Better Off Wed (17 page)

“That's what he said?” Kate sat on the floor of my office packing small Tiffany boxes into shopping bags.

“I guess they have enough proof to link him to both.” I sat down in my office chair. The blue boxes had taken up my entire floor for two weeks, and I was glad to see them go.

“I should have known from when he failed the cleavage test.”

“Kate, if we relied on your method of testing suspects, half the city would be in jail now, including most of the police force.”

“He still doesn't seem the type to commit cold-blooded murder. He sounded genuinely concerned about his daughter that day we visited her.”

I shook my head. “You never can tell about people.”

“I'm a little sorry the whole thing's over.”

“That's because your life wasn't in danger.” I used a
fat Magic Marker to cross off several days on the wall-size calendar above my desk. I'd been so preoccupied with the murder case, I'd fallen behind almost an entire week. “It may have been exciting, but I'll be glad for things to get back to normal.”

“I guess we can close the books on the Pierce wedding now.”

“The only thing left is to attend the memorial service tomorrow morning.”

“You must be joking!” Kate dropped a handful of favor boxes, and I heard the sound of tinkling glass. I hoped we had extras.

“I think it would be nice of us to pay our respects to the bride. We liked her, remember?”

The corners of Kate's mouth turned down. “I didn't like her that much.”

“We'll sit in the back and sneak out as soon as it's over. You have to go with me,” I begged.

“Why can't Richard take you?” Kate whined.

“He's going to meet us at the church. He'll be coming straight from a meeting.”

“But I have to prepare for our wedding,” Kate argued. “I don't have time.”

“The funeral is at ten a.m. and the wedding isn't until six o'clock. Do you have any other excuses you want to try out?”

“Give me a second. I'm sure I can come up with one.”

I tapped my foot. “I'm waiting.”

“You're still recovering from your accident. Too much exertion could be bad for you.”

“How much could I exert myself at a memorial service?”

“I don't know. You saw the party Bev had in her honor.” Kate wagged her finger at me in warning. “If she's in charge, there could be conga lines and limbo contests.”

“No harm ever came from going to a funeral, Kate. The murderer is behind bars, so we're all safe. There's nothing to worry about.”

Kate let out a breath. “You keep saying that.”

Leatrice knelt next to the tiny flower bed in front of our building and jumped up when I walked out the door. She wore a long denim apron with rows of pockets, each with a gardening tool or a different type of seed packet peeking out the top. I fantasized about getting one for weddings, so I could keep my emergency supplies with me at all times. With brides, you never knew when you'd need superglue, safety pins, or aspirin. The aspirin was more for me.

“Doing some morning gardening, Leatrice?” I held the door open for Kate, who carried two oversized shopping bags full of favors for the evening's wedding.

“Best time to be outside.” Leatrice tugged her apron straight. “Where are you two going so early? I rarely see you up and about before eleven.”

“We're going to Mrs. Pierce's funeral.” Kate shuffled a few steps down the walk. “Aren't you jealous?”

I knew Kate meant it sarcastically, but I could see that Leatrice didn't. I could just imagine us walking into the church with Leatrice trailing behind in her apron and green-and-pink-flowered gardening hat.

“You won't be missing much, Leatrice,” I said. “The case is closed.”

“I heard last night.”

“How did you find out, Leatrice?” Kate glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.

“The eleven o'clock news. They showed your detective friend making a statement.”

I needed to start paying more attention to current events. First I'd missed the leak in the newspaper, and now I'd missed seeing Reese on the news. I wondered if he wore a uniform or if he always wore street clothes on the job.

“It turns out that Mrs. Pierce's ex-husband killed her and Mr. Boyd.” Kate rested the bulging bags on the sidewalk.

“Did the evidence we found help at all?” Leatrice asked. “Do you think they'll call on us to be witnesses at the trial?”

I could just imagine Leatrice taking the stand in the rhinestone tiara she wore for special occasions.

I suppressed a smile. “They have enough physical evidence and probably won't need our testimony.”

Leatrice looked deflated, and I patted her on the arm. “I'm sure that Detective Reese won't hesitate to call you if he needs a reliable witness.”

“Too bad he won't be coming around any more.”
Leatrice reached into one of her many pockets for a tissue and dabbed at her nose.

“Don't take it too hard.” Kate took a few steps to her car and unlocked the trunk.

Leatrice sniffled and stuffed the tissue back in her apron. “Allergies. It must be all the pollen.”

“I'm sure you'll see Reese again.” Kate packed the shopping bags into the trunk and slammed it shut.

“Annabelle can't seem to stay out of trouble.”

“That's true,” Leatrice smiled.

I slid into the passenger seat next to Kate. “Sorry Leatrice, we have to hurry if we're going to make it to the funeral on time.”

“Sometimes I think she's got hats in the belfry,” Kate said as she jerked the car in gear and pulled away from the sidewalk. I started to correct her, then just rolled my eyes and took my cell phone out of my purse.

“I'm going to call Richard and make sure he's on his way.”

“Don't worry. We'll know plenty of people at the funeral.”

I held the phone to my ear. “Most of them were on our suspect list at one point, remember?”

Kate gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “They don't serve communion wine at funerals, do they?”

“We're not going to be poisoned, if that's what you're thinking,” I assured her. “Dr. Harriman is behind bars.”

“With this bunch, I'm not going to take any chances.” Kate pressed her lips together.

Richard finally answered his phone. “Annabelle, is that you?”

“We should be at the church in a few minutes. Where are you?”

“I've been a bit delayed. I'll try to get there as soon as possible.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“All I have to say is that Neiman Marcus shouldn't send invitations to a secret sale if they intend to open it up to everyone and their brother. I might as well be at Filene's Basement.”

“That's your important meeting? A sale at Neiman's?”

Kate's mouth fell open. “He'd better be joking.”

“This isn't just any old sale, darling. Prada is half price and not last year's line, either.” I heard lots of voices in the background. “Oh, dear. I'm being jostled in the checkout line. Do you people have no concept of personal space?”

I assumed he wasn't talking to me. “I didn't think you shopped like the rest of us mortals.”

“My Neiman's personal shopper is out sick, if you can believe the rotten luck. Don't worry about me, though. Listen, I've got to run. They're opening a new counter.” The line went dead.

Kate narrowed her eyes. “Tell me he's coming.”

“Well, the good news is he's next in line.”

The sharp asymmetrical spires of National Presbyterian Church jutted into the sky in front of us. Not exactly your typical white clapboard church with a cross on top. We parked in the huge paved lot, but neither of us made a move to open our doors.

“I'm not going in,” Kate said. “There's hardly anybody here yet.”

Only a few other cars were in the lot with us, mostly European imports. The university stickers in
the back windows of the cars read like a Who's Who of colleges. Princeton, Columbia, Duke, Harvard, Yale.

“Get down.” I slid down below the dashboard. “Dr. and Mrs. Donovan just pulled up.”

“The bride and groom?” Kate ducked behind the steering wheel. “I thought we were here to see the bride. Why are we hiding?”

“See her, yes. But I don't want to have a long conversation with her. She's probably still upset about the pictures.” I peeked over the dash. Dr. Donovan drove the navy blue Mercedes into a space across from us. I noticed the stickers on his back windshield. Andover, Princeton, Harvard. His car must feel right at home.

“Elizabeth doesn't look so good,” Kate whispered as the bride walked into the church on her husband's arm.

“How could she get more frail and delicate?”

“Don't forget, her mother's dead and her father was arrested for the murder.”

“Poor girl. She doesn't have anyone left except her husband.” Kate pressed her brows together, and a tiny crease formed between her eyes. “But if I had to be left with one person, I wouldn't mind it being him. He's at least a nine.”

I groaned. “I'm not sure which is more tasteless, rating the groom or doing it at a funeral.”

“Give me a break. This is no normal funeral.” Kate sat back up halfway when the bride and groom disappeared inside the building. “Have you ever seen such cheery people in your life?”

Cars were coming in a steady stream by then, depositing black-clad mourners with big smiles on their
faces. Couples greeted each other with air kisses and pats on the back.

“Just be thankful there aren't mimes this time,” I said.

Just then a sharp rap came on my window. “Problem, ladies?”

I raised my head and saw Fern standing next to the car door. He wore a long black jacket that reached down to his knees and a frilly white shirt that puffed up around his neck.

“What are you doing down there, girls?”

“You scared me to death.” I pulled myself up from the floor of the car and opened the door. “I thought you were somebody else.”

“You were waiting for someone hunched up on the floor of the car?”

“No. It's just that each time I'm doing something strange the same person seems to catch me.” I stood up and brushed off my dress.

Kate came around the car to stand beside me. “A cute detective, no less.”

“Tell me about this detective.” Fern put an arm around Kate and his eyes widened with excitement. “How cute?”

“What you might call tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome,” Kate said.

“Good.” He fluffed the ruffles on his shirt. “I don't like pretty boys.”

“He's not too tall.” I avoided Kate's eyes. “And nothing went on between us, Fern, so you can wipe that grin off your face.”

Kate put her foot up on the bumper of the car and straightened her stocking. “She's playing hard to get.”

“I'm surprised you've heard of it.” Fern arched his eyebrow as he appraised Kate's hemline.

“I didn't say I endorse it,” Kate laughed. Somehow Fern could get away with saying outrageous things to just about anyone and make them love him for it.

He winked at me. “Let's not forget why we're here, girls.”

I nodded solemnly. “You're right. We're here to pay our respects.”

“Wrong.” Fern lowered his voice as a group of women passed us. “We're here to critique what all these society tramps are wearing.”

I looked around to see if anyone had heard him. “Half of them are your clients,” I said in shock.

“Don't worry,” he reassured me with a grin. “I call them tramps to their faces.”

I believed him.

Kate linked her arms with ours. “This funeral might not be so bad after all.”

Fern led us up the sidewalk and into the side door of the church. We walked down a hallway lined with large floral arrangements. Tall, spiky gladiolas seemed to be the flower of the day, with white lilies coming in a close second.

Fern made a face. “I can never look at a gladiola without thinking of death.”

“We should have sent a huge bouquet of birds-of-paradise,” Kate said. “That would be different.”

“Do you notice anything odd?” I pulled Fern and Kate close to me. “They used the same color scheme as the wedding. All creams and whites with hints of blush.”

Fern shivered and rubbed his arms. “You gave me the chills, Annabelle.”

“Too bad it's been a week since the wedding or they could have reused the same flowers,” Kate added.

“Why not?” Fern smoothed the front of his jacket. “I had to fix Clara's hair the same way she wore it at the wedding.”

I winced. “I forgot about that. How awful, working on Mrs. Pierce.”

Fern shrugged. “For once, the tramp couldn't talk back.”

I stifled a laugh and thought that if I listened hard, I might hear Clara trying to do just that. We hung back as most of the crowd thinned out and went inside the main sanctuary. Elizabeth and her husband greeted people at the entrance, the doctor clearly holding his wife up. Her vacant expression and glassy eyes didn't leave much doubt she'd taken sedatives to get through the service.

“Do you recognize anyone?” Kate tried to hide behind a large fan-shaped spray of flowers.

“There's Bev Tripton.” I joined Kate behind the arrangement as Bev entered the hallway. “Can you believe the outfit?”

Mrs. Pierce's devoted best friend wore a black suit
with a wide portrait neckline, her ample cleavage protruding. The netting that extended from her black pill-box hat covered her face and came to rest on the exposed part of her breasts.

Kate did a double take. “Well, at least it's black.”

“Who is she kidding with the veil?” Fern made clicking noises with his tongue. “And that hat is all wrong for her face.”

“Here comes Dr. Pierce,” I whispered to Fern through a palm frond. “I'll bet they came together and just walked in separately so it wouldn't look bad.”

“This is ridiculous.” Fern moved the greenery away from my face. “It looks like I'm talking to a floral arrangement with four legs.”

I stepped out from behind the flowers. “I guess you could say we're having a hard time getting out of sleuth mode.”

“Do you plan to spend all day out here, girls, or can we go inside?” Fern prodded us forward. We'd only advanced a few feet when loud footsteps approached from behind. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Helen Boyd striding toward the chapel in a fire-engine-red dress. I turned around so she wouldn't recognize me.

“Talk about tramp.” Fern's jaw dropped open as Mrs. Boyd passed us. “Who is that?”

“Remember the man you told us that Mrs. Pierce had an affair with?” I said. “That's his wife.”

Fern slapped a hand to his cheek. “This is going to be the best social event of the entire year. Hurry!”

As we reached the door of the chapel, my cell phone began singing. I never remembered to set it on silent mode. I flipped it open and cupped my hand around the mouthpiece.

“I'm on my way, Annabelle.” Richard's voice echoed as if he were in a well.

“Hold on a second,” I said to Fern and Kate, and then ran outside to get better reception. The closer I walked toward the parking lot, the clearer Richard sounded.

“Has the service started yet?”

“No, but we were just about to sit down. How far away are you?”

Richard's voice faded in and out. “I'm on the parkway, not quite at the CIA.”

“I thought you were at Neiman Marcus.” I walked as far as Kate's car, and leaned against the hood, facing the bride and groom's shiny Mercedes.

“The one in Virginia, not the one in D.C.”

“Well, hurry up, Richard. You've got to see what people are wearing to this funeral.”

“All Washington women wear is black. How hard could this be?”

“Mrs. Boyd didn't get the memo. She's in red.”

“I can't believe I'm missing this,” Richard cried. “Don't let them start without me.”

My voice caught in my throat. It couldn't be. My mind started racing. “Of course. I can't believe I didn't think of it before.”

“What? You're starting to break up, Annabelle.”

My hands shook. I tried not to let the phone slip from my grasp. “I just realized something about the case, Richard.”

“I'm going by the CIA. I can hardly hear you.”

“They arrested the wrong person, Richard. I'm sure of it.”

“This again?”

“Now I think I have the proof we need. I just need to check one thing out at home.” The phone went dead. I hoped he understood me. I ran back into the church and skidded to a stop in front of Kate and Fern. They stood alone in the doorway to the sanctuary.

“That must have been some phone call,” Fern said. “Your face is all flushed.”

Kate brightened. “Was it Detective Reese?”

I shook my head. “I'm going to go call him, though.”

“It's about time you stopped being coy,” Kate said.

“I'm going to call him about the case.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I have some new evidence for him.”

“But the case is closed, Annabelle.” Kate's voice almost pleaded. “Let it go.”

“I can't let it go.” My voice trembled with excitement. “They have the wrong person, Kate. Dr. Harriman isn't the murderer, and I know how to prove it.”