by Laura Durham
“That’s very comforting,” I said, getting out and following Kate toward the people clustered around the shiny-chrome Harleys in front of the church. Each bike had a large American flag attached to its bumper that waved in the wind.
I felt a nervous flutter as I took in the number of tattoos, piercings, black bandanas, and leather in the group. Most of the men had either sun-weathered faces or beards, and the women showed cleavage or midriffs or both, despite the cold weather.
I spotted Slim, and he waved a hand in greeting as we approached. “You made it. Wasn’t sure if the idea of a bunch of bikers might have scared you away.”
“We’re tougher than we look,” Kate rested one hand on her jutted-out hip.
“We work with brides,” I said. “Not much scares us anymore.”
Slim chuckled. “Fair enough. You’re with me and she’s with Stray Dog.” He handed us both black skullcap helmets before hooking one over his own head. He threw a leg over the seat of a low motorcycle and motioned behind him. “Hop on.”
I watched Kate jump on behind the stubbly younger man from the bar as he revved his engine. I eyed Slim’s bike for a second before taking a deep breath and straddling the seat behind him, the large flag at my back. He gunned the motor, and I threw my arms around his waist seconds before we lurched forward. As the other bikes around me roared to life and we left the parking lot in a double line, I pressed my eyes closed.
Since we were still in the city, I knew we weren’t going very fast, but the heavy vibration of the bike and the throaty rumbling of the engine made me tighten my grip. I felt the wind whip my face and cut through my jeans as we accelerated. I opened my eyes long enough to see we were heading out of DC, then I closed them again. As I concentrated on breathing and trying not to freeze to death, I huddled behind Slim and felt grateful that he wasn’t so slim.
After a while, the bike slowed, the wind died down, and Slim leaned into a turn. I blinked a few times as we pulled up to the entrance to a cemetery and tried to loosen my grip on the big man in front of me. I heard Kate whoop as the entire procession of bikes rolled to a stop.
“That was amazing,” she said, running up to me and thumping me on the back. “Wasn’t it?”
I pulled off my helmet and tried to force my frigid lips into a believable grin. “Amazing.”
Slim twisted around and winked at me. “You don’t look too worse for wear.”
I peeled myself from the leather seat and held onto the back of the bike for a moment, feeling like my entire body was still vibrating. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“Cheese and crackers! Annabelle? Kate?”
Mack’s voice made me turn. “Surprise,” I managed to say in a steady voice.
The burly florist gaped at us, his mouth a perfect circle surrounded by his dark-red goatee. “What are you two doing here?”
“What do you think?” I asked. “We’re trying to gather more information about anyone who might have left baby Merry, remember?”
Mack’s eyebrows lifted, then his eyes slid away from mine. “Of course. I guess I didn’t know you were so determined.”
Kate elbowed him. “You know Annabelle once she gets her teeth into an investigation.”
“So no luck so far?” Mack asked.
“Not really,” I admitted. “My only lead is Francie at Bedlam.”
“The bartender?” Mack asked. “I don’t know if you talked to her for long, but she’s not the maternal type.”
“All the more reason she’d want to give up a baby,” I said.
Mack looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “If she’d gotten pregnant, maybe, but that skinny thing hasn’t gained a pound in all the time I’ve known her.”
I felt deflated, even though I knew she’d been a long shot.
Kate put an arm around my shoulders. “I guess it’s back to the drawing room.”
“Or the drawing board,” I said and couldn’t help noticing Mack trying to hide his pleasure.
Before I could ask him if I was wasting my time searching for this mystery mother, I heard loud voices from across the street.
Mack’s face darkened. “Diddly darn, those people make me so mad I could spit!”
Knowing Mack and his aversion to cursing, these were harsh words. I followed his narrowed eyes to the small group of protestors across from us holding neon-hued signs and chanting behind a police barrier.
Kate put a hand over her mouth. “Those signs are horrible. What’s wrong with those people?”
Mack’s eyebrows pressed together. “That so-called church thinks they have the right to pass judgment on the entire world.”
I glanced behind me at the gravesite with a dark-green tent erected over several rows of chairs. Sprays of white flowers on stands crowded the gravestone. “Whose funeral is this?”
“A soldier killed in combat,” Soul Man said, joining us. His wife stood a few feet away talking to some of the other women.
I felt a lump in my throat and rising fury at the protestors. “So what do we do?”
The biker preacher crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head toward the small but noisy group. “Since we’ve been invited by the family, we’re going to move a row of bikes in front of them so the family can’t see or hear the protest when they arrive.”
I balled my hands into fists and felt my planner instinct kick in. “Let’s do it.”
Slim nodded at me and got back on his bike with me behind him. Stray Dog and Kate followed us and about ten other bikers as we positioned ourselves in front of the meager protest. The shouts were louder since they were right behind me, and I twisted to see a wiry gray-haired man shaking a sign so close I could have reached out and grabbed it. I fought the instinct to snatch it from him and whack him over the head.
“I’ll stay on the bike and rev the engine as needed,” Slim said. “You take the flag and stand in front of me to block the view.”
As I jumped off the bike and pulled the flag from its holder, I glanced up and saw the woman next to the gray-haired man staring at me. Unlike the frenzied man beside her, she didn’t shake her sign and she wasn’t screaming. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. But she was there, I reminded myself, and I wondered if she felt any shame at what she was doing. I gave her what I hoped was a look of disgust and returned to my task, lifting the flag and walking to stand in front of Slim.
Mack backed his bike next to Slim’s and took his own flag from the back, standing next to me as the striped fabric snapped in the wind around us.
“I’m assuming Buster is watching Merry,” I said, making my voice a near shout to be heard over the motorcycle motors and the protesters.
He nodded. “This is no place for a baby.”
I agreed. I wondered how much longer they would be content juggling a newborn, a thriving business, and their Christian biker gang.
“Did you just poke me?” Kate’s shriek rose above the noise.
I turned to see a protestor with a bad perm and dark roots that made her look like a blond skunk holding a sign inches from Kate. Before I could remind Kate that the Road Riders for Jesus were a nonviolent Christian biker gang, the woman jabbed Kate so hard she stumbled back and fell into Stray Dog’s lap.
So much for a nice ride in the country, I thought as chaos erupted around me.
Chapter 15
“What on earth happened to you two?” Richard asked as Kate and I walked in the door to my apartment, his head peeking over the open divide between my living room and kitchen.
I sniffed the air and almost coughed as I inhaled the heavy scent of cinnamon. “Are you baking?”
He walked out holding a wooden spoon. “No, I’m mulling spices.” He waved the spoon in the direction of Kate’s face and the faintly purple mark on her left cheekbone. “Should I get a steak for that bruise?” He glanced at my filthy T-shirt. “And some Spray-and-Wash for that shirt?”
“Do I have steaks?” I asked, wondering if he’d taken it upon himself to st
ock my kitchen like he used to do back when I was single.
He gave a small snort as he shook his head. “Of course not. Your kitchen is a wasteland. It took all my creativity to pull together the mulling spices.”
“I’m fine,” Kate said, heading for the couch and shrugging off her bomber jacket. “You should see the other chick.”
Richard raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I take it the ride didn’t go well?”
“The ride was great,” Kate said. “We just had a bit of a disagreement with the people protesting the funeral.”
Richard looked bewildered, so I brought him up to speed on the funeral and the protesters and the melee that the police broke up and Slim and Stray Dog had to drag Kate out of.
“It sounds like you were on the side of right,” Richard said, appraising Kate with a look of admiration. “Well done, darling.” He turned his eyes to me. “And where were you while Kate was channeling her inner lady wrestler?”
“Annabelle tried to help, but she got tangled up in the bikes,” Kate said.
That was a gracious way of saying I’d tripped and fallen flat on my face in the dirt. Mack had finally picked me up, rescuing me from being trampled to death by everyone running to the fight. By the time I’d gotten my bearings and recovered from being stepped on by more than one heavyset biker, the brawl had been over.
Richard patted my arm then wiped his hand on the Santa Claus apron tied around his neck. “Better luck next time.”
As far as I was concerned, there wouldn’t be a next time. As good as it made me feel to act as a human shield for the soldier’s funeral, I’d come to one definite conclusion. Harleys were not for me. I could understand why people loved them, and I didn’t deny the rush I’d gotten from the roar of the motor coursing through my body, but the bad-ass bikes made me feel a little too invincible. Another few rides on a cruiser, and I was afraid I’d be putting my difficult brides in headlocks.
I breathed in again as I slipped off Reese’s leather jacket. “Do I smell curry?”
Richard spun on his heels and returned to the kitchen. “Like I said, I had to improvise. It did give me a brilliant theme for our holiday party though.”
I wiped the last traces of dirt from my boyfriend’s jacket as I hung it back on the coat rack and exchanged a glance with Kate. Every holiday season Richard decked out his offices in his own totally unique spin on a theme that over the years had ranged from Bolshevik glamour to Tibetan chic.
“Didn’t we agree the theme was leftover stuff from past brides?” I asked.
“That doesn’t have much of a ring to it,” Richard called after he pressed the automatic ice maker, and I heard the freezer spit out a few cubes. “But Taj Ma-Holidays does, doesn’t it?”
Taj Ma-Holidays? Kate mouthed to me.
Richard’s head appeared over the dividing counter. “As in Taj Mahal. Get it?”
Oh, I got it.
“We can serve Curry Kwanza cheese puffs, Merry Mango lassies, and Dreidel Dreidel Dahl.” Richard clapped his hand. “I’ve planned out a menu that covers every winter holiday.”
Kate sighed. “What’s wrong with crantinis and cutout cookies?”
Richard sucked in air. “I guess nothing if you want to be predictable.”
“Do you remember what happened to your creative holiday decor last year?” I asked, flopping down in the chair across from Kate.
“You mean my Christmas in the Casbah, an Arabic interpretation of the holidays?” Richard marched out and handed Kate an ice pack wrapped in a red-striped dish towel. “It would have been worthy of Architectural Digest if Jim’s insane flying squirrel hadn’t destroyed it.”
“Your catering captain brought Rocky to the office again?” Kate sat forward as she touched the ice to her bruise. “I don’t think I heard this.”
“Really?” I muttered. “He complained about it for weeks. At least it felt like weeks.”
Richard shot me a look. “That flying rodent scattered the sand I’d put around the Christmas tree so it would look like it was sitting in the desert. The sand dunes were ruined. Then he ran up the tree and clung to the very top, bending it over until it almost touched the floor before he jumped off. Of course the tree snapped back, and my camel tree topper flew across the room and crashed into the bay window. Not to mention the tiny Bedouin ornaments that fell all over the floor.” Richard stifled a small sob. “It was awful.”
“Which is why we should keep things simple,” I said. “The party is in two days, and we have the Douglas wedding on Saturday. I, for one, would not like to add anything else to my plate. Let’s do a grab bag gift exchange, drink some bubbly, and reminisce about our craziest brides of the year.”
Kate raised a hand. “I second that. We also have this baby situation we promised Buster and Mack we’d help them with. There’s no time to build a Taj Mahal out of sugar cubes or whatever you might be envisioning.”
Richard opened his mouth to protest, then tilted his head. “I never thought of a sugar cube Taj Mahal. I wonder—”
“No!” Kate and I said in unison.
Richard jumped. “Fine. We’ll do your repurposing theme and serve gingerbread and champagne with cranberries for garnish.” He pretended to be snoring then jerked awake. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I fall asleep out of boredom?” He turned and stomped back to the kitchen.
“I think we can cross ‘tracking down the missing baby mama’ off our list,” I said, making a point of ignoring Richard slamming around in the kitchen.
“You’re giving up so soon?” Kate asked. “It’s only been a few days.”
I looked down at my dirt-smeared shirt. “And we’ve gotten nowhere. No potential moms. No witnesses. No nothing. I’m starting to think whoever left baby Merry did it randomly and just got lucky Buster and Mack found her.”
Kate didn’t look convinced. “Maybe, but I still think a biker church in a run-down strip mall is an odd place to dump a baby.”
“I also get the feeling that Mack doesn’t want us to find the mom,” I said. “He seemed practically pleased when I told him we’d had no luck so far.”
“They do seem pretty attached to the baby,” Kate said. “The longer she stays with them, the worse it’ll get.”
I held up both palms. “I’m not going to be the one who tries to take her from them.”
Kate switched her ice pack from one hand to the other. “If we don’t find the mother, they’re going to have to notify social services. You can’t just keep a baby like that.”
Especially since my boyfriend was a cop and knew the entire situation. Even knowing how broken the system was, Reese wouldn’t be able to look the other way for much longer. I guess I understood, even though it was hard to imagine two people taking to the role of instant parent better than Buster and Mack. I hated the thought of how broken-hearted they’d be.
“I guess we’re going to have to wish for a Christmas miracle,” I said.
Kate winked at me. “Here’s Taj-Ma-hoping.”
“I heard that,” Richard yelled.
Chapter 16
“So explain this grab bag gift exchange thing to me again,” Kate said the next morning as we strolled through Georgetown.
Wreaths made of fake greenery with a shiny-gold bow tied at the bottom topped each of the streetlights dotting the sidewalk down M Street, and the steady ringing of a bell told me a Salvation Army bucket was nearby. The sidewalks were crowded with shoppers, so I held my to-go peppermint mocha close to keep it from getting knocked out of my hand.
I stepped around a sandwich board sign advertising 30 percent off, hearing the holiday Muzak spilling out of the designer handbag store, and giving Kate a tug as she slowed to look at the pricey purses. “We each buy a present under twenty dollars and wrap it up, then at the party we sit in a circle, and the first person picks a present and opens it.”
“Sounds simple enough so far.”
I pulled the collar of my coat tighter around my neck, regretting not wearing a scarf
to block the wind. “The next person can either ‘steal’ that present or open a new one.”
Kate fell behind me to avoid a harried-looking mother pushing a double-wide stroller. “What happens to the person whose gift was stolen?”
“They open a new one.”
Kate fell back in beside me. “Why do I have a feeling this is going to end in someone getting their knickers in a fist?”
“You mean knickers in a twist?” I asked as Kate mouthed the phrase to herself then shrugged. She made a good point. This had the potential for drama.
“Every time I’ve done it at a party, it’s been fun,” I said, taking a sip of my now-lukewarm peppermint mocha.
“Were Richard and Fern at any of those parties?”
I slowed as we passed Starbucks and breathed in the rich scent of coffee. “Well, no, but even without the gift exchange, there’s a good chance one of them will flounce off in a huff about something.”
Kate raised a finger. “Point taken. So we have to find something under twenty dollars that anyone at the party might like?”
“That’s the idea.” I looked down the brown paving stone sidewalk at the red-brick and cream-colored townhouses pressed up against each other in a row, their colorful awnings hanging over glass fronts. Some of the buildings rose two stories and some three, giving the rooftops an uneven, jagged look. I wondered if any of the stores contained a gift that would appeal to both Richard and Buster or Fern and Mack.
I ducked into The Paper Source and pulled Kate with me. “Let’s look in here.”
We pushed through the tall doors and past the rows of chic wrapping paper hanging on wooden rods. Tables were piled high with books, crafting kits, and oversized mugs, and it smelled of paper and ink.
Kate picked up an adult coloring book featuring sea creatures on the cover. “Does Reese like dolphins?”
“Very funny,” I said, taking a final drink of my coffee and tasting the bitter dregs from the bottom of the cup. I’d almost forgotten my boyfriend would be at the party and that he’d mentioned it to his older brother, Daniel, a former cop we’d gotten to know during a few past weddings that had taken a turn for the deadly. I decided not to mention that to Kate since she’d been known to flirt shamelessly with Daniel and had even once planted a serious kiss on him. Knowing he might be at the party would distract her from the task at hand.
