Better Off Wed

by Laura Durham

  She motioned downstairs and rolled her eyes. “They arrived early.”

  “How’s it going?” Kate whispered.

  Alexandra picked up a glass of wine from the entryway table. “Do you want some?”

  “That bad, huh?” I groaned.

  “Well, they got better after my first glass.” She nudged me and giggled. “Come see for yourself.”

  We followed her down the narrow staircase to the studio. Shelves lining the back wall of the room displayed sample cakes decorated in elaborate sugar flowers and swags of edible ribbon. A whitewashed wooden table dominated most of the room and held stacks of photo albums.

  Meredith Murphy and her mother were sitting at the table flipping through pictures of wedding cakes. You’d never guess that the mother had the highlighted ponytail and too-tight top, and the daughter wore a mousy brown bob and linen blazer. I always felt as if I’d stepped into a real-life Freaky Friday when I saw the two together.

  Mrs. Murphy glanced up at us as we sat down across from them. “I’m glad you’re here. Which is fancier, Annabelle, buttercream icing or fondant?”

  I tried not to cringe as I imagined Mrs. Murphy’s concept of fancy. I should consider myself lucky that she didn’t want a Chippendale’s dancer jumping out of the cake.

  “For your July wedding, I’d go with fondant. Since it has an elastic texture, as opposed to the softness of the buttercream, fondant will hold up to the heat much better.”

  Mrs. Murphy nodded. “We like the big bows on the top with the ribbons coming down the sides.” She held up a laminated photo of a five-tiered cake dominated by a cascade of bows and ribbons.

  “I like the cakes with just a few sugar roses, Mother.” The bride’s voice hardly rose above a whisper.

  “Don’t be silly, Meredith,” her mother snapped. “The bow on the cake will match the bow on your invitation.”

  “We haven’t made a final decision on invitations yet, and I don’t like the one with the bow.”

  This could get ugly. I’d seen fistfights break out over bows before. “Perhaps you could select two different cake designs and wait until later to decide which one fits the design of the wedding.”

  “I’d be happy to sketch out two options for you,” Alexandra said. Her expression said she would do anything to get them out of there. A glass of wine was starting to sound good.

  “Thank you.” The bride’s voice sounded louder, and she almost smiled.

  “Whatever you want, Meredith.” Her mother pressed her lips together and tossed her ponytail off her shoulder. “After all, it is your wedding.”

  Kate kicked me under the table. We always said that if we had a dollar for every time we heard that phrase, we’d be millionaires. If we had a dollar for each time it was sincere, we’d barely be able to split a latte.

  We followed the bride and her mother up the stairs and said good-bye to them at the door so we could debrief with Alexandra. I marveled at how the mother could walk down the steep stairs to the sidewalk in her high-heeled mules. I’d never seen the woman wearing age-appropriate clothing and shuddered to think of her interpretation of a proper mother-of-the-bride dress. I hoped there wasn’t a line of evening wear tube tops.

  Kate let out a long breath after the door closed. “What is it with these mothers?”

  “They aren’t all bad, Kate. Remember the one last year who baked us cookies?”

  Kate counted off a finger. “That’s one.”

  “I heard you got rid of our worst one the other night.” Alexandra crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t forget I had to do four tastings for Mrs. Pierce to make sure the crème brulee filling for her cake had enough crackle for her.”

  In all the chaos, it had slipped my mind that Alexandra had done the wedding cake for the Pierce wedding. By the time we found the body, the cake had been set up for hours and she had been long gone.

  “You make it sound like we killed her,” I said.

  Alexandra winked. “I just wish I could have helped whoever did.”

  I shuddered. “Don’t joke about it. I think we’re still on the suspect list. I know Richard is.”

  Alexandra’s mouth fell open. “They think he had something to do with the death?” She knew Richard well since she created the cakes for almost all his parties. “Have they met Richard?”

  “The only reason he’s a suspect is because of the poison,” I explained.

  Alexandra shook her head. “Richard would never ruin his food, even to murder someone he despised.”

  “Did the police question you?” Kate sounded hesitant. “After all, you did bake the wedding cake.”

  Alexandra’s face lit up. “Actually a cute detective came by yesterday. Since my cake wasn’t cut or served, he said questioning me was just a formality.”

  “That must have been a short interview.” I couldn’t help hoping that Reese hadn’t spent long with the city’s sexiest baker.

  “I did tell him about the fight I witnessed between Mr. and Mrs. Pierce.”

  I exchanged a look with Kate. “When did you see them fighting?”

  Alexandra paused as if trying to remember. “I left the museum as the bridal party arrived to take photos. I remember seeing the Pierces in the entrance foyer as I went out the front door. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were definitely arguing.”

  “Did the detective seem interested in what you saw?” Kate asked.

  Alexandra shrugged. “He didn’t seem too surprised. I guess investigating all of Mrs. Pierce’s fights is a big job. He seemed to be pretty focused on the food angle. Bad luck for Richard, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be cleared soon,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “He planned to go talk to someone this morning.”

  Alexandra gave us a mischievous grin. “Tell him if he ends up in jail, I’ll bake him a cake with a nail file in it.”

  “I don’t think that would do any good,” I sighed. “Knowing Richard, he’d just give himself a pedicure.”

  “I want to hear more about the wedding and the murder.” Alexandra looked positively giddy. “Can you stay for lunch?”

  “I wish we could.” Boy, I meant it. Alexandra could cook as expertly as she baked, and my stomach growled at the thought of her curried chicken salad. “We have a full day of appointments.”

  “I should get to work on those two sketches anyway.” Alexandra gave us air kisses. “I promise to make the drawing of the cake with bows hideous.”

  I smiled all the way to the car imagining Mrs. Murphy’s face when she got the sketches.

  “Are you sure you still want to go ‘pay condolences?’” Kate made air quotes with her fingers.

  “It’s the least we can do, Kate. Who knows what we’ll find out?”

  “I think this is an exercise in fertility, but okay.”

  I shook my head as I stepped into the car. “Just drive.”

  Chapter 10

  I still don’t understand why we’re offering condolences for a person we couldn’t stand.” Kate sounded exasperated as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. If she saw me glaring at her, she pretended not to notice.

  “Because it’s the polite thing to do, Kate. Anyway, we’ve got a good reason. Self-preservation.”

  “Hey, it’s not me they’re after.” She paused behind a line of cars waiting to turn left.

  “If I get killed, you’re out of a job, remember?”

  “Good point. But explain to me again how this is going to help us find the killer.”

  “I’m willing to bet that one of her husbands killed her. Either Dr. Pierce or her ex-husband, Dr. Harriman. You heard what Alexandra said about Dr. Pierce.” I motioned for Kate to turn before we reached Dupont Circle. “So I figure we should hang around people who know them and keep our ears open.”

  “But we’re going to the bride’s house first.” Kate sounded confused. “You think she had something to do with it?”

  “We’re just acting co
ncerned. I don’t think Elizabeth could disagree with her mother, much less kill her.”

  Kate shook her head. “You know what they say about the nice, quiet ones?”

  “Not this quiet one. Park anywhere in the next three blocks. Her house is right behind embassy row.”

  Kate backed into a parking space and ran one tire up onto the curb. “Maybe she got fed up with her mother controlling her life and flipped out.”

  “And ruined her own wedding?”

  “You’re right. Murdering her mother is plausible, but ruining her own wedding is inconceivable.” Kate stepped out of the car and smoothed down her black wrap dress. “Which house is hers?”

  I looked down at the address on the slip of paper and pointed to a red brick townhouse a few doors down. Mrs. Pierce had run the entire wedding operation out of her home in Chevy Chase, and I could drive there in my sleep, but I’d never been to the bride’s house before.

  “Do you think you could have picked a less somber dress, Kate?” I eyed her clingy dress with a plunging front.

  “What are you talking about? It has long sleeves and it’s black.”

  “I’m talking about the neckline. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘mourning,’ does it?” I’d chosen a black crepe suit that buttoned to my collarbone and had a knee-length skirt. I felt like a nun next to Kate.

  “I think it’s a good compromise.” Kate walked up to the front door and pressed on the bell.

  “What kind of a compromise?”

  “I’m sad that I found a dead body, but I’m not all that sad that it was Clara Pierce.” Kate pulled the front of the dress closed a fraction. “It also transitions from day to evening beautifully.”

  The front door opened, and Dr. Andrew Donovan stood in the doorway wearing wrinkled chinos and an untucked green Polo shirt. He looked nothing like the dashing groom from the wedding night. I stepped forward and took his hand.

  “Annabelle and Kate from Wedding Belles. Your wedding planners.” I hurried my prepared speech. “We just wanted to stop by and check on Elizabeth. How is she?”

  “Of course, I remember you.” Dr. Donovan stepped back into the house and opened the door. “Please come in.”

  I pushed Kate inside and closed the door behind me. “We don’t want to intrude. We’re just so worried about her.”

  “We grow so attached to our brides.” Kate had such a serious expression on her face that I had to avert my eyes to keep from laughing. Kate didn’t grow attached to anyone who didn’t have an Adam’s apple.

  The entry hall smelled like lilies, so I wasn’t surprised when I spotted several flower arrangements in neutral shades clustered on an entrance table, unopened cards protruding from the tops.

  “It’s kind of you to come.” The groom showed us into the den right off the entryway. Done in dark wood and leather, this was clearly the groom’s domain. I perched on the edge of a wingback chair, and Kate sat on the burgundy leather couch. “I’m afraid Elizabeth isn’t handling her mother’s death well. You saw how she went to pieces at the wedding.”

  “Is she at home?” I asked.

  “We’ve had to sedate her.” Dr. Donovan shook his head. “She’s not in any condition to see visitors.”

  I tried to sound solemn. “Of course not.”

  “We spoke to the police, of course.” The doctor picked at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “But there’s not much we can tell them. Did the police question you?”

  “Yes, but we don’t know anything either,” Kate said. “Aside from finding the body.”

  “In all the drama, I’d forgotten that you two found my mother-in-law. That must have been quite a shock.”

  “You can say that again.” Kate shuddered, and I shot her a look. Before I could try to smooth over Kate’s blunder, my cell phone began ringing to the tune of “Here Comes the Bride.” I fumbled in my bag to find it.

  The groom stood and managed a weak smile. “Do you mind if I go check on Elizabeth for a moment? I don’t like to leave her alone for too long.” Dr. Donovan backed out of the room.

  I retrieved my phone, and Kate stuck a finger down her throat. She hated my personalized ring.

  “Wedding Belles, this is Annabelle.”

  “Hi, Annabelle. It’s Kimberly Kinkaid.” The bride for this Saturday. I always gave brides my cell phone number the week of the wedding and not a moment sooner.

  “Hi, Kimberly. Is everything okay?”

  “Well, I know this number is for important calls, but I need your help with something.” Her voice sounded even more tentative than usual.

  I braced myself for a bridal breakdown. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the rose petals outside during the ceremony.”

  “The ones that the florist is going to scatter down the aisle?”

  “Right,” she barreled on. “What if the wind blows?”

  “What do you mean?” I tried not to sound impatient.

  “I don’t want them blowing out of the aisle. I want them in a straight line.”

  “Well, there’s not much we can do if the wind blows them around, Kimberly.”

  “Can you pin them down to the ground?”

  Was she serious? “You want me to pin the rose petals in place?” I heard Kate stifle a laugh, but I couldn’t look at her for fear I would burst into laughter.

  “Or maybe there’s a special adhesive to glue them to the grass?” It was official. She had lost her mind.

  I needed to get off the phone before Dr. Donovan came back and heard me debating ways to adhere flower petals to grass. I kept my voice steady, despite Kate’s muffled cackling behind me. “Why don’t I check on that special adhesive and give you a call back?”

  I flipped my phone off and dropped it in my bag. “Nice, Kate. We’re paying condolences and you’re laughing your head off.”

  “I couldn’t help it.” Kate stood up and walked around the room. “I’m sure Dr. Donovan didn’t hear me and even if he did, I’ll bet he wouldn’t care.”

  My jaw dropped. “You don’t think he’d care that you’re laughing while his new bride is practically in a coma?”

  “I just mean that he has so much on his mind that he wouldn’t notice. I didn’t catch him peeking down my dress once.”

  “I wasn’t aware that cleavage is a test of how distraught someone is.” I leaned back in the wingback chair and ran my fingers along the brocade fabric.

  Kate faced the wall, studying a row of framed diplomas. “It’s one of them.”

  I held up a hand. “Spare me the others.”

  “Check out this guy’s credentials.” Kate whistled. “No wonder Mrs. Pierce adored him so much. Princeton undergrad. Harvard Med.”

  I walked up next to Kate. “She wouldn’t have accepted anything less. Both her husbands went to Ivy League schools, too.”

  “Talk about being label conscious. At least he seems like a nice guy.” She dug a small cellophane bag from her purse and extended it to me. “Gummy bear?”

  I took a squishy red bear and popped it in my mouth, grateful for the rush of sweetness. “Yeah. With all these fancy diplomas, you’d think he’d be a pompous jerk.”

  “He’s a bit dull for my taste, but nice enough, I suppose,” Kate said as she chewed a mouthful of gummies.

  “At least he isn’t a groomzilla.” We’d had a few grooms who could give crazy brides a run for their money.

  “True, but this visit has been a total waste if we’re supposed to be looking for clues.” Kate tugged her dress together in the front. “What’s our next stop?”

  “Mrs. Pierce’s house. It should be the perfect opportunity to talk to Dr. Pierce.”

  “So after that, all we have to worry about is finding the ex-husband?”

  “Right.” I sat back down and leaned my head against the chair. “Dr. Harriman. I remember him from the ceremony, but only vaguely.”

  “I might be able to assist you in that regard.” Just then, a tall man with
dark, silvering hair stepped into the room. “I’m Dr. Harriman.”

  Chapter 11

  Now that you’ve found me, how can I be of service?” Dr. Harriman took a few long strides into the room and sat down in the armchair across from me. “Are you friends with Elizabeth?”

  I let myself breathe again, and I could see Kate relax as she sat down next to me. He must not have overheard much of our conversation.

  “Actually, Dr. Harriman, we’re your daughter’s wedding planners.” I managed a smile in his direction. “We wanted to offer our condolences to the family.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you.” He pulled a cigar out of the pocket of his tweed jacket and rolled it back and forth between his thumb and index finger. “My ex-wife’s death has been a terrible shock to us all.”

  “I can only imagine, sir.” I shook my head along with him. Right. He probably couldn’t wait for us to leave so he could light up his cigar and celebrate.

  Dr. Harriman pocketed the cigar again. “Of course it’s hardest on Elizabeth. She’s been hysterical since they found Clara at the reception. I came over to be here with her and help her cope with the tragedy.”

  “Of course.” I pulled my skirt down over my knees. I hoped Kate would get my hint and do the same thing. “Unfortunately, we’re the people who found Mrs. Pierce.”

  He shifted his eyes from me to Kate. “Yes. I remember seeing you with the police.”

  “You were one of the doctors called to the scene of the crime, right?” Kate’s eyes darted to me. Surprising that she remembered anyone being around except the cute police officers.

  Dr. Harriman looked at his hands and nodded. “I couldn’t help her though. She was dead by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs.”

  “So the fall caused her death then?” I tried to make my question sound casual.

  He glanced up at me. “What else could it have been?”

  Kate gave a loud, hacking cough, and Dr. Harriman stood up to hand her his handkerchief. Kate’s dress gaped open as she reached forward, and I motioned for her to close it as the doctor turned to sit back down. She ignored me.