Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes (Culinary Competition Mysteries Book 3) (20 page)

A sign hung from one of the spires lined up along the top edge of the towering iron gate. Gold letters on a white background were ringed with what, from the front seat of the Mini, appeared to be a wreath of real white roses.

Lance & Shepler

Wedding

The luxe sign was an unexpected detail, but Amy shouldn't have expected anything less. If Bridget Mahoney was involved, an event was sure to be elegant. Cheap and easy was never the savvy businesswoman's style. Amy followed the directions of the deep male voice that crackled through the security monitor. She led the catering van to the back of the massive three-story house where a team of Bridget's staff was waiting to help. As JoJo expertly backed the van up to a garage door, a man on a golf cart beckoned for Amy to follow him. She nodded and stepped on the Mini's gas pedal as the cart disappeared from view on the lane ahead. She hadn't realized the house was sitting on top of a hill, but it was. The rolling landscape hid a large parking lot that was nestled in a valley.

When she got out of her car and turned toward the grand house, it wasn't even visible. Was the hidden parking area part of the natural terrain or courtesy of a construction crew? However it had been made, she was impressed by the clever design, and she hadn't even made it into the house.

A quick ride in the golf cart brought her to a back door of the mansion. The driver took the garment bag containing her dress and the tote bag with all of her other beauty supplies. He said he would put it in her room as he directed her to follow a hallway into the kitchen.

When she reached her destination, Amy stopped in the doorway for a few seconds, admiring the French country-style kitchen. The light cream-colored cabinet doors were expertly distressed to look as if they had come from a century-old house in rural France. Or maybe they had. Bridget seemed like the kind of person who would go for real antiques over clever reproductions. The island in the center of the room was larger than Amy's dining room table with all of its leaves in place. Along one wall a stack of ovens sat beside a brick fireplace. Next to the ovens there was an eight-burner industrial stove with a water spigot extending from the wall behind it to fill pasta pots. A gargantuan refrigerator was disguised with wood paneled doors that matched the cabinets. There was one word for the kitchen—impressive.

Bridget, wearing a sleeveless, pale lavender sheath dress, sat on a stool beside the island. A clipboard sat on the stone counter in front of her. She looked up. "Welcome. I'm so excited to finally be able to host a wedding here. The florists are still working in the atrium, so we'll go see that after the bride arrives."

Amy smiled but didn't quite make eye contact since she was still checking out the drool-worthy kitchen. A wooden panel was set into the wall of fireplace brick. The door to an oven that was sure to make excellent pizza. Too bad she hadn't known about that. She could've brought supplies to
make
the pizzas Carla and Shepler had repeatedly threatened to order.

"I'm sure Carla will be blown away. A gorgeous mansion wasn't even on her venue radar. I know she is over-the-moon excited. I can't thank you enough for doing this, especially on such short notice."

Bridget slipped off the stool. "You're welcome. I bought this place ten years ago, and in all of that time, I've never been able to convince one of my friends to have her next wedding here. I'm thrilled to finally be able to execute the atrium wedding I've envisioned for years. I may be an old cougar, but I guess I'm still a romantic at heart."

She pointed at a doorway at the far end of the kitchen. "If you would like to check on the food, everybody is in the catering kitchen."

Two kitchens? Again…impressive. The second kitchen resembled the one at Riverbend with stainless steel counter tops over glossy white cabinets. Modern and efficient with everything a caterer could want to put the finishing touches on a gourmet meal. JoJo and her crew were chatting merrily as they arranged brownies, cookies, and bite-sized pastries on platters.

"Do you guys need any help?" Amy asked as she smiled in approval of a tray of perfectly aligned vanilla custard tartelettes.

"Nope. We are right on schedule, so go finish getting ready," JoJo said. She skillfully maneuvered a sheet of plastic wrap over the top of a tray of brownies. Most people would end up with a wad of tangled wrap and an outburst of colorful profanity while trying to accomplish the same feat.

Amy turned to find Bridget quietly chatting with a man in a black chef's uniform. He nodded and then opened the door to another room. The walls of that space were lined with shelves brimming with glass jars, boxes, and bags. Amy had a pantry the size of a small closet. Bridget's pantry was the size of a small grocery market.

"The bride should be here soon," Bridget said as she casually inspected the trays of baked goods. She looked at Amy. "Would you like to wait for her in the room where you two will get ready?"

Amy tried to memorize the route from the kitchen to the bedroom, but it was hard to concentrate while ogling crystal vases filled with massive bouquets of exotic white flowers and the many breathtaking paintings hanging on the walls of the hallways. When Bridget opened the door to the bedroom, Amy gasped. The room was straight out of the fantasies of every woman who had ever dreamed of being a princess, complete with a four-poster bed covered by a pink silk bedspread embroidered with a network of tiny white roses. A massive antique wood wardrobe truly looked as though it could be a portal to another world. Across from the bed was a sweet vanity with two angled side mirrors and plush pink velvet stool. An idyllic place for a bride to prepare for her wedding.

Bridget strode across the room and pushed open the double French doors. She stepped onto the small balcony and motioned for Amy to join her. She pointed down at a dome of glass made of hexagonal panes that looked like a bubble of clear honeycomb.

"That's the atrium. I thought Carla might like to keep an eye on the preparations as she gets ready," Bridget explained.

When Amy leaned a few inches to the left, she could see clearly through the center of one of the panes. There were rows of chairs lined up inside and people moving around between the lush green plants and trees. It felt as if she had been transported onto the set of an elegant, high-budget movie.

"This is incredible." Amy wrapped the always detached and business-like Bridget in a quick hug. "Sorry if you're not a hugger, but I can't help myself. Your generosity is astounding."

"What are you two looking at? Something spectacular, I would imagine."

Carla had slipped into the room during the hug fest. She stood next to the bed, absentmindedly running her fingers across the silky bedspread. Another woman dressed in a straight black skirt and white blouse glided through the doorway, carrying the vintage wedding dress ensconced in a clear plastic dry cleaner's bag. As Carla crossed the room to join Amy and Bridget, the woman unwrapped the dress, arranged it on the bed next to Amy's ensemble, and then quietly left.

When Carla reached the balcony's railing, she gasped. A tear rolled down her cheek as she turned to Bridget. "I don't know what I did to deserve a wedding like this, but thank you. Thank you so very much."

Bridget smiled as she took Carla's hand and cradled it between hers. "You and your future husband do so much for this community. You take care of the sick. He solves murders so families can get justice and closure for the loss of their loved ones. For all you do for the residents of Kellerton, this is the least I can do for you."

"So you don't care if he sees
you
, you just don't want him to see the dress?"

The tiny, bow-shaped rhinestone barrette clipped into the side of Carla's dark caramel-colored hair sparkled as she nodded. "I've kept the dress a secret for so long, I don't want to ruin the surprise this close to the ceremony, just because I have the munchies."

The best laid secret plans undone by a doughnut craving? Not if Amy had anything to do with it. The bride was hungry. Walking down the aisle with a growling stomach was not a good way to start a marriage.

She slid off the end of the plush bed where she and Carla had been hanging out for the last ten minutes, chatting about everything from comfortable formal shoes to snoring husbands. It had taken less time than Amy had imagined to get dressed. She thought she was going to do Carla's hair and makeup, but her friend had arrived with both tasks completed. It wasn't a snafu in coordination—it was Carla's way of making Amy's life just a little easier. Not that styling Carla's super short hair would involve much more than combing it and spritzing on some hair spray.

Now, instead of applying eye shadow, her task was to find a wedding dress cover-up. Amy twisted the brass skeleton key that was fitted into the lock of the massive, lion-footed armoire. She pulled open the doors and smiled. A white silk robe hung on one of the padded hangers. She swept it out and held it in front of herself to demonstrate its dress-covering potential. "Will this work?"

"I think so!" Carla giggled as she slid off the satin bedspread. "Whee! The bed is so big and luxurious, I feel like a little kid playing in Cinderella's castle."

All of the rushing around and worrying to prepare for the wedding was worth it to see her somber friend so excited and happy. A giddy Carla was a rare sight. Nobody deserved a fairy-tale wedding more than the emergency room nurse and her prince of a homicide detective.

The long, full robe easily covered the ethereal tea-length wedding dress. Every bit of billowy, white chiffon and the adorable faceted glass buttons on the waistband were hidden from view. After Operation Cover-up was complete they looked at each other.

"Do you know how to get to the kitchen?" Carla asked as she peeked over the balcony railing again to check out the scene in the atrium below. "Other than rappelling off the balcony and walking around the house until we find the kitchen door, I have no idea how to get there."

Amy had really, really tried to remember every twist and turn as Bridget led her to the dressing room. But getting smacked with awe over the supremely plush room had knocked the information right out of her brain. "Push the button. I have no idea how to get back to the kitchen either."

When Bridget left the room, she instructed them to push the doorbell-like button next to the light switch if they needed anything. Getting from a bedroom to the kitchen in an unfamiliar house normally wouldn't require the assistance of a guide, but Bridget Mahoney's massive maze of a house was far from a normal abode.

Ten minutes later they made it to their destination. They probably would've ended up in the garage without the help of the kindly older woman who had responded to their distress call. As they approached the cook's fantasy of a kitchen, it sounded as if a party had already started. Voices and laughter bounced down the hallway that Amy was sure wasn't the same one Bridget had escorted her through.

About a dozen people were gathered around the massive island in the middle of the room. The unmistakable scent of pizza made Amy's stomach gurgle with longing. She hadn't realized that she was hungry too. The chef Bridget had spoken with earlier slid a long-handled wooden peal into the glowing mouth of the wood burning oven set above the fireplace. He pulled out a sizzling pizza. The crust was puffy and lightly charred, topped with vibrant red tomato sauce, bubbling cheese, and big chunks of sausage.

Carla's unwavering smile got even wider when she saw Shepler at the end of the island. She abandoned Amy to join her groom and the pizza party. Food and some relaxed moments with her man, the perfect antidote to ward off the nervousness that Carla had admitted to before coming downstairs.

"I plan on this party lasting well into the night. Need to make sure everybody is well fed to start out the evening on the right foot," Bridget said to Amy.

"That's a great idea."

Bridget gestured at the lineup of pizzas scattered across the island's granite counter top. "Please, grab a plate and enjoy. I bet you've been so busy today you haven't had much to eat. There's one with fig preserves, prosciutto, and goat cheese next to the sink."

Amy couldn't resist trying the sweet and salty flavor pairing that none of the others had even touched. It was divine. Among the hungry crowd, she recognized Vince, the owner of the flower shop where Carla had ordered Shepler's boutonniere. Amy loved the incongruity of the spiked hair, tattoos, and heavy work boots sported by a man who worked with delicate flowers for a living. He looked intimidating, but his friendly smile and easygoing attitude quickly put customers at ease. Bridget must've hired him to add more blooms to the atrium space.

Three men dressed in blue jeans and black polo shirts embroidered with Castle Entertainment were chatting with a fourth man dressed in a tuxedo. Apparently, Bridget had added music and dancing to the reception.
Yay!
It had been a long time since Amy had slow danced with her husband. As she watched Carla and Shepler smiling at each other, Amy wished Alex was with her, but he wouldn't be arriving until later with the other guests.

"Excuse me. Could you get me a slice of that pizza?"

"The fig and prosciutto or sausage and mushroom one?" Amy asked as she turned to look at the person behind her who had made the request. She was surprised to see it was Thane. "Well, hello. What are you doing here? Moonlighting with one of the other businesses that are helping with the wedding?"

He shook his head slightly and glanced at Shepler. "Sausage and mushroom, please. I actually had to make a delivery. It seems that Mr. Shepler forgot to purchase a few things, like matching socks, a belt, and cuff links. Mrs. Mahoney's assistant called and asked me to bring a selection of the items for him to choose from." He held out his plate so Amy could deposit the pizza slice onto it. "I don't mind. It's nice to get away from the empty store. Plus this house is amazing, and I get a free meal. I'll never be able to afford even a luxury apartment if I keep working for a business that barely turns a profit."

Shepler had forgotten to buy accessories for his suit? The man whose career depended on him noticing little details had forgotten a boatload of things on his wedding day. How sweet to see the average human side of the juggernaut of a detective. She couldn't help but grin at him.

"What are you smiling about?" Shepler asked.

"I'm just happy for you and Carla. That the day is finally here for you to start your lives as husband and wife."

His eye twitched as a faint smile curved his lips. "I just wish I didn't have an open case hanging over my head right now."

Amy slid a slice of black olive focaccia onto her plate. "It won't be for much longer. The murderer messed up. He'll be in jail when you two get back from your honeymoon."

Shepler looked at the dark-haired man in a navy blue suit who was standing beside him noshing on pepperoni pizza. "Harry, meet Amy. The matron of honor you'll be walking down the aisle with. She's Carla's best friend and a bit of an amateur detective."

Carla had told her the story of how the men met at the police academy. Harry nodded a greeting to Amy. "Nice to meet you. I hope you're right. I'd be happy to slap the cuffs on somebody so Bruce can fully concentrate on his honeymoon duties. Just point me to the guilty person."

"Hopefully, I'll be able to do that soon."

The chef pulled a dish full of sizzling baked ricotta out of the brick oven. As soon as he slipped a spoon into the molten cheese Amy helped herself to some, spreading it on the square of olive-studded flatbread. Vince, from the flower shop, squeezed in beside her. He set his plate on the counter and pointed at the baking dish. "Can I have some of that?"

As Amy scooped a mound of the gooey white cheese onto the plate, he snatched his phone off the bracket on his belt. He scowled at the screen. His eyebrows pulled together as he read something. He shook his head slightly and replaced the phone in its holder. When he looked back at Amy, his friendly expression had returned.

All of the people helping with the wedding continued to chat and eat for another ten minutes until Bridget suggested the wedding party might want to do a practice run of the ceremony. The officiant from the hospital chapel had arrived and was waiting in the atrium.

Amy slipped into the caterer's kitchen to check on the food prep. Everything was still right on track. In fact, JoJo and her helpers had even been able to grab a few slices of pizza for their dinner. All of the food that didn't need to be refrigerated was already in the reception room, waiting for the party to begin.

When Amy returned to the main kitchen the meal was wrapping up. Many of the people were looking at their phones, catching up on anything they might have missed between working and eating. She hung back near the refrigerator and watched, counting uniforms. People from at least half a dozen businesses were eating a pre-wedding dinner, from parking valets to DJs and videographers. Carla and Bruce may not have invited many people, but Mrs. Mahoney wasn't going to settle for a low-key wedding in her house.

A few minutes later, Bridget led the way to the atrium. Finally, Amy and Carla got to see the space without the bug-eye, overhead view through the hexagonal roof windows. The glass-walled room was like a miniature forest in a fairy fantasyland. The wedding party wandered around the brick paved paths for a few minutes, examining the twinkling lights strung through the trees and stopping to admire the bubbling wrought iron fountain tucked in the corner of the room.

Amy discovered brass nameplates staked into the ground at each tree's base. Small palm trees grew next to plum, apple, lemon, and orange trees. Delicate white and purple orchids, their roots tucked into moss-filled baskets, hung from some of the branches. The pastel blooms added color to the trees, some of which were already sporting immature fruit. White folding chairs were arranged in the open space in the center of the room. It was a bit humid, but not nearly as warm as Amy had expected.

As they ran through the sequence of the simple ceremony, Amy found it hard to stand still. She switched her weight from foot to foot, while she held her white daisy bouquet in one hand and Carla's vintage rhinestone one in the other, as the bride and groom practiced exchanging rings. She stopped fidgeting when Carla glanced over her shoulder and said, "Please make sure you don't stand on that loose brick during the ceremony. It's hard to concentrate on repeating vows with the thumping."

After the second practice Bridget announced that the guests would start arriving soon, so practice time was over. Carla and Shepler led the way out of the atrium, holding hands as they strolled along the winding path. Amy edged closer to Harry and whispered, "Would you by any chance have handcuffs with you right now?"

His dark, bushy eyebrows shot up as he looked at her. "I thought you were married."

She hadn't thought about how her question would be taken. The heat of mortification stung her ears, but she pressed on. "I am. I…the killer is here in the mansion."