For Whom the Bluebell Tolls (20 page)

“Or find Paige.”

“Or find Paige,” Liv repeated. “But think about having your promising career struck down, all of a sudden like that. Losing everything you ever wanted to do.”

“That’s not as bad as having your child taken,” Amber Lee said, “and then being accused of staging the kidnapping to cover up some kind of abuse.”

“And if Evan Logan were seen in town, I’d say he’d have a clear motive to kill Gary.” I hesitated. After all of the group’s hard work, I hated to burst their bubbles. “But not necessarily stop the show. All of those people on your list, the ones Gary exposed, might have wanted him dead. But what about the threats afterward?”

“A smoke screen?” Liv said, then swallowed.

“Why go to so much trouble just to spread suspicion around?” I said. “It’s a lot of risk. He or she could have been caught delivering the threat or messing with the dresses. If you’ve gotten away with murder, why increase the chance of your getting caught?” I shook my head. “No, I think the killer must really want to get the show canceled—and unfortunately for Brad, that’s the very thing that points to him.”

“
If
the killer is the same person that’s sending these warnings,” Liv said.

I nodded. Were the notes and the vandalism of the dresses out of character for Brad? No, he wouldn’t have killed anybody, I was sure of that. But were the subsequent notes that much different from the shenanigans he was involved in as a youth? “I suppose the notes could have been written by some kind of sick copycat. But we have no evidence of any of those people on those tapes being in town.”

“But if they were, Gary would have recognized them. Which could be why he’s dead,” Liv said hopefully.

I conceded that one to her. “Can we get copies of images of these people to show to Bixby, you think?”

“I’ve got them,” Liv said, brightening. “I took pictures of the screen with my cell phone.”

“Let’s send them to him. We still have his business card?”

Liv pulled his rumpled business card out of the drawer and began composing a text, reading aloud as she typed.

“Chief Bixby: This image and the ones following are all people who might have had a motive to kill Gary. During his early career as a news reporter he exposed or accused them of various crimes. Some served time. Thought you might like to know in case any of these people were seen in Ramble.”

“Sounds good,” I said, as Liv’s fingers flew across her phone.

“Full sentences. No chat speak or crazy abbreviations.”

“Grandma Mae would be proud,” I said.

“More importantly, Bixby will be able to understand it,” she said. “Sincerely, Liv and Audrey.” She hit send.

“You signed it Liv and Audrey?” I said.

“He respects you more. And I can’t exactly sign it as the Rose in Bloom Detective Agency, can I?”

“You got me there. Now they’re Bixby’s problem, I guess.”

“But you don’t think it’s likely that any of these people could be the killer.”

I watched over Liv’s shoulder as she sent the rest of the images to Bixby.

“I’ve met all the cast and crew and most of the fans that came from out of town. None of those people look familiar.”

Liv’s phone beeped. “Oh, I got a message back.”

“What did he say?” Amber Lee asked.

Liv rolled her eyes and showed around her phone. “Thx.”

“There’s a man of few words,” Shelby said.

“Not even a smiley face,” Amber Lee added.

“You know,” I said, “Gary thought he had a way back into the business. He must have been working on a story. Something new. Do you think that’s in those data files?”

“Only one way to find out.” Liv turned back to the computer screen.

I took a seat in the back row of the church next to where Shirley sat folding bulletins for Sunday.

“I thought they’d be done with the rehearsal by now,” I whispered. I’d been sent to make sure the church was all clear before we headed over with the flowers. I texted Liv, “Not yet.”

On the platform, Pastor Seymour stood flanked by the wedding party. He’d barely uttered three words before Gigi stopped him. She repositioned the wedding party closer together, then walked back to the cameraman.

“Slow process,” Shirley said. “They just finished up the groom’s vows. Suzy’s up next.”

“Can we hurry this up?” Suzy whined. “It’s hot in here.” She was dressed in shorts and a low-scooped tank top with the word “BRIDE” printed in glitter across her bosom. Sweat glistened on her exposed skin. Which was considerable. If she was this warm in the evening, when a cooler breeze was starting to trickle in the open windows, she was in for a surprise when she stood there tomorrow in the heat of the day wearing a full-length gown. Possibly that vintage one with the long bell sleeves.

I stifled an amused snort.

Shirley hit me in the thigh. I looked up to see her lip quiver, then she disguised a laugh with a cough.

I studied a small pull in the knee of my jeans while I regained my composure.

As I looked up, Suzy plucked a small, folded paper out of her bra, unfolded it, and began to read her personalized vows.

“Are you going to read them or memorize them?” Gigi asked.

“Read them,” Suzy said. “I don’t want to forget anything.”

“Fine,” Gigi said. “But let’s get them printed on a card and not a trashy piece of paper. And don’t stick it in your cleavage.”

“We could always use the more traditional vows,” Pastor Seymour suggested. “My Martha and I used the traditional vows, and we had a most lovely wedding.”

“Is Martha your wife?” Suzy asked. “Where is she?” Suzy peered around the church.

“Gone, child. She went over Jordan with Emmanuel, the lover of her soul,” Pastor Seymour said.

“Well, that explains it. If you don’t mind my saying so, Reverend, maybe if you’d have told her how you felt, in your own words, she’d be with you instead of with this Emmanuel dude.”

I should not have looked at Shirley. The moment I did, we both lost it. I could barely breathe, with the combined efforts of laughing and trying not to laugh. I swiped at my nose, and when I looked up through the tears, Suzy was staring at us, hands on her hips.

“What’s so funny?”

Suzy’s groom leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

“Dead? Well, why didn’t he just say so?”

He whispered in her ear again, and she turned bright red. Suzy turned to Pastor Seymour. “I’m sorry, Reverend. For both your loss and my misunderstanding.”

Pastor Seymour patted her arm. “That’s all right, my dear.”

Shirley looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

Suzy went on with her vows. “I promise, from this day forth, to be your best fan, to cheer you on when the road gets long, to help you bear the burden when life gets tough. I want to be the first thing you see in the morning when you get up, the last thing you see at night, and never give you cause to regret that decision. You are the love of my life, and more . . . Ten thousand lives would not be worth living if I didn’t have you by my side. I promise to love you with everything I am and have.”

Stunned silence reigned in the church.

“Did you write that?” Gigi asked.

Suzy nodded.

“All by yourself?”

“Yes. Is it all right?”

“It’s . . . lovely.”

Shirley turned to me, and I shrugged. There was more to Suzy than most people gave her credit for.

“Are we done, then?” Suzy asked.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Gigi said.

“Well then . . .” Suzy leaned into her groom (Melvin? Micah?) for a hug, then turned to her bridesmaids. “Let’s party!”

I finished my text to Liv, letting her know the rehearsal was over so our crew, ready and waiting at the flower shop, could deploy.

Brad hopped into the pew in front of Shirley and me. “Just who I wanted to see.”

“I was just leaving.” Shirley gave me a wink.

“No, wait,” Brad said. “Actually, I need to talk with both of you. We’ve had a few emergencies come up, and I need a couple of favors.” Brad put his hands together in a gesture that resembled prayer. He wore his most beatific expression.

Shirley slapped him on the arm. “What do you need?”

“First,” he said to Shirley, “we need to fill the church for tomorrow. With the distance from the bride’s hometown—and the murder—our attendance is way down. And Gigi likes a full church. We’re low on the reception, too. So could you call around town? Another fifty or sixty people should do it.”

“Just invite people? Anybody off the street?”

“Well, make sure they’re not homeless or would cause trouble or anything. You know, good old typical Ramble folks.”

“Okay, I’m there.” Shirley tapped my arm. “You want to come? How many?”

“Liv would love it. Liv and Eric. Amber Lee . . .”

“Who else?” Shirley said. “You’re doing me a favor, remember.”

“I guess I could ask the whole crew. Shelby, Darnell, Melanie, Opie. Oh, and Jenny—and maybe her mom.”

“Is she back on the wagon?”

“Yes, very much so. She should be fine. And Nick.” I could see Brad’s jaw tighten—or was that my imagination? “Oh, and there are a couple of other young men from the college that help us.”

“Oh, that’s thirteen right there. You made my job a lot easier.”

“You know, you might want to talk to Bixby next. I’m sure he’d want to be there with a contingent from the police.”

“Good idea,” she said. “And with them and their wives, and probably the mayor and Rita . . . I should go hit the phones.”

“Thanks, Shirley.” Brad kissed her on the cheek. “You’re an angel.”

“Don’t bet on that.”

Brad watched as Shirley walked away.

I cleared my throat. “And you wanted something from me, too?”

“Yeah, and this is going to be tougher.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the bachelorette party.”

“What about the bachelorette party?”

“Well, ever since our problems with Jackie, a member of our staff has gone along to make sure the bride stays out of trouble. Gigi used to do it. Joked she was taking one for the team.”

I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going. “Please tell me you’re not about to ask what I think you’re going to ask.”

“Gigi’s not up to it. After all, her husband was just murdered. And as you may have noticed, we’re low on female staffers. Gigi’s planners are busy with last-minute preparations. I can’t exactly send Nevena. And I couldn’t trust Gwyneth to keep them in line. And you’re one of the few women in town Suzy’s met. Besides, you know where the restaurants and bars are and all. You could show them around town.”

“I have flowers to do. This church isn’t going to decorate itself. And you know how I feel about the whole bar scene.”

“Yeah, but it’s Ramble, so it’s not like they’re hitting strip joints or some sleazy nightclub. Just dinner and a few drinks. How bad could it be? But, Audrey, this would really help me out.” He resumed his prayerful expression. “Please?”

“What are we doing?” Liv slid in next to me.

“Brad is trying to convince me to play den mother to Suzy and her bridesmaids. Bachelorette party. I was telling him that we had flowers to do.”

“They can spare us. After all, we’re basically doing the same setup that we did for the mayor’s daughter. Amber Lee can handle it.”

“I don’t know . . .
us
?”

“I could go, too, right?” Liv looked at Brad, wearing the same fake prayer expression. “I’d be a good den mother. And Eric has been telling me I need to get out more.”

“I think he meant with him,” I told Liv. “You just want to go along to snoop.”

“I don’t have a problem with Liv going,” Brad said.

“Are you ready?” Suzy had sneaked up behind Brad and directed the question to me.

I sent a glare in Brad’s direction. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

He winked at me, then kissed Suzy on the cheek. “Have a good time—but not too good. Back at one at the latest, mind you. Even the best makeup can do only so much against those black circles.”

“Yes,
Dad
.” She turned to me. “Let’s boogie.”

I gathered my purse, and Liv stood up, too. Suzy gasped at Liv’s pregnant belly.

“Don’t worry,” Liv said. “It’s not contagious.” With a broad smile, she turned to the rest of the group. “Who’s up for Mexican?”

Suzy’s bridesmaids seemed excited over the prospect, which was good, because Olé was one of three restaurants in Ramble that had a liquor license—one of them being the Ashbury, which was closed for the filming. And the groom (Mitchell?) and his party were sure to head out to the sports bar. And leaving Ramble would make it difficult to get back before curfew.

We walked out of the church to the chants of Tacky Jackie and her crew. “Stop the madness. Stop the wedding.” I could understand Jackie being upset with how she was portrayed on TV, but I didn’t quite understand why she’d want to cancel Suzy’s wedding. Could she be so bitter that she didn’t want anyone to be happy? And could she go as far as killing Gary?

As Liv loaded a few of the bridesmaids into one of the black Range Rovers and took charge of the keys, Suzy and one of her bridesmaids, followed by Marco, the cameraman, climbed into our CR-V.

“Oh, it smells like flowers in here,” Suzy said.

“I’m allergic,” the bridesmaid said. “I hope it’s not far.”

“A few blocks.” I turned back to Marco. “I thought it was girls-only tonight.”

“Pretend I’m not here. I just have to go along to film in case anything interesting happens.”

As I pulled away from the curb, I glanced back in the rearview mirror and spotted Jackie and her entourage climb into a beat-up blue van.

“Uh-oh,” I said.

“What?” Suzy said.

I pointed to the car behind us. “Jackie.”

Suzy rubbed her hands together. “Oh, this ought to be good.”

Marco turned toward the window with a small handheld camera and started shooting.

“Good? She’s following us,” I said.

“How good is any party without crashers?” she said.

“You do remember that there’s a murderer still in town. And that Jackie hated what Gary did to her wedding. She would have had motive to kill him. Not the kind of person I’d want to party with.”

Suzy reached into a large handbag and pulled out a crumpled mesh veil and hairpins. “Jackie
claims
she hated what they did to her wedding. Personally, I think she just wants more attention. Duh. Why else would she be here?” She pulled down the mirror to check if her party veil was straight.

“And what if she wants to mess up your wedding?” I said. “To attract more attention to herself.”

“I don’t think I’d like that,” she said, then smiled broadly. “But she can’t do that without drawing attention to me, can she?” Suzy and her bridesmaid high-fived carefully and in slow motion. Protecting their nails.

I shook my head. “And here I thought the show was about making wedding dreams come true.”

Suzy touched my arm. “You think that’s bad, don’t you? Understand that I do love Michael, and we would have gotten married anyway. Heaven knows my dad’s been trying to talk me out of the show for months now. But the chance to be on television. That fifteen minutes of fame? It’s a pretty big draw.”

“You play dumb, don’t you?”

Suzy shrugged. “I have my moments. But if it’s more entertaining for the camera, why not?”

By this time we were parked in front of the Mexican restaurant and Liv was tapping on the car window.

The hostess saw our entourage and the camera and clutched her stack of menus closer to her chest. “I don’t know that I can seat you all together, but . . . I can ask the manager about the private room. It’s not being used tonight.”

She scurried off. The girls chatted quietly among themselves, while Suzy and Jackie seemed like old friends. And then it dawned on me. They weren’t enemies. They were kindred spirits, each using the show, and now each other, to garner just a little more attention. But what if Gary had stood in their way? Or what if killing Gary was a way to get even more attention?

I turned to Liv. “This was a bad idea. On every level.”

“Why? I think this gives us a perfect opportunity to spend more time with more possible suspects.”

“Exactly. Possibly dangerous suspects. Does Eric know you’re here?”

“I texted him.”

“And he’s okay with that?”

“Sure.”

But she didn’t look me in the eye when she said it. “Liv?”

“Okay, I told him I was out having tacos with you . . . which is true.”

The waitress and her manager returned and escorted us back, loudly informing us that there would be a 30 percent gratuity added for use of the private room.

Suzy waved him off. “Sure. No sweat.”

The manager leaned toward me. “The cameraman. Is he filming? Is the restaurant going to be on television?”

I shrugged. “We’re supposed to pretend he’s not there.”

“If I’d known, I would have redecorated. Cake. There should be a cake. Let me see if I can get one.” He hustled off.