m great.”
“That’s good to hear. I was a bit worried about you after the last time I saw you.”
I cringed. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said.
“Yeah, I don’t know what Bobby was thinking.”
“He wasn’t,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. All in all, it was a huge wake-up call for me.” I sighed. “After seeing how happy Felicity is and how much Warren cherishes her, I realized that Bobby and I were still stuck in a high school relationship. You know, where he was the cool football guy and I was happy for any attention he gave me.” I cringed at my own description. Until that moment I hadn’t realized how true it was. I swallowed. “Not cool.”
“Bobby’s still trying to relive high school,” Gage said quietly. “Seriously, I’m glad you broke it off.”
“Me, too,” I said and took a deep breath. “I packed up all his stuff and put it in the hallway. I had no idea how much he had taken over my life. The worst thing was I let him.”
“So you are really okay with it being over?” Gage asked.
“More than okay,” I said and realized the relief I felt was real. “I’m ready for a new start. I didn’t tell you, but Warren not only paid me for planning the proposal, but he suggested I go into business for myself as a proposal planner.”
“A proposal planner? That sounds interesting. Tell me about it.”
I always liked how Gage took the time to find out what I was doing. It was so refreshing compared to Bobby. It’s why Gage and I were good friends. “I came up with a business plan. Remember how Professor Gideon made me do one for my degree? Well, I copied that and put together this whole idea. Then I gave the plan to Warren and he agreed to be my silent partner.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. Warren sounds like a great guy.”
“He is,” I said. “Felicity is happy.”
“Good for her.”
“Listen, Warren gave me the name of his buddy Keith, who was having trouble coming up with a romantic proposal and Keith agreed to let me plan it and put it in my portfolio.”
“Nice.”
“Right?” I turned back to my computer and wiggled my mouse to bring up my ideas. “Anyway I’m doing this proposal on the house, and Keith is going to let me use it in my brochures and website as an example.”
“Cool.”
“Which brings me to you. I was wondering if I could rent some stuff from the prop house. I’m doing this first one on a very limited budget since I’m not getting paid. Would it be weird for you to help out? I mean, I know you and Bobby are friends and I don’t want to jeopardize that, but . . .”
“Hey, sure, anything for you, Pepper. In fact, why don’t you come down and we can pull out some items—free of charge.”
“Oh.” Amazement at his generosity rushed through me. “That would be fabulous. I’ll be sure and let everyone know where I got the props. In fact, give me some of your business cards and I’ll send people your way.”
“That would be great,” Gage said. “When is a good time to meet?”
“How about tomorrow?” I said. “At two?”
“That works,” Gage said. “It will be good to see you.”
“It will be good to see you, too. Who knows? I may be helping you plan your proposal soon—no charge.”
There was a strange silence on the other end of the line. I never was good at awkward silences. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Okay.” Gage hung up the phone.
I frowned and looked at my phone as if it could tell me what I had done wrong. Then I shrugged. Maybe Gage and his girl were having problems. He never was much for talking about his girlfriends. I figured it was a guy thing.
Now, to call the venues and see which one was willing to work with me. It was the venue that would determine the props I needed. If I was going to pick out props tomorrow, I needed to have a venue today. There was no time to waste!
Chapter 19
I had no idea how dull watching video without music and narration could be. Yawning, I resisted the urge to fast-forward through the DVD.
Cesar had brought the raw footage by my apartment that afternoon. The DVD of the proposal was great. He’d added music and had Warren narrate. Felicity’s face shone with surprise and tears, and the romance of the entire thing had me sighing.
In fact, the video was so good I asked Cesar if I could add it to my portfolio. I had him leave me several business cards for clients as well. Even if they didn’t use my services, I didn’t mind promoting Cesar’s business. He had done such a great job.
I sat cross-legged on my bed in my purple and white polka-dotted flannel pajamas. The pants were baggy and comfy. The shirt was warm and buttoned down the front. Bobby had hated the set, but I always loved how soft and warm they were.
There was a plate of cheese and crackers and a bowl of tortilla chips next to me. I won’t mention the peanut M&M’s or the glass of wine that was half full on my nightstand. Yes, I was in full-on single-girl mode. The worst part was the crumbs in the bed. I shrugged the thought off and grabbed a triangle-shaped chip and shoved it in my mouth.
At least snack crumbs could be easily brushed away and swept up in the morning. My apartment might be small and old but it had hardwood floors. These crumbs were the hard-won crumbs of single life. It was the first time I’d eaten in bed since high school. Mom never let me eat snacks in my bedroom and then I’d been dating Bobby. I’d kept the room spotless on the off chance things got romantic.
Crumbs on a single girl’s bed were one thing. Crumbs in a bed with a guy were just tacky. At the moment I didn’t mind that I was four cats away from being a crazy cat lady. I snatched another chip and reached for my wine when something in the video caught my eye.
“What was that?” I grabbed my remote, knocking over the bowl of chips and leaning into the plate, crushing the crackers. I pressed stop and the thirty-second rewind. Mesmerized by the video, I pressed play. There it was. The clue I’d been waiting for.
Cesar had the camera on his shoulder and came down the stairs to give the viewer a shot of the plane. As he came around the front, I spotted Laura Snow in the danger zone of the plane behind the jet engines. Then I saw her opening the “authorized personnel only” door that Daniel Frasier had warned me to stay away from. That wasn’t what caught my eye. I mean, as far as I knew, Laura was authorized personnel. What caught my eye was the fact that she was clearly talking to someone.
She had her left hand on her hip and gestured with her right. Someone else was inside the door. Th
ere! Was that blob a hand that waved toward her? I stopped the video and looked at it again. It was only a glimpse and hard to tell if it was a man’s hand or a woman’s hand, but clearly someone was there. It appeared that Laura was arguing with them and they were arguing back.
Ha! I leapt out of bed, cracker crumbs tumbling about as I went closer to the screen. I paused the DVD, but even nose to television, I couldn’t tell who it was Laura argued with. Then in the next frame she must have heard a noise because she looked straight at the camera. Her eyebrows were drawn down. Her mouth tightened and her eyes flashed.
The next frame blurred to the cockpit as if Cesar had turned around quickly. Inside was Daniel—he waved to the camera and smiled. Cesar continued on to take video of the rest of the hangar. Then he scooted inside the plane and hid in the bathroom, waiting for Felicity and Warren to come in.
My heart pounded in my chest and I did a little barefoot dance in the crumbs. There was someone else on the scene. That meant we had proof that it wasn’t Warren who killed the janitor. The best part was I could mail the invitations to the engagement party and we could move forward as soon as I showed the tape to Detective Murphy.
I grabbed a broom and swept up the mess of crumbs. Then I marked the time on the DVD. Taking one final look at the video frame with the blur that was clearly someone’s hand, I wondered if the crime scene techs could tell me if it was a male hand or a female hand. If it was female, Warren would really be off the hook. Oh—wait—a female hand might implicate me. I winced at the thought. I was the only other known female at the hangar. I studied the hand and glanced at my own. It didn’t take an expert to see that I was not the person on the tape. The size and shape were nowhere near the same. That got me off the hook.
I went to sleep that night safe in the thought that I’d not only saved my sister’s engagement party, but saved her entire future. She would no longer live with the fear that Warren could be arrested any day and charged with murder. All because he was in a hangar to give her the plane proposal of her dreams.
* * *
I was up at the crack of dawn. My excitement and triumph had me dressing in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt in record time. The blue tee matched my eyes. I brushed my hair and twisted it into a messy bun. Gathered up the DVD and my handbag and keys and off I went.
Detective Murphy didn’t get in to his office until 9 A.M.
“Why are you back here, Ms. Pomeroy?”
I followed Detective Murphy from the front door to his desk and then to the police-issue coffeepot. He poured his cup full of the strong black brew and then opened ten packs of sugar.
“I have proof that Warren Evans didn’t kill the janitor,” I said. It was hard to keep my excitement out of my voice.
“Pepper.” He turned to me. His hound dog jaw shook and his thick right eyebrow rose. “What are you talking about?”
I followed him back to his desk. “I have my videographer’s raw footage right here.” I waved a copy of the disc. “Do you have a DVD player?”
“We do.” He sat down. He was so calm—almost too calm—as he eyed me and my DVD.
“Can I show you what I found?” I thought he would be more excited. I was so excited I fairly shook with energy.
“You can leave the tape here. I’ll have our team go over it.”
“But I want to show you.” My voice rose an octave. “It’s proof that someone else was there. Someone Laura Snow was talking to. In fact, it looked as if she argued with them. I think it’s the killer.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t the janitor?”
“No, I don’t think so. It was hard to tell. You see, they were behind the authorized-personnel door. The one on the back of the plane—the opening that Daniel told me about.”
“Authorized-personnel door . . .” he repeated as if he had never heard of such a thing.
“You know, the door behind the engines to the back. Daniel—the pilot . . .”
“I know who Daniel is,” Detective Murphy interjected as he stirred his coffee.
“Daniel told me that it was off-limits and for authorized personnel only.”
“And was Miss Snow authorized?”
“I imagine.” I shrugged. “But it still means she could have been arguing with the killer.”
“Does the film show where the others in the hangar were?”
“It pans to Daniel in the cockpit.”
“Anyone else?”
I wrinkled up my nose and narrowed my eyes. “No, but I know that wasn’t Warren arguing with Laura Snow.”
“I thought you said you could only see a glimpse of whomever she talked to—”
“Argued with,” I corrected. “I’m telling you she looks mad in the video. Her hands are waving about, and the tone of her voice is thick with anger.”
“Can you hear what she’s saying?”
“Well, no . . . but wait until you see her face.”
“Fine, let’s say she did argue with someone outside by the back of the plane. It doesn’t prove anything.”
“Right, but don’t you see, there was no way it could have been Warren. Really just a few minutes later Cesar is in the bathroom and the video—”
“Wait, Cesar was in the bathroom? The one with the dead body?”
I shook my head. “No, the bathroom on the plane. We put him in there to secretly record the proposal.”
“There was a guy in a private jet bathroom taping the main cabin.” He turned his head and looked at me out of the narrowed corner of his eye. “I think there are laws against that . . .”
“It’s fine.” I blew out a long breath. “Warren knew he was being taped. In fact, everyone knew but Felicity, and she has no problem with the moment being recorded. In fact, she is thrilled with it.”
“Hmmm.” He took a long slurp of his coffee.
“I’m trying to tell you that this recording is proof Warren didn’t kill the janitor.” I waved the disc at him. “There was someone else in the authorized-personnel-only part of the plane.”
“It proves nothing,” Detective Murphy said. “Only that at some point someone was in the back of the plane stowing things for the trip. You yourself said that you can’t see who the person is.”
I placed the disc on his desk and pursed my mouth. “You could ask Laura Snow. It’s a line of inquiry I know you haven’t checked because you didn’t know about it. Now you do.” I waved at the DVD. “Check it.”
Detective Murphy sipped his coffee and wiggled his computer mouse. The action brought up whatever report he had on his computer.
I waited in silence for him to say something. It was hard. I’m not good at long silences. But this time I was going to stick around until I was heard, and if that meant I had to stay in my seat and wait for Detective Murphy, then I would wait.
After what seemed like an hour, but a quick glance at the clock told me was only three minutes, he looked up. “You’re still here?”
“Of course I’m here.” I clutched the strap of my handbag.
He looked at me square on and I looked back. Finally he nodded once. “Fine. I’ll look at it.”
“Thank you!” I didn’t even try to keep the perturbed tone out of my voice. “Should I put it in the DVD player?”
“Later.”
“Oh.” My shoulders fell and my heart sank.
“You can go, Pepper.”
“You will look at it, right?” I eyed the DVD as I rose.
“I will look at it.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t lie.”
That look was clearly accusatory. “I didn’t lie, either,” I said. “I really didn’t know he was dead.”
“Have a good day, Ms. Pomeroy.” He waved his hand and pointed his head toward the door.
“Right.” It was tough to leave. I mean, how would I know if he even looked at the tape? How would I kno
w that he would try to find out who was inside the plane? And why was Laura arguing with them?
“Are you sure . . .”
“Have a good day, Pepper,” he said.
“But—”
“You have to trust me to do my job. I trust that you will spend the day doing yours.”
Ugh. He was right. I left the police station. I had venues to check on and a contract to sign. At least for today I would have to take Detective Murphy at his word.
Chapter 20
“Pepper, they arrested Warren!” Felicity’s horrified voice came through my cell phone.
I sat up in bed and ran my hand over my face. A glance at the clock told me it was 9 A.M. I had been up until two working out the details for the sunken treasure proposal. My appointment with Gage wasn’t until 11 A.M., and I had set my alarm for 9:30 A.M. in hopes of getting at least seven hours of sleep.
“What?” I pushed my black and white sleep mask up into my hair like a headband. I shoved my new pink-flowered comforter off me and swung my legs around.
“Warren, it’s on the news. Oh, Pepper! How could they do this?” Felicity’s wail could have been heard the next block over.
My fuzzy mind worked hard to put the pieces together. I picked up the remote and turned on my television. “They would not arrest Warren.” I got out of bed. “I talked to Detective Murphy yesterday. He didn’t mention a thing about bringing Warren in. In fact, we talked about the possibility of a third person on the scene.”
“It’s on the news!” Felicity stomped her foot. I could hear it hit the hardwood through the phone.
The commercial ended and a Breaking News headline was running across the screen: MILLIONAIRE ENTREPRENEUR, WARREN EVANS, ARRESTED FOR THE MURDER OF JANITOR AT THE COOK COUNTY EXECUTIVE AIRPORT.
“There must be some mistake,” I said. “It’s a typo or something.”
“It’s not a typo.” Felicity’s voice wavered. “It’s Warren. They showed him being taken away with his hands cuffed behind his back. This is terrible. What should I do?”
Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) Page 13
