Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (7 page)

BOOK: Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3)
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I kept moving with Melinda and Zelda closely following. "It’s okay, I know Moira."

I opened the door to the back room and Moira looked up from a box of clothes. "Scotti Fitzgerald?" She slapped her knee and opened her arms to me. "Where have you been girl?"

 

We shared a quick hug. "Hi Moira. Lots to tell." I winked. "We have to do a girl’s night sometime soon. But here’s the short version." I held up my hand and flashed the ring. "I’m getting married."

 

Moira pushed back a lock of thick auburn hair and her round lavender eyes popped wide as she examined the ring. "Damn girl, you scored." She snorted. "You got yourself a sugar daddy?"

 

I swept my arm toward Zelda and Melinda. "You remember Zee."

 

Moira nodded. "Hey Zee."

 

"And this lovely lady is my future mother-in-law, Melinda Jordan."

 

Moira cringed. "Damn, put my foot in it, again."

 

Melinda smiled. "You have a lovely shop."

 

Moira nodded a thanks and turned to me. "And you’ve come to my humble abode for your wedding dress? I’m honored."

 

I nodded. "Yes, please."

 

Moira’s gaze flitted to Zee and Melinda. "Just the bride? Or are we going for the trifecta?"

 

Zelda shrugged. "Got anything that’ll go with army boots?"

 

Melinda smiled and said, "You have such lovely things here, I’d be game too."

 

Then the parade began. Moira and her two sales ladies brought in and carried out dresses non-stop. Long dresses, short dresses, lace dresses, silk dresses, crocheted dresses, even a couple of suits. Between the three of us we tried on everything in the shop, but with no winners.

 

I frowned at Zelda. "I can’t do the bridey thing. I just can’t, Zee."

 

Melinda said, "Are there other vintage shops we can try?" She pulled her cell from her bag and started scrolling. "You know, my friend Meg might know of something on the west side…"

 

Zelda blew her bangs off her forehead. "Let’s hope so, because I’m not wearing a purple and green ug-oh bridesmaid dress." She turned to me. "You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?"

 

Flushed and a little out of breath, Moira rushed toward us with three dresses draped over her arms. "Scotti honey, look what I found. A client asked me to hold them three months ago but never came back for them." She exposed her big teeth in a grin. "Lucky you."

 

I wiggled my fingers. "Gimme."

 

The first two dresses looked great on the hangers but looked terrible on a human body — at least my human body. But when she handed me the last one, I knew before I put it on, that I’d found my wedding dress. A simple floor-length sheath of blush-colored lace and silk, with a V-neck, a small flounce at the hem and a fishtail ruffle down the back. The empire waist drew attention to the bust and away from the tummy — everything a pregnant bride wants in a wedding dress.

 

I pulled back the dressing room curtain, stepped out and twirled "Well?"

 

Zelda’s mouth hung open. "Hell, you look so good I want to marry you."

 

Moira whistled. "Me too." She snapped her fingers. "Oooh, I have the perfect shoes for that dress. Be right back." She headed for the front of the shop.

 

Melinda gave me the nod of approval. "I think we have a winner."

 

I heaved a big sigh. "Thank God! Now I won’t have to get married in my underwear." I stared at my reflection the mirror. "I don’t want to take it off. It’s too pretty."

 

Then a woman said, "Melinda? Is that you?"

 

Rousted from my dreamy state, I spun around and barely missed putting my foot through the hem of the dress. I recoiled from the beautiful blond amazon bounding toward us. She smiled at Melinda but her eyes were on me. I cocked my head. "Do I know her?"

 

Melinda put on the smile she wore for people she didn’t like and stepped into the woman’s path. "Ingrid. What a coincidence." The two women met and exchanged air kisses. "How lovely to see you." Zelda and I swapped a look. "What are you doing here?" Melinda asked.

 

Ingrid’s amber eyes assessed me from head to foot — definitely not impressed. "Oh, I come here whenever I’m looking for something special." Ingrid looked over Melinda’s shoulder and smiled at me. "Hi, I’m Ingrid Sorensen."

 

Melinda turned and fluttered her fingers toward me. "Ingrid this is Scotti Fitzgerald." I nodded. "And her sister Zelda." Zee raised an eyebrow. "Scotti is Ted’s fiancé."

 

Ingrid’s big yellow eyes went icy. "That’s right. I saw the announcement in the Sunday paper. Congratulations."

 

I looked at Zelda and whispered, "Announcement?"

 

Ingrid had to be Ted’s ex — the one who’d dear-johned him while he was in Iraq. But it didn’t take a genius to see why he’d been with her. She was tall, willowy and perfectly tanned. Her face was so symmetrical I wondered if it was nature or a really good plastic surgeon. And the platinum hair that fell to her waist was so shiny you wanted to touch it to see if it was real. Ted had never shown me pictures of her, but I was sure I’d seen her somewhere before.

 

Compared to Ingrid I was Ted’s consolation prize — and not much consolation at that. Even in my beautiful dress I was the ugly step-sister.

 

Ingrid turned back to Melinda. "How is Ted? Handsome and intense as ever?" Even her laugh was like a song and it made me want to throw up. "Still living in that old craftsman in Glendale? Did he ever fix it up?"

 

Melinda gave her the barracuda eyelash bat. "Well, as you can imagine since he’s getting married, he’s very happy."

 

Ingrid nodded and backed up a couple steps. She fluttered her wrist. "I’ve been meaning to call him since I got back in town. Thought we could catch up." She flicked another look at me. "When’s the wedding?"

 

Melinda stepped forward, forcing Ingrid back another couple of steps. "It’s a nice thought, but he’s very busy these days. He doesn’t have any free time at all, in fact."

 

While Melinda wrangled Ingrid, I ducked into the dressing room to change. Zelda followed in right behind me. I whispered, "What are you doing?"

 

Zelda eyed the curtain. "Who is she?"

 

I put my hands on my hips. "You haven’t figured it out yet?"

 

Zelda lunged at me and grabbed my arm. "That’s the ex?" She peeked through the crack in the curtains. "Damn, she’s…"

 

I pried Zelda’s hand off my arm. "Beautiful? Perfect? A 10?"

 

Zelda closed the curtain. "No. I mean, yeah, let’s face it, she’s a fucking super model. But she’s not you. I can’t believe Teddy boy went for her."

 

Gently, I folded my dress and lay it on the bench then put on my tee shirt. "Is there a man on the planet who wouldn’t go for her?" I tugged on my shorts. "Hell, I’d go for her."

 

Zelda gave me a soft punch. "Don’t sweat it. She’s married to his best friend."

 

I shoved my feet into my sneakers. "I didn’t see a ring. Did you?"

 

Zelda winced. "Maybe she’s having it cleaned."

 

I slung my bag over my shoulder, scooped up my dress and nodded toward the curtain. "We can’t stay in here all day."

 

Zelda drew back the curtain and peeked out. "It’s okay, they’re outside talking."

 

Moira rang up my purchases at the counter and as a wedding gift, threw in the perfect satin pumps for free. She chattered on about what a beautiful bride I’d be. I would’ve agreed with her if not for Ingrid. I promised to send her an invitation then we headed for the door. "Holy Jesus, give me strength."

 

We stepped outside and my hair drooped as though surrendering to real beauty. Sunset Boulevard was white and wavy with heat, and the October sun lasered off the concrete and glass, like death rays looking for a target. Ingrid however, stood tall and radiant in the broil — like a damned superhero.

 

Melinda flashed me a look of relief. "Oh well, here they are."

 

Ingrid pulled a card out of her bag, jotted something on the back and handed it to Melinda. "Tell Ted to give me a call. I wrote my cell on the back."

 

Melinda accepted the card. "We really have to be going, Ingrid."

 

Ingrid flung back her silky tresses and smiled. "Great to see you again, Melinda. And nice to meet you Scotti and Martha."

 

The three of us stood on the sidewalk, watching Ingrid sashay down the street like it was the closing scene in the movie of her life. She got into a turquoise sports car, revved her engine, then took off like a shot down the boulevard.

 

Melinda rolled her eyes and harrumphed. "The nerve." She tore Ingrid’s card into pieces and Zelda dumped them in a trash can. "I can’t believe she showed her face." I continued to stare in Ingrid’s direction. Melinda put a hand on my shoulder. "She’s gone, Scotti. Don’t worry."

 

Oh, but I did worry. Ingrid was gone for the moment, but I’d see her again. Melinda and Zelda knew that too. Women always know when another woman is after their man.

Chapter Eight

 

Ted texted to say he’d be late, but I was tired of being blown off for the damned kitchen. And the blond amazon was on the hunt, and I wasn’t about to take any chances. I texted back, saying I was on my way with dinner.

 

During the drive, images of walking in on Ted offering Ingrid a drink — for old time’s sake — and letting her chase him around the living room, ran through my head. I trusted Ted, but I’ve met a lot of Ingrid’s in my life. They don’t give up. And Ingrid was the poster girl for not giving up. I didn’t kid myself, she wouldn’t rely on Melinda to pass on her message. She knew where Ted lived, and what would stop her from just dropping by? Not a damn thing.

 

When I got to Ted’s, the only vehicle in the drive was his Escalade, and there were no turquoise sports cars in sight. I looked up to the sky and said, "Thank you God, I owe you one."

 

When I came through the door, there was no soft jazz playing, no ice cubes clinking in glasses, no murmured conversation or flirtatious laughter. In fact, it was dead silent. I set the takeout on the coffee table and dropped my bag on the sofa. "Ted?" I wandered back to his office. "Honey?"

 

The ground floor was abandoned, so I went upstairs to his bedroom. I found him asleep on the bed wearing a towel and one white cotton sock. I crawled into bed with him and whispered. "Honey?" Ted murmured in his sleep. I stroked his forehead. "Ted?"

 

His eyes fluttered open. "Hi baby."

 

We kissed softly. "Hi. Catching a nap?"

 

He pulled me into a two-arm lock and nuzzled my neck. "Dreaming about you."

 

"Hungry? I brought Chinese."

 

Ted worked his way up my neck to my lips then kissed me long and slow. "Who needs Chinese when I’ve got you to nibble on?" He pulled me on top of him and kissed me again. "You taste good."

 

I sat back on my haunches and tweaked his nose. "Let’s talk about dessert later." I rolled off the bed. "Don’t dawdle."

 

Ted groaned. "Honey…"

 

"Come on, time to feed you and the baby." I turned toward the door. "And make sure you’re wearing more than that towel when you come downstairs."

 

He groaned again and mumbled something about naked dinner, but I kept walking — knowing better than to turn around.

 

When he stumbled into the living room wearing only a pair of sweat pants, dinner awaited him on the coffee table. My loins stirred because he is one hunk of gorgeous man but also because I was feeling territorial. Instead of jumping him, I opened a beer and offered it to him. "Refreshments?"

 

Ted plopped onto the sofa and accepted the beer. The scent of Chinese food got his attention, and he peered into the cartons. "Looks good." He chugged down half his beer and snagged a carton of kung pao chicken. "Food is good."

 

I nibbled on an eggroll. "How’s the kitchen going?"

 

Ted twisted his lips into a frown. "Might take a little longer than we thought."

 

I bit my lip. "Why’s that?" I spooned a pile of shrimp fried rice onto my paper plate. "Problem?"

 

Ted leaned back against the cushions, holding the carton of food under his chin with one hand and chopsticks with the other. "Problem with the sub-flooring." He winced. "Joists need to be replaced."

 

I looked up from my plate. "The whole floor needs to be replaced?"

 

Ted scooped chicken into his mouth and nodded. "Yup." His eyes flitted to mine. "Okay?"

 

I looked back to my shrimp fried rice. "It’s okay, I’m not upset. It’s okay."

 

Ted put his food on the coffee table and scooted next to me. "Sorry baby, we didn’t know until we got in there." He cupped my chin. "You don’t want to fall through the floor, right?"

 

I sighed and nodded. "Right." He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open — all because he wanted to give me something special. "Did you hire a crew yet?" I raised a finger. "Tell me the truth."

 

He curled a lip. "I’ve been calling around. We should have crew by early next week." He shrugged. "We’ll get her done."

 

I put my plate on the coffee table. "I’d rather have you than a kitchen." I combed my fingers through his hair. "You look exhausted."

 

Ted smirked. "I’ve gone a lot longer than this without sleep. He smacked his chest. "This is a piece of cake."

 

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a big tough guy." I stroked his cheek. "It’s okay if you slow it down a little. You’re not special forces anymore, you know."

 

He slipped his arms around my waist. "You saying I’ve gone soft?"

BOOK: Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3)
12.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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