2 A Christmas Wedding To Die For (2 page)

She looked at Heath and saw he looked as shocked as she felt. The sound came from somewhere just a little further along, the area hidden by trees. She broke into a run only to find herself slipping on a patch of ice, nearly falling. Heath managed to grab her as she was going down. And the ringing continued.

Moving as fast as possible towards the sound Maxine hit the call button every time they lost the sound. Obviously it was Julia's phone but as they made their way through the trees Julia remained hidden from them. The sound, however, was clearly coming from the small stage.

Hearts pounding they made their way up to the small stage. Maxine gasped with Heath's quick intake of breath showing his surprise as well. Her legs wobbled like jelly as she took in the sight before her and bile rose in her throat, bitter and nasty.

Up on the stage Julia was clearly visible although the snow was starting to cover her. She was motionless, dressed in her beautiful white wedding dress and a long cape which fanned out behind her, pink bubbles escaping from her mouth and marring an otherwise picture perfect presentation.

Maxine dropped down beside her, checking her pulse. "Julia, Julia," she half-shouted,trying to get some response. There was nothing.

"Call 911," she said to Heath. "She's alive."

For how long was another question. Her pulse was weak and thready, her breathing almost non-existent.

"I can't get through. I've called Kevin." Heath hung up and dropped down beside her. He pinched Julia's nose.

"What are you going to do," Maxine said sharply.

"Mouth to mouth," he said looking at her in surprise.

"You can't," she said, shaking her head. "If I'm right she's been given cyanide and if you get cyanide ..."

She stopped as she saw his face blanch white. "We have to get her to a hospital fast," she said. "It's her only chance. Can you carry her?"

Heath was already picking her up in his arms as easily as if she were a rag doll. Maxine dialed Kevin.

"We need your 4X4."

"Is that necessary? I've already called 911."

"No time," she said sharply as she half ran, half walked to the four by four, Heath following behind. As Kevin gave her the keys she called VGH to let them know she was on the way. By the time they arrived minutes later doctors and nurses waited, whisking Juliana away on a stretcher while gathering information from Maxine, before telling them to go sit in the waiting room and wait.

Family began arriving shortly afterwards, their wedding day finery looking out of place in the hospital waiting room which looked more like an airport terminal. She shivered not wanting to think of a journey to where.

A nurse approached them dressed in snoopy scrubs with candy canes. "We have a family room you can wait in. A doctor will be out to talk to you as soon as possible."

Her mother said, "but she'll be all right?" The words a plea as much as anything, Maxine had a hard time picturing the confident and fun woman she had known before, as this same woman.

"The doctor will talk to you as soon as he can," the nurse said, her voice giving away nothing, her face a mask.

They turned towards Maxine now. "What happened? How was she when you brought her in?"

She answered as best she could, painfully aware nothing would make them happy until they knew Julianna was all right. If she was all right. It was a big if. She didn't even want to think about the alternative.

Rohan arrived next, along with the best man. He looked frantic.

"Where is she? Can I see her?" But there were no answers. They paced the waiting room, their energy too much to be contained in the family room.

Stopping before her he frowned as he asked, "Why? Why was she there and not at the wedding? Was she having second thoughts?" As if Maxine should know.

They waited. For minutes, keyed up with worry and excitement. Then they waited some more. And some more.

The nurses knew nothing. The clerks avoided eye contact. A volunteer offered coffee or orange juice. No one was interested.

When the doctor finally came out he wanted to talk to the parents alone.

Maxine, along with Heath, Rohan , his grooms and other assorted friends and family, which had been arriving in small groups, had to wait for further news. They huddled in small groups whispering, worriedly paced the waiting room, which seemed to shrink in size when confronted with this much grief.

The few friends and family of other patients in ER looked at them as if they were strangers from another world or time. They formed a weirdly glamorous and yet bedraggled group.

Perhaps they were. That land of happily ever after so many of us aspire too and which almost always starts off with beautiful weddings and promises to love each other until death do you part. Its' inhabitants don't often show up in the ER, waiting to find out what has become of the bride.

Detective Patrick Shannon, her friend and one time, boyfriend entered. He approached the triage desk and then took a look around the room, spotting Maxine.

He made a beeline to her and she gave him a small smile. She didn't have to look to know they'd become the center of attention, she could feel the energy shift in the room.

"Maxine, it's good to see you." Six feet two with blue eyes, black hair and a dimple when he smiled, he could be a charmer when he chose.

"And you too detective," she said with a small smile.

"It seems something happened to the bride today. You found her?" It was more a statement of fact than a question but she answered anyway.

"Heath was with me. She was – late for the wedding and Kevin was beside himself. I told him Heath and I could take a look around. I really didn't expect to find her. Certainly..." she broke off not wanting to finish the sentence.

"The doctors are talking to her family now."

Maxine nodded her head.

His voice turned gruff. "Does it ever occur to you not to volunteer when something needs checking? Chocolate making isn't usually considered a dangerous profession."

"I was doing a favor for my friend," she snapped, feeling a flash of anger. "I had no way of knowing that I'd find her," she stopped, at a loss for her words as she gestured with her hands, "like that."

Like it or not she knew what he meant. Earlier that spring someone had fallen dead at the first event she'd ever catered. Before the case had been solved two more people had died and another friend had come far too close for comfort. It was why she'd known so much about cyanide.

And while without her, the case might not have been solved as fast as it had been, she still felt a little ... fragile. And more than a little defensive.

"Are you investigating it as a ..."

"We're not sure what it is right now," he said curtly. "But we need to find out what happened. Obviously something went wrong if she was lying in the snow, fighting for her life, within walking distance to her own wedding."

"Who...I mean all the bridal party except the bride were there. And according to Kevin she took off at the last minute to meet someone and told everyone to meet her at the wedding."

"We're checking the guest list now," he assured her, "along with the whereabouts of everyone connected."

"But – she's going to live," Maxine said, her voice rising as she clenched her fists, fighting tears. "Surely you can ask her then. She'll be able to clear everything up, to..."

"If she recovers," he said grimly. "I thought it best to preserve the evidence just in case..." he didn't finish. "If you can think of anything - "

"I'll let you know," she assured him.

The door opened. Maxine, along with everyone else in the room, turned towards Julianna's parents and the doctor with a mixture of relief along with apprehension.

Her parents smiled. "She's alive. We're going to see her now and then they're taking her up to ICU."

There was an excited buzz of conversation. The wedding party surged forward towards the parents.

A doctor spoke. "Just her family right now. There'll be time enough for everyone else to visit when she's had a chance to recover. For now..."

Rohan stepped forward. "Could you tell her I love her, I.." his voice broke and Maxine's heart went out to him.

"Why don't you tell her yourself," her mother said gently. "After all if things had gone as planned you would be her husband now." She turned towards the doctor. "Surely in this case?"

"As long as it's only for a minute. She's in a very weakened state."

"Of course," Rohan said.

The doctors' eyes scanned the room landing on Maxine and Heath. "Is that the young lady and gentleman who found her?"

The parents nodded. "You should thank them," he said simply. "If they hadn't acted as quickly as they had, your daughter would not have recovered. You were lucky she was there."

"Of course," Julianna's parents said. "After we've seen our daughter."

But there was no need. Everyone in the room had heard. Maxine felt a flush of happiness. Julianna would be all right – and for once she wasn't blamed for the crime.

***

The shop was crowded with shoppers stopping for hot chocolate and a treat before heading out for yet more Christmas shopping. Located on Victoria's Wharf Street it was within walking distance of major shopping malls and stores. Inside managed to be warm and cozy while sidewalks remained treacherous even after being shoveled clear of snow and the harbor seemed strangely still as snow continued to fall covering the tops of boats and the docks.

Sam Dixon, owner of the art gallery next door stopped in. "So this time you're a hero," he said, biting into a chocolate brownie to go with his coffee.

"I was in the right place at the right time," Maxine said modestly. But she had to admit she liked seeing a newspaper headline that said, 'Chocolatier Saves The Day.' She was still curious though.

Why had Julianna run out on her own wedding? And who had she been going to see? The questions niggled at her demanding answers.

It was a question she asked Detective Shannon when he dropped in later that day.

"She claims she doesn't remember anything," he said taking a bite of her latest chocolate, an eggnog flavor. "Not my favorite," he said, "but then I don't like eggnog."

"Is that possible?"

"What? That I don't like eggnog?"

"That she doesn't remember anything," she said.

"Hard to say," he said simply. "Cyanide stops the body from being able to use oxygen. So if the oxygen supply was cut off long enough it could cause problems with memory."

Maxine looked as horrified as she felt. "But she's all right?"

"The doctors feel she'll make a full recovery but whether she'll get her memory back on what happened that night is another story."

"So who would have access to cyanide?"

"Cyanide is used in manufacturing. Game boards for one thing," Patrick said.

"So almost anyone who worked for either of ye Olde family firms."

"Bingo," Patrick said. "I want you to be careful Maxine. Juliana came within an inch of dying. If you hadn't recognized the signs she'd be dead."

She shivered and it wasn't from any sudden draft coming through the door as he left. How had such a happy event gone so horribly wrong? She was dreading her trip out to pick up the wedding cake.

The family had already assured her they wanted nothing more to do with the cake and who could blame them. Kevin had said he had an idea... what that was she had no idea. He'd said he had a few more things to sort out and he'd get back to her.

She was about to give him a call when her phone went off and she noticed it was Kevin calling.

"Hi," he said. "You ready to host a party tonight?"

"Not really," she said cautiously. "What's up?"

He laughed. "Since the food's already paid for and none of the family wants it we've decided to throw a party with it."

"But...for who?" She couldn't think of anyone who would want such a macabre reminder.

"The shelter," he said simply. "They don't need to know where it came from and we're adding some seasonal treats. My crew is decorating a church basement as we speak. Zeke and Amoury have both volunteered to help out as well as supplying extra turkeys."

"And it's tonight." Her voice squeaked going up an octave.

"We want the food used as quickly as possible so it stays fresh," Kevin said grimly.

"I'm going to have to do something with the cake," she said, thinking quickly. "A wedding cake won't work."

"I trust you to work your usual magic," Kevin said. "You're in then?"

"I'm in," she said. Still, she felt a little shell-shocked. She'd long since realized being a caterer meant being able to think on your feet but she hadn't seen any of this coming.

Heath was upstairs working on Christmas chocolates for the shop. She could probably draft him. Jane was coming in at eleven to help with the busiest part of the day and do the books. She could do the books another day.

When it slowed down a bit she could spend some time figuring out what to do with the cake. What, she thought wildly, would be appropriate for a homeless celebration cake?

As usual Heath supplied the answer. "So? Homeless people spend time in Beacon Hill and other parks as well. Just take out anything that makes it obviously Butcharts, along with all the bling and personal stuff." He grinned. "A couple of years ago, someone got upset because he claimed the homeless were catching ducks from Beacon Hill Park and roasting them for dinner."

"How did I miss that?" she said wonderingly.

"It was short lived," he said laughing. "Our social studies teacher made it a topic of the day. Half the class had to argue against killing ducks in Beacon Hill Park and half had to argue for the homeless man accused."

She shook her head. "Should I ask which side you argued for?"

"The homeless man," he said cheerfully. "I argued ducks were good eating and the homeless shouldn't be denied the right to enjoy duck when most people could afford to get it from the supermarket or restaurant of their choice."

She laughed. "And the other side?"

"The ducks of Beacon Hill Park are special and should be safe from barbarians who feel they're outside regular laws. It's a child hood rite of passage to feed ducks in Beacon Hill and children would be traumatized to think the ducks they're feeding might end up on a homeless man's plate."