Murder of a Wedding Belle

by Denise Swanson

  Tabitha answered for the bride, “It’s the antique bouquet holder Paige and I found for her.”

  “What bouquet holder?” Riley objected. “You guys never gave me any antique holder.”

  Tabitha turned to Paige. “Where is it?”

  “Oops!” Page widened her eyes. “I forgot all about it. It must still be at home.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame,” Skye quickly interjected, not wanting a bridal meltdown. “But your grandma’s hanky is old, so you’re covered.” Before Riley could react, Skye signaled to Allison to throw open the ballroom doors. The string ensemble began playing Pachelbel’s Canon and the wedding officially began.

  CHAPTER 25

  Icing on the Cake

  As Skye walked down the aisle, she grinned at her beaming grandmother, but her thoughts were on what Tabitha and Paige had just said about the murder weapon. Paige claimed she’d forgotten the antique bouquet holder at home, but wouldn’t she have told Tabitha that earlier or even had someone send it by overnight mail to Scumble River? Was Paige the murderer? An antique bouquet holder was the weapon used to bash in Belle’s skull. How many of those things could be floating around this wedding? Still, what could the matron of honor’s motive possibly be?

  Skye needed to talk to Wally ASAP, but she couldn’t exactly whip out her cell phone to make a call now. With the consoling thought that Paige wasn’t going anywhere until the ceremony was over, Skye turned her attention back to the proceedings at hand. A moment later, the music swelled and everyone stood to watch the bride’s entrance.

  Catching her breath, Skye stared in awe. Riley truly was a fairy-tale princess. Her silver-blond hair, gathered in a waterfall of curls, was luminous under the gold-embroidered veil, and she appeared ethereal in her pearl silk wedding gown. Looking straight ahead, a secret smile on her shimmery pink lips, she seemed to float toward her groom.

  As Skye glanced over at Nick, who was gazing at his bride with an expression of both pride and triumph, she finally understood why such a rich and powerful man put up with her demanding cousin. May had mentioned that Nick collected art; clearly Riley was his ultimate acquisition.

  After the ceremony, the bridal party and the guests moved to the patio. Skye excused herself, pausing only long enough to hear the trumpeters and watch the butterflies being released; then she confirmed that the mixologist was on duty behind the monogrammed ice bar that was carved to look like Riley’s veil, and the actors dressed as fairy-tale characters were all present.

  Assured that the cocktail party was all set to begin, Skye tried Wally’s cell, but the call went directly to voice mail. She left a message for him to contact her immediately, then went to check on the rest of the vendors. The caterer was busy sending trays of crab claws and beggar’s purses out to the hungry crowd, and Skye snatched one of the tiny caviar and cream dumplings as she moved to the reception tent.

  The photo booth, cigar roller, candy bar, ice sculpture, and martini luge were all in place. The DJ and band were setting up, and the “living buffet” had just walked in the door. Skye greeted the woman who would be dressed in a Cinderella gown—the skirt of which would be a round table filled with desserts. The performer would move among the guests once dinner was over.

  Satisfied that all was in order, Skye tried calling Wally again but still was sent to his voice mail. He hadn’t attended the ceremony, and she wondered whether he’d gotten hung up interrogating Earl Doozier. Perhaps, since neither the groom nor the best man had been taken into the police station for questioning, the Red Ragger had been unable to identify the man who’d been arguing with Belle.

  Back at the cocktail party, Skye divided her time between watching Riley bask in the limelight and avoiding all the relatives who thought this was the opportune moment to question Skye about when she was going to get married.

  The two family members Skye couldn’t dodge were her mother and grandmother. May and Cora found her behind a dragonwood branch tree and dragged her out into the middle of the party.

  Cora hugged her, then announced to the guests milling around them, “My granddaughter planned this whole wedding.”

  “Not really, Grandma.” Skye blushed. “I just carried out the plans that were already in place.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” May put her arms around Skye. “And you were the prettiest bridesmaid, too!”

  Wow! “Thanks, Mom.” Skye couldn’t remember the last time her mother had called her pretty or said she was proud of her. Maybe all the agony of this past month had been worth it.

  Skye had just asked Allison to begin directing the crowd into the reception tent when Wally finally stepped onto the patio. Leaving the event coordinator in charge, Skye hurried over and led him back into the clubhouse.

  Once they were in the dressing room with the door closed, she said, “Did you get my messages? Why are you so late?”

  “Sorry.” He kissed her cheek and said, “Earl went and drank himself into a near coma. I’ve been waiting for him to come to.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, but he wasn’t coherent until about an hour ago.” Wally shook his head. “And his information was only marginally helpful.”

  “How so?”

  “The good news is he was sure your new cousin-in-law wasn’t the man he saw arguing with Belle.”

  “And the bad news?” Skye was relieved Nick was in the clear.

  “He couldn’t say for sure it was Hathaway.”

  “So Zach is still a suspect.” Skye tried to think what motive the best man could have to kill Belle.

  “What’s going on here? Your messages sounded urgent.”

  “I found out something involving Paige just before we walked down the aisle.”

  “What?” Wally asked.

  “She and Tabitha bought an antique bouquet holder for Riley to have as her ‘something old,’ but Paige claims she forgot it at home.”

  “So the weapon wielded by the killer was last in the possession of the matron of honor,” Wally murmured. “And if she didn’t know it was used in the murder, why claim she left it in California?”

  “That’s right.” Skye froze; the notion that had been bothering her all day suddenly crystallized. “Oh, my gosh! It wasn’t Zach; it was Paige.”

  “Explain.” Wally pulled a notebook from his suit jacket pocket.

  “Okay.” Skye gathered her thoughts. “We know that Belle had no qualms about seducing men that most women would think were off-limits. Brian was married; Hale was much too naive for her. She even seduced the bride’s father on one of her previous weddings. So why not boink one of the grooms?”

  Wally raised an eyebrow.

  “And we know she gave Bunny the counterfeit money—not many people carry that much cash, except maybe someone who has just received a blackmail payment to keep from telling a wife about an affair with her husband. Which could be what Earl heard Belle and Zach arguing about.”

  “That’s a big leap of logic to make.”

  “Except ...” Skye slapped her forehead. “I just remembered something. At the attendants’ party Saturday night, I heard a couple arguing. The woman said something like, ‘How could you?’ And the guy said he was sorry. Then the woman said, ‘But all that money.’ And now that I think about it, the voices sounded a lot like Paige and Zach.”

  “But why were the bills counterfeit, and why would Belle use her own funds for a wedding-related expense?” Wally asked.

  “I don’t have an answer to the first question, but the second is easy. Bunny wouldn’t take a check, and Belle could just reimburse herself.”

  “Anything else?” Wally’s expression was skeptical. “Most of what you’ve said is conjecture.”

  “Yes.” Skye’s voice grew more confident. “Think about it. The two-thousand-dollar weekly deposits into Belle’s bank account. We know it’s not from her family, and it exactly matches the amount Belle gave Bunny.”

  “Okay.” Wally was beginning to look convinced. “Let’s
see how this would have worked. Early afternoon Saturday, Zach argues with Belle but pays her to keep quiet about their affair. Later Belle uses the money, which turns out to be counterfeit, to bribe Bunny. That evening Paige and Zach argue, and when they get home from the party, Paige goes to tell Belle she knows about her screwing Zach. Belle and Paige fight, which Hallie overhears, and then Paige smacks Belle in the head with the antique bouquet holder. Paige stuffs the unconscious vic into the floral refrigerator, where you find her Sunday morning.”

  “Yes.” Skye ran the scenario through her head. “What do you think?”

  “I think you could be right. One or two of these points might be circumstantial, but you’ve come up with quite a list, and juries have found people guilty on much less than this.” Wally sighed. “Still, I wish we had hard evidence.”

  “Maybe we do.” Skye smiled. “Remember the abrasions on Belle’s face? Paige was wearing a green dress with zippers running up both sleeves and down the front. I’ll bet that when she hit Belle those zippers scratched her face. And the reason no incriminating fingerprints were found was because Paige had on lace gloves that night.”

  “We need to take her and Zach in for questioning.” Wally took out his cell. “I’ll call for backup and get a warrant to search the Hathaways’ cottage for that dress. If Belle’s DNA is caught in the zippers, that’ll convict Paige.”

  Skye glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly time for the guests to go into the tent for dinner. I need to line up the bridal party for their grand entrance. Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” Wally held the door open for her. “I can keep an eye on the Hathaways until Martinez and Quirk get here.”

  The last of the guests were entering the tent when Skye walked onto the patio, and Riley hurried over to her. “We have a problem.” For a moment Skye wondered how the bride had found out that her matron of honor and best man were about to be arrested, but Riley continued, “Even though the invitations clearly said adults only, some of my dumb-ass relatives showed up with their squalling brats, so we don’t have enough tables and chairs.”

  Skye thought fast. “I’ll find Allison and ask if they have any extra tables; we can take the chairs from the ballroom.”

  “I’m not going in until everyone’s seated.” Riley thrust out her bottom lip. “I don’t want people watching the tables being set up instead of me.”

  “Fine.” Skye turned, saying over her shoulder to Wally, “Help Riley line up the wedding party. I’ll be right back.”

  It took nearly half an hour, but tables were found, chairs were moved, and all the guests were finally seated. Skye cued the DJ, then got in line. As Hale and Hallie’s entrance was announced, Quirk and Martinez appeared on the patio.

  From her position in front of the matron of honor, Skye observed her out of the corner of her eye as Wally talked to the two uniformed officers. Paige’s normally creamy skin had turned the color of sour milk, beads of sweat clung to her upper lip, and the pulse in her throat was visible. When Quirk glanced at her, Paige’s breathing quickened and she edged backward.

  Was she looking for an escape route? Skye tried silently to convey to Wally to get the show on the road, before Paige bolted. But instead of immediately taking her into custody, Martinez pointed to Paige.

  Damn! The inexperienced officer had made a rookie mistake by telegraphing her intention to the suspect. It was clear that now Paige was on red alert. She held herself stiffly, and her gaze darted around the patio.

  A moment later, Martinez started toward Paige, and Skye watched in alarm as the maid of honor kicked off her shoes, gathered up her huge bouffant skirt, slipped a derringer from the holster strapped to her leg, and took off running.

  Even wearing the cumbersome bridesmaid’s dress, Paige was fast, but Martinez was only a few steps behind her. While Quirk secured Zach, Wally ran after the two women. Skye followed, but she was nowhere near as quick—her dyed-pink silk high heels slowed her down considerably.

  Paige had entered the reception tent at the rear and was darting among the seated guests. At first the crowd thought she was a part of the entertainment, but as Paige careened off a table and a centerpiece smashed to the floor, a wave of hysteria swept the crowd. Screams ripped through the air, and people tipped over tables, scrambling to get away from the crazed woman. Riley’s beautiful reception was turning into a scene from the Titanic.

  Martinez zipped around a tuxedo-clad waiter, then closed in on the runaway matron of honor as Paige neared the front of the tent. At the same time, Wally, who had taken a different path, came at her from the side.

  With his gun drawn, Wally shouted to Paige, “Put your weapon down.”

  Paige jerked toward Wally and shot. For a long second, the scene seemed frozen, but an instant later Wally sprang into action, tackling her and knocking the gun from her hand. Both teetered for a moment, then, almost in slow motion, toppled backward. With a giant splat, Paige landed dead center in the wedding cake, followed by Wally, who took out the remaining layers.

  Skye cringed as she simultaneously heard the blown-sugar ornaments shatter and saw the Swarovski crystals fly into the air like beads being thrown from a Mardi Gras float.

  A nanosecond later, Wally grabbed Paige and hauled her upward. “You have the right to remain silent.” As he finished reading her rights, he handcuffed her and marched her out of the tent, pink frosting blooms dropping off them like a flower girl’s trail of rose petals.

  Skye stared in horror at the destroyed wedding cake, then buried her head in her hands. They had caught the murderer, but Riley was going to kill her.

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  EPILOGUE

  Happily Ever After (or Not)

  Skye smiled at the sounds of hammering and men clomping overhead in her master bathroom. Tomorrow would be exactly two weeks since the Erickson-Jordan wedding to end all weddings, and the construction crew had begun the renovations on her second floor. The local animal shelter had already received the check Skye had promised herself she would send.

  To Skye’s surprise, Riley had not blamed her for the ruined cake or the arrest of the matron of honor. In fact, once the mess had been cleaned up, Skye had been astonished when her cousin had gone on with the reception as if she wasn’t at all bothered by what had happened.

  After that, Riley had actually loosened up, becoming the lovable girl Skye remembered. Furthermore, in the end, before riding off into the sunset with her fairy-tale prince, Riley had handed Skye a check for the full amount she was owed and assured her that Nick would buy her wedding dress as promised. No mention of the event’s imperfections had been made.

  Over the remodeling noise, Skye heard her telephone ringing. She grabbed the handset from the kitchen and went out the back door. The landscaping team had finished their work the day before, so outdoors was the only place that was quiet.

  “Hi, sugar.” Wally’s smooth baritone flowed from the receiver, reminding her of another shocker—his suggestion that she postpone her answer to his marriage proposal until after the case against Paige had been wrapped up. “It’s done. I’ll pick you up at five thirty.”

  “Great.” He’d told her last night that the case would be delivered to the district attorney for prosecution today.

  “We have reservations at seven at Tru. I hope you have your answer ready.”

  “I do,” Skye promised him. “Do you have time to tell me how it all ended up?”

  “Definitely.” His tone was teasing. “I know your curiosity is killing you, and I don’t want to discuss it tonight.”

  “Hey, I figured out who the murderer was; I deserve to know the rest of the story.”

  “You’re right.” Wally’s voice grew serious. “The DNA evidence came through, and it was Belle’s tissue caught in the sleeve zippers on Paige’s dress.”

  “Phew.” Skye sat on her back step.

  “When Zach and Paige heard the news, they both accepted plea bargains.”

 
“I suppose that’s for the best. It will sure save the taxpayers a lot of money.” Skye was disappointed that the Hathaways wouldn’t be punished to the full extent of the law, but she knew that neither she nor Wally had any say in the matter. “Now, tell me all the details.”

  “Zach admitted that he was being blackmailed by Belle over a fling they’d had while she was working as the bridal consultant for his wedding.”

  “Right.”

  “Because his wife was getting suspicious about the money missing from their account, he paid her off in counterfeit hundreds he’d purchased for pennies on the dollar through some underworld connection he had via his construction firm.”

  “Sure. After nearly six months, two thousand a week is hard to cover up.” Skye tapped her foot. “What happened then?”

  “Paige Hathaway saw her husband give Belle the bogus bills and confronted him. They fought during the attendants’ party and he admitted to the affair.”

  “Was that when Paige decided to kill Belle?” Skye asked.

  “No. It was when he told her he’d paid Belle off in funny money. Paige, being smarter than her husband, recognized that passing counterfeit currency was not a good idea.” Wally sounded amused. “Adultery she could overlook, but committing a federal offense was another matter. Money was her main motivator.”

  “Geez Louise.” Skye rolled her eyes.

  “And as luck would have it, because Paige was smashed when she and Zach got back to the motor court after the party, she decided she not only had to confront Belle right that minute; she also had to give Iris the antique bouquet holder she’d bought for Riley’s flowers.”

  Skye shook her head. “Drunks.” Their actions rarely made any sense.

  “She found Belle alone in the storage cottage,” Wally said, then added, “We have no idea what Belle was doing there at one in the morning.”