BRIDE and DOOM (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 2) (4 page)

              He did, but stayed close to her.

              “Rebecca Motley,” said a woman.

              He realized the redhead was holding out her hand so he shook it. She was smiling, cute as a button, and looked him up and down.

              “Becca, this is a private conversation,” said Kitty, annoyed.

              Sterling shifted his gaze from Becca to Kitty and back, as it slowly dawned on him the two women didn’t exactly like one another.

              “That may be,” she said politely, “But I’d like a moment with the detective nonetheless.”

              “Why?” Kitty barked.

              “Well, Kitty,” she started in a tone so sweet it only served to mock her old college friend. “I have something to tell him that I don’t believe you need to hear.”

              She rolled her eyes and stalked off, glancing over her shoulder here and there, as she made her way to Erik.

              Becca grinned at Sterling and then her eyes turned hot and hungry.

              “I like your tats.” She ran a fingernail up his forearm and then drew back.

              “That’s what you wanted to tell me?” he questioned, fighting the tingle she’d stirred deep inside him.

              “No,” she said coyly. “It’s just an observation. I wanted to tell you that I saw who took the candlestick.”

              Sterling raised his brows at that. “You’ve got my attention.”

              She smiled and stepped in very close so that her lips brushed his ear.

              “Meet me in Room #22 and I’ll tell you.”

              His eyes darted up and locked with Kitty’s. Her mouth was drawn. Her brows arched in anguish.

              This was exactly what Sterling had been talking about. He didn’t want to be changed. But at the same time he knew he’d never set foot in Becca Motley’s hotel room. Deep down there was only one woman he wanted.

              What had he meant that he didn’t want to be changed? Did he think she had tried to change him? What on earth was he talking about?

              Kitty bounded around Happily Ever After, getting everything set up for Mandy and Erik’s arrival. She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation or its inevitable results. The Maple - Coburn wedding would take place in two days time, but with a murder in the air, she doubted the bride and groom would go through with it.

              Ugh, it was the von Winkle - Astoria wedding all over again. What were the odds? Kitty paused, a folding chair in her hand, and wondered if she might be cursed.

              She shook the notion from her mind, which made room for Sterling, but thinking about him was no better.

              He’d looked good last night—too good. And yet, he’d been almost cruel to her, dismissive certainly, rude in fact. He hadn’t given her an ounce of sympathy, not a hint of affection. It had been as though he’d completely shut off the attraction he’d once felt for her. It had been painful to see him like that, to feel his cold eyes on her. And to think only a month ago she’d been annoyed every time he’d made his boorish advances, hitting on her with no shame, calling her Doll to both charm and diminish her.

              She set the chair down then took to the task of covering each one in a plush, white cover.

              He had called her Doll once last evening. It had been as though it had slipped out accidentally. Maybe that was an indication he still felt something.

              But why would she want to be with someone who could feel something and still walk away?

              Disappearing without a word had been the rudest most hurtful thing a man had ever done to her. It should be unforgivable, but as hard as Kitty tried to get and stay mad, deep down all she felt was loss. She’d been so close to love…or at least she thought she had. Why had it slipped through her fingers?

              He didn’t want to change for her. But she hadn’t asked him to.

              Oh! He made no sense!

              And the worst of it was that Becca Motley!

              Kitty had worked herself into a tizzy when the door chimed, alerting her that she had a customer.

              She turned and saw a man who looked an awful lot like Erik.

              “Hi, Kitty?” he asked. “You’re the wedding planner?”

              “Yes,” she smiled.

              “I recognize you from last night.” He looked pale and exhausted. There was no smile on his long face. “I’m Derek. Erik’s brother.”

              “Oh!” she said, hurrying over. She shook his hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

              “I guess I’m early.”

              Kitty cocked her head then remembered Johnny was supposed to be at this meeting since he was the best man.

              Supposing Derek now was, Kitty said, “Can I offer you Perrier water? Or coffee?”

              He shook his head then ran his hand over his face.

              “Have you slept?” she asked, concerned.

              “Barely,” he said. “I’m worried sick about this.”

              “Come, have a seat,” she said, ushering him over to the table that was now dressed in a white cloth, topped with a vase of roses and basket of muffins. “Mandy and Erik will be here any minute. There’s no sense in hovering in the doorway.”

              Once Derek had taken a seat, Kitty hopped to get the coffee brewing in case the bride and groom would like a caffeine boost.

              “I can’t believe Johnny’s dead,” he muttered in a mournful daze. “And after the car accident he’d had...” Suddenly Derek slammed his fist against the table. “God damn him!”

              Kitty tried not to seem as startled as she was and focused on pouring herself a mug of hot coffee and then sat cautiously across from Derek.

              She chose her words carefully saying, “Derek, I know you’re grieving, but you really can’t blame the victim.”

              “No, I know,” he said in a quiet voice. “He was a great guy. He didn’t deserve this.”

              Sensing his anger had isolated him, Kitty placed her hand on top of his, leaning into the table.

              “They’ll find who did this,” she assured him.

              “I don’t know about that,” he said, shaking his head and meeting her gaze finally. “There were too many guests. That party was pure chaos. Everyone was drunk. Even if someone had seen the killer take the candlestick, who’s to say they’d remember? I barely remember the night.”

              Kitty drew in a deep breath and wondered what she could do or say to lift his spirits.

              “You’re going to be an excellent best man.”

              He shrugged.

              She gave him a little pat then withdrew her hand just as Mandy and Erik stepped into the store.

              Kitty was on her feet in a jiffy and wrapped her arms around Mandy.

              “How are you holding up?” she asked, urging her back so she could study the beautiful woman’s expression.

              Mandy only nodded and sighed.

              “Johnny was very special to all of us,” Erik supplied on his fiancée's behalf.

              “That detective won’t leave Erik alone,” Mandy said, angrily. “We went into the station this morning to see if we could sort this out and get Erik cleared of suspicion, but it only made things worse.”

              “We don’t know that,” Erik countered.

              “How can you be so naive?” she snapped. “He gave them his fingerprints!”

              “I didn’t touch the candlestick! I know I didn’t!”

              “Alright,” said Kitty to calm them both down. “I think we need to address the gorilla in the room. Let’s have a seat.”

              Mandy and Erik sat close to one another across from Derek. Strangely, the brothers barely acknowledged one another and yet they both couldn’t take their eyes off Mandy.

              “Now,” Kitty began in a soft yet authoritative tone. “The wedding is in two days. We need to decide if you both still want to keep the date, or if you’d like to push it back.”

              Silence all around.

              Mandy and Erik searched each other’s eyes for the right thing to do, but it was Derek who voiced his concern.

              “I think you should put it off,” he suggested.

              Mandy smirked at Derek, appreciating his concern for his brother as well as the respect he clearly had for Johnny Gibbons.

              “That’s what you’ve always wanted,” chided Erik. “To get in our way.”

              “What are you talking about?” Derek demanded. “You’re a murder suspect, Erik. Don’t be an idiot! You need to let this ride out! What if they arrest you when you’re standing at the altar?”

              “They’re not going to arrest me because I didn’t do it!”

              Then Mandy added, “I don’t really want to push the date back.”

              Derek was stunned.

              “Well, I don’t. Johnny was important to me, to all of us, and going through with the wedding doesn’t take away from how we all feel about him.”

              “It’s a bad idea, Mandy,” Derek pleaded. “Don’t marry him.”

              “See how he puts things?” Erik shouted, appalled. “I’m so sick of your jealousy!”

              “I’m not jealous!”

              “You’re not married! You’re older! You think everything should come to you first and me second!”

              “Gentlemen!” Kitty shouted. “Please!” She took a breath, while the brothers settled down. “Mandy wants to keep the date. Erik, it seems like you feel the same way?”

              “I do,” he said, sticking the words to his brother, who snorted, exasperated.

              “Well then that’s that,” she said then shot Derek an apologetic glance.

              The man was on his feet, abandoning the meeting. “Let me know where to be and what to do,” he said, tossing his business card on the table. “Email me. Until then I need to get some sleep.”

              Kitty waited for Derek to leave the store before she said anything.

              “What was that about?” she asked Erik.

              Mandy blushed and explained, “Derek’s always had a bit of a crush on me.”

              “A bit?” Erik challenged. “Delusions of grandeur is more like it.”

              “Why don’t you try feeling sorry for him?” she suggested. “He’s in love with the woman his brother is marrying.”

              “Infatuated is more like it,” Erik snapped. “He only wants what’s mine.”

              Mandy shrugged as though she wasn’t sure how true the statement was, but she wasn’t about to provoke her fiancé further.

              “I’m sure a lot of hearts will break once you’re officially off the market,” Kitty said, meaning to compliment her friend.

              “Oh, I don’t know about that.” But Mandy was being modest. She knew.

              That’s when it hit Kitty.

              Mandy was the prize that no one would win if Erik married her.

              If anyone was envied, it was Erik.

              So why had Johnny been the one to die?

              “Erik, can I speak with you?” Mandy was halfway to the door, and since Kitty didn’t want to alarm the bride, especially since the couple was keeping the date, she needed to speak with the groom privately.

              “Go on ahead, Mandy. I’ll be right out.”

              Mandy eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but Kitty’s reassuring smile put her at ease, and she nodded then told Erik she’d pull the car up front.

              When they were finally alone Kitty met Erik in front of the window display.

              “It seems like Johnny was liked across the board,” she began, easing into the quandary at hand.

              “He was.” Erik seemed to fall into a stunned daze as though the death of his friend was hitting him all over again.

              “It also seems like every man to set eyes on Mandy starts fantasizing about being with her,” Kitty pushed gently into her point.

              He snorted a laugh. “I know. People want to see me fail because I’m with her. Sometimes I feel like I have a target on my back.”

              “Erik, I think you do.”

              He cocked his head at that and shifted his stance uncomfortably.

              “What are you talking about?”

              Something in her told Kitty not to elaborate. Maybe it was the look in his eye or the way his face went slack and pale, but she stopped herself then and there.

              “I’m not sure,” she said, backpedaling. “Nothing, I suppose.”

              That only confused him more.

              She tried to laugh it off. “I think we all could use some sleep. I’ll give a call tomorrow morning to go over the details of the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, everything.”

              “Okay, sounds good,” he said, though confusion still swarmed him.

              Kitty shut the door behind him and watched Erik walk across the sidewalk and climb into Mandy’s Mazda. Once they’d driven out of sight she hurried to her desk in the back of the shop and pulled up the website for the local car impound and jotted down the address and phone number.

              All she knew was that the vehicle Johnny was driving, a BMW endearingly referred to as a Beemer, was in fact Erik Coburn’s car. If it hadn’t been Erik’s car, Kitty wouldn’t have been getting the strong—and also bad—feeling that she was. The coatroom had been dark last night, the party pure chaos. And Johnny Gibbons had a lot in common with his best friend. What if the killer had meant to take out Erik, but made the same mistake twice?

              It was worth looking into and she knew for sure that Sterling wasn’t doing just that.

              The late afternoon sun glared through Kitty’s windshield nearly blinding her as she made her way across town to the vehicle impound on the outskirts of Greenwich. On the way, she managed a precarious job of hunting through all the Greenwich car shops on her cell phone and saving the pages as her gaze snapped from her cell to the road and back again in a manic effort to organize her next step should it come to that.

              The Fairfield County Impound was a dismal structure build on a thin stretch of highway between two marshes. A pungent stench hit her like a punch in the face when she climbed out of her Fiat. Luckily, she was mere yards from the entrance.

              Inside the air was crisp and refreshing. She approached the counter where a miserable looking sixty-year-old woman was turning a floppy egg sandwich over in her pudgy hands.