Do-or-Die Bridesmaid

by Julie Miller

  Conor nodded. “The rest of the damage happened separately from the struggle in Miss Wilson’s bedroom. Someone was looking for something—either she surprised the intruder who expected her to be gone, or the search happened after she was killed.”

  The deputy rolled his toothpick between his teeth and laughed. “And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?”

  “Yes.”

  Deputy Cobb tucked his notebook back inside his jacket without writing anything down. “I don’t know you, Wildman. You’re not a cop from around here, so I don’t have to take your word on anything.” He flicked his gaze down to Laura. “And you ain’t no kind of cop at all.”

  “I know what I saw,” Laura argued.

  Conor rubbed his hand up and down her spine through the jacket she wore, as if he could feel some of that backbone she was growing again. “Read your manual. Observations like that are basic police work.”

  Cobb didn’t seem too pleased with the reminder. “You said you were a US marshal when you lived in Arlington. You’re in witness protection, not homicide investigation.”

  “That was my old life. I’m an investigator with KCPD now.”

  “Still ain’t your case. I can book you for interfering with my investigation.”

  “And I can file charges against you for professional misconduct and witness intimidation.” Cobb chuckled, as if he liked, or at least respected, Conor’s refusal to back down. Conor didn’t seem to care about Cobb’s opinion, one way or the other. “Do you have anything further to ask Miss Karr?”

  “I’m done for now.” The deputy straightened the brim of his hat. “But don’t you go leaving town. I might call you in for more questions. Both of you.” He took a couple of steps toward the door before glancing back. “You sure you didn’t touch or remove anything from that apartment?”

  The defensive no on Laura’s lips was drowned out by a man’s frantic voice booming through the hallway.

  “That’s Chloe’s place. What happened? Is that...?” She recognized the despair, even if she couldn’t immediately identify the speaker. “Oh, my God. Chloe!”

  Deputy Cobb barked a curse word. “What now?” He pushed past the other deputy into the hallway before giving the younger officer a command. “Get these people out of here.” Laura recognized the dark ponytail and sharply defined cheekbones of Chloe’s latest boyfriend. Cobb palmed him in the middle of the chest and stopped him in his tracks as he tried to duck beneath the crime scene tape into Chloe’s apartment. “Hold up a minute there. Who are you?”

  “Vinnie Orlando. I need to see Chloe.”

  “You the boyfriend?” Cobb asked.

  Vinnie looked dazed as he nodded to the barrel-chested deputy and took note of Laura, Conor and the retreating lookie-loos being ushered into their respective apartments. He spun back to the closing elevator doors where two of Vinnie’s buddies waited with their hands stuck inside the pockets of their winter coats. A fourth man with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a tailored wool dress coat and expensive leather gloves, strode up behind Vinnie. Vinnie took a few steps toward the older man before swinging back to face the deputy. “Yeah, I... The body that guy was pushing onto the elevator—was that her? Is Chloe really...?” His face flushed the color of dark bricks as he tried to get a grip on his emotions. “She was supposed to wait... We were gonna meet...” The older man clasped his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “Where is he taking her? Can I see her?”

  Laura stepped forward, feeling his grief twisting in her own gut. She reached for Vinnie’s gloved hand and squeezed it between both of hers. “I don’t know if you remember me, Vinnie. But we’ve met. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know Chloe really cared about you. But you don’t want to see her like this. Just think about how beautiful she was—how much she loved to laugh and smile.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded, squeezing her hand before releasing her. “Loni, right?”

  She stepped back to Conor’s side. Although her heart went out to his grief, her bad vibe about the self-centered twentysomething hadn’t changed. “Laura. I was Chloe’s friend.”

  He shrugged off the older man’s comfort and swiped his hand over his cheeks and jaw, probably staving off the urge to burst into tears. “Sure. I remember you. You were at that bar with Chloe and me that one night.”

  “I never went bar-hopping with you two. We met here in Chloe’s apartment. I was helping her paint her bedroom. You stopped by and told her to clean up for an impromptu road trip. You’d just gotten a convertible.”

  Vinnie frowned, clearly not remembering the introduction. “Did she come with me?”

  “Oh, yes. She had lots of great things to say about that day. I stayed behind and finished the paint job.”

  “Yeah, that was a sweet car.” Laura didn’t take offense at being too insignificant for him to remember. Not tonight. Not with losing the woman he loved—or at least cared about. That is, she didn’t take offense until he asked the next question. “You saw her tonight? Was Chloe wearing a ring? Did the guy who broke into her apartment steal the ring I gave her? It was my mother’s.”

  Deputy Cobb pulled out his notepad again. “A ring?”

  “You’re worried about a theft? Chloe’s dead. You understand that, right?” Not her finest moment of compassion, but there seemed to be a whole lot of not caring about what had happened to her friend going around.

  The older man reached inside the front of his coat. “It’s an engagement ring. Vincent and Miss Wilson were close.”

  Laura frowned. “She told me you were getting the rings in Las Vegas.”

  Vinnie sputtered, as if surprised to be contradicted. “She told you we were getting married?”

  “She called me earlier this evening. Said getting married was a guarantee. But she never mentioned you already giving her a ring.”

  “Oh.” That seemed to be news to him. Was Vinnie surprised that Chloe had shared the news of their elopement, or surprised to be getting married, period? “Yeah. Right.”

  The older man pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card. “Deputy, we need to find that ring. May we go inside and look for it?”

  Laura replayed that last weird conversation she’d had with Chloe in her head, then fast-forwarded to entering the apartment less than two hours ago. Had Chloe been wearing an engagement ring? Laura hadn’t looked. She hadn’t seen anything beyond the blood and Chloe’s dim, sightless eyes.

  “It’s a family heirloom,” the older man explained, his tone coolly articulate in contrast to Vinnie’s manic roller coaster of emotions. “A priceless family heirloom Mr. Orlando would like to get back.”

  “And you are?” Cobb asked.

  “Marvin Boltz.” He handed his card to the deputy. “I’m Mr. Orlando’s attorney.”

  “You brought your attorney with you to see if your girlfriend was okay?”

  Vinnie shook his head, taking a step toward the ransacked apartment before Cobb blocked his path. “No. Marv was already with me. He had a legal thing I had to sign—”

  The man with the salt-and-pepper hair pulled Vinnie back to his side. “Don’t say another word, Vincent.”

  “He damn well better keep talkin’.” At last, T. J. Cobb seemed to be asking the right questions to the right person. “Were you here earlier? Did you tear up her apartment looking for that ring?”

  Vinnie glanced at his attorney before answering. “I want to help. It’s Chloe we’re talking about. No. I didn’t look for the ring.”

  Was that a lie? A version of the truth? Could he have torn up the apartment looking for something else? Like insurance? Or was there something special about that ring, like it was stolen property, or borrowed from his mother without consent, and he needed to get it back? Was that reason enough to commit murder?

  She’d almost forgotten Conor hadn’t left when his shadow loomed up beside her. He pushed
Vinnie for more details. “When was the last time you saw Miss Wilson? The last time you talked to her?”

  “Why are you still here, Detective?” Cobb snarled. “This is my investigation.” He turned back to Vinnie. “But I’d be interested in your answers.”

  Marvin Boltz shook his head and turned away from the conversation while Vinnie answered. “Yesterday evening. I was here with her all yesterday afternoon. We were, you know, intimate. She was into me. She was hot.”

  That explained why Chloe hadn’t come to the wedding. Maybe being so into Vinnie even explained why she hadn’t answered any of Laura’s calls or texts.

  “So, you two shared some afternoon delight, and then you left,” Cobb clarified.

  “Yeah. I had to take care of some things. Business. Isn’t that right, Marvin?”

  The attorney shrugged, looking surprised to hear his client consult him. “That’s right.”

  Laura couldn’t help but wonder what kind of business Vinnie was in, and why he’d be conducting it late on a Saturday afternoon. Since he hadn’t deigned to have any kind of get-acquainted conversation with her when they’d met, she asked, “Are you a lawyer, too?”

  Vinnie laughed. “And stay in school that long? Hell no, Marvin’s an old family friend. I’m...” Now his lawyer was glaring. “I’m an artist, like Chloe was.”

  A very successful one, judging by the designer cut of his leather coat, the well-tailored attorney and the beefy entourage who watched from the elevator doors. “You’re a sculptor?”

  “Painter,” he answered, flicking his ponytail from the collar of his jacket. “I painted Chloe a few times.”

  The deputy held up his hand, dismissing what he probably considered to be chitchat. “How was she when you left? Were you planning on seeing her again?”

  “She was verrrry satisfied when I left.” He laughed at his own joke, then shrugged when he realized nobody else in the hallway was laughing. “I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning. This morning, I guess. We’re going to Vegas to get married. Were going. Hell. She’s really gone?”

  The stairwell door swung open behind Laura, and Isaac Royal tottered out. “You know she is, you son of a bitch!”

  Laura startled at Isaac’s sudden entrance, and her fingers accidentally brushed against Conor’s down at her side. For the briefest of moments, he laced his fingers through hers and clasped her hand. But instead of offering comfort, he was nudging her out of harm’s way as Isaac charged at Vinnie.

  His slurred speech and stumbling balance didn’t stop him from barreling into the larger, more muscular man. “What did you do to my Chloe?”

  Vinnie’s two buddies rushed down the hallway, grabbing Isaac by the arms after the first shove. Vinnie pushed back, knocking Isaac’s glasses to the floor. “Out of my face, loser,” he taunted.

  “You son of a bitch. I loved her!”

  “She was mine.”

  Isaac’s hand fisted as if he wanted to throw a punch, but one of the bruisers caught him by the wrist and twisted it up behind his back as he rammed him into the wall. Conor pushed Vinnie against the opposite wall, holding him in place while Deputy Cobb moved between the brawling men.

  The deputy leaned closer to Isaac’s ear. “What’s your name, son?”

  “Isaac Royal,” he spat. Laura realized she wasn’t the only one still wearing wedding garb. Only hers was in better condition than the stained shirt cuff and torn sleeve of Isaac’s tuxedo.

  She also realized that the fist pinned in the middle of Isaac’s back was bruised and swollen around several small, fresh cuts. “Isaac, are you okay?”

  “Chloe’s dead,” he yelled, before his voice hushed with a quiet sob. “How can I be okay?”

  “Let him go, Rico.” At a nod from Marvin Boltz, the two men who seemed to be more bodyguards than buddies released Isaac. Conor let go of Vinnie and backed away while Isaac rubbed at his twisted arm, whimpering with unabashed grief or pain.

  Marvin took hold of his client’s arm and pulled him aside, warning his buddies to get Vinnie on the elevator while he wrapped things up. “If there’s nothing else, Mr. Cobb?”

  “Not right now. I’ve got your contact information.”

  With those men dismissed, Cobb turned his attention to Isaac. “You safe to be driving, son?”

  Isaac nodded. “I took a cab.”

  “Good. Take one home and sleep it off.” Then the deputy turned away and ducked beneath the crime scene tape.

  Conor stopped Cobb before he got beyond the doorway. “You’re not going to interview Royal?”

  “Not in the state he’s in. Unreliable witness.” He tipped the brim of his hat to Laura, dismissing them, too. “You folks better get on home.”

  Laura opened her mouth to protest the deputy’s mercurial investigative skills, but Conor shook his head, nodding toward the empty room across the hall. Good. This might not be his case, or even his jurisdiction, but Conor wasn’t going to let her down. She needed answers, and whether he was doing his job, or he was being a good friend, he was going to help her find out what had happened to Chloe. Nodding her understanding, Laura scooped up Isaac’s glasses and linked her arm through his, leading the distraught man into the empty apartment.

  Conor followed them inside and pulled the door to. Isaac leaned back against the wall, tears dripping from his jaw onto the lapel of his tux before putting on the glasses Laura handed him.

  She pulled out the tissue her mother had insisted she tuck inside the bodice of her dress before the wedding and handed it to Isaac. “I’m so sorry.” She would have stepped in to give him a hug, but his tux smelled of smoke and alcohol, and she didn’t think he was the hugging type, anyway. “I know your time with Chloe wasn’t all picture-perfect, but I also know you loved her. And I know you want to find out what happened to her.”

  “What happened?” Isaac grumbled a derisive word under his breath. “It’s Pretty Boy Vinnie out there who’s responsible. He came into her life and ruined everything.”

  “Maybe.” Conor’s tone was surprisingly conversational, considering the gun and badge and strictly-business attitude he wore. “Where were you tonight?”

  “At my friend’s wedding. Just like you.”

  “Not the whole time. You left early.”

  Isaac shoved off the wall and headed for the door. “Get the hell away from me.”

  Laura caught him by the elbow, silently asking him to stay. “Isaac, please. You said that you and Chloe had a fight. When was that?”

  “This afternoon... Yesterday afternoon, I guess.”

  She slid her hand a little farther down his sleeve and gently touched his wrist. “What happened to your hand?”

  “I went to a bar after I left the reception. I tried to call Chloe, but she wouldn’t answer. I was a little too angry. A little too drunk. I punched the mirror in the bathroom there.” He held up his swollen, discolored hand, eyeing the cut that was still oozing on his middle finger. Then he quickly fisted the hand and dropped it to his side. “Wait. You think I did this?”

  “She dumped you. And clearly you have a temper.” Laura hesitated. “Her death was...violent.”

  “Oh, this is rich. I’m the only one mourning for her.”

  “That’s not true.” Laura tried to calm him down, but alcohol and anger kept him from listening.

  “You think Orlando out there is grieving? He’s probably just mad that her dying screwed up his weekend plans.”

  “What’s the name of the bar where you were drinking?” Conor asked. “Can someone there verify when you arrived and when you left? Do they have a broken mirror to back up your story?”

  “You got a lot of nerve, accusing me of anything.” When Conor didn’t budge out of his path, Isaac directed his anger at Laura. “You and your boyfriend both.”

  “He’s not my...” Laura started.


  “I’m not her...” Conor echoed at the same time.

  “Whatever. I’ve never been angry enough with Chloe to hurt her like that.” His temper seemed to finally burn out and he leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor until he could bury his face in his hands. “She was fine the last time I saw her. She was so happy—but it didn’t have anything to do with me. She showed me some stupid white envelope—called it her insurance. She kissed it, left a big red lipstick mark on it—and said what was inside would make sure she got married this weekend. In case love wasn’t enough.”

  Conor looked over Isaac’s bowed head to Lisa. “I didn’t see any lipstick-marked envelope. And there was other mail on the kitchen counter.” He squatted down beside the bereaved man. “Did you see any kind of ring she was wearing?”

  Isaac shook his head. “All I was seeing was red. She had the gall to ask me to drive to the post office to mail that package for her before the wedding.”

  “She was still planning on going to Lisa and Joe’s wedding?” Laura asked. Afternoon delight with Vinnie might have ended a little sooner than the ponytailed hunk had indicated.

  “I guess.”

  What kept her from going to the church? What changed? Who had stopped her from getting to the ceremony and reception?

  “Who was she sending the envelope to?” Conor asked, pulling her from her speculation and moving the interrogation forward.

  Isaac simply shook his head.

  Laura knelt on the other side of Isaac and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Could there have been an insurance form in that envelope?” She hesitated, hating to think of the possible motive. “Like maybe someone took a policy out on her before he killed her? She said something about insurance to me, too.”