Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) (11 page)

“Warren tells me you are the best at this proposal planning thing.” Keith Emry’s voice was sincere.

“Let me assure you, Mr. Emry, that Perfect Proposals is here to help you give your lady a unique and romantic proposal. She will be thrilled with what we put together. Now, let’s talk about your girlfriend. What’s the favorite thing you like to do together?”

I opened my tablet and typed the heading “Personality” on the top of the notes section.

“Besides the obvious?” He chuckled and heat rushed over my cheeks when I realized what I had said.

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “What kinds of things do you do when you go out?” I typed a note to self to make a list of standard questions. Preferably ones that I had run past my mom, Felicity, and possibly Warren. I didn’t want to make another mistake like that one.

“Amy and I love to scuba dive,” Keith’s voice rumbled through the phone. “We’ve taken dive trips to some of the best places, like the Great Barrier Reef.”

“Wow, and she likes that?” I thought of that movie where the two divers were stranded in the ocean. Scary. I made another note to myself not to mention that thought.

“She loves it,” he said. “But here’s the thing, I want to propose here in Chicago. Amy wouldn’t want to be anywhere else when I propose and I agree. It would be great if our family and friends would be waiting in the wings, like Warren did with you. I can see her wanting to squeal over everything with her friends.”

“I’ll do my best to elicit a squeal of delight out of her,” I promised. “So the dive must take place here in Chicago.”

“Yes.”

“Great.” It was October so a warm outside dive was out of the question. “Do you have those cold weather suits?”

“No, that’s part of my problem. We only dive where it’s warm, which is not Chicago.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, understanding his dilemma. “I see how it could be a problem to have a dive proposal here. Lake Michigan isn’t exactly romantic diving. I’ll work on that. Now, when it comes to colors, what are her favorites?”

“She loves pink. I think if she had it her way, the entire world would be pink. Then there’s this dress she wears that is ruffled and sparkly.”

“Okay.” I drummed my fingers on the desk. “Does she like sunsets or sunrises?”

“Both because . . . they have pink in them.”

“Right.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “What kind of jewelry does she like? Silver or gold?”

“She likes gold. She says it goes with her tan skin and her blond hair. My girl is hot.”

“Got it.” I warmed to the enthusiasm in his tone. “Does she have a favorite drink?”

“Pink champagne.”

“You’re kidding me.” I smiled when I said it so as not to offend him.

“Not kidding.” I swear I could hear him shake his head. “She also likes stuffed animals, feather boas, sky-high heels, and anything that blings. One year for Christmas I got her one of those bedazzle machines.”

“Let me guess, she loved it.”

“Yes! Her girlfriends loved it, too. They made sparkly lamp shades and napkin holders and shoes and things I don’t want to think about right now.”

I smothered my laugh. My mom was big into the bedazzler as well. I still had four sweatshirts she had bedazzled to within an inch of their lives. Me, I liked sparkle when it was in the right place and the right time. “What about movies? What is her favorite movie?”

“You know what? She likes all those sappy Tom Hanks movies. She and her girlfriends had a movie marathon sleepover last weekend when I had to go out of town for work. She kept texting me her favorite quotes starting with ‘You’ve got mail . . .’

He sounded indulgently happy about her movie choices if not a little bit bemused. “Then there are all those Disney movies. She loves a happy ever after.”

“Right.” I typed “Disney princess” in the column. “Wow, okay.” I looked at the descriptors and had no idea what I was going to come up with. “Well, Mr. Emry—”

“Call me Keith, please. With Warren engaged to your sister, we’re practically family.”

“Okay, Keith, it sounds like we have a real challenge on our hands, but I promise you I’ll come up with something that incorporates everything you’ve talked about. Now, I also offer a package where I plan the engagement party as well as the proposal. No charge for you, of course, if I can use it for my portfolio.”

“That would be perfect.”

“Do you want the party immediately after the proposal or within a month?”

“As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t any need to delay.”

“Then I’ll plan it for immediately following the proposal. Is there a family member with a birthday in the next month?”

“Why?”

“We can use a birthday party as an excuse to gather family and friends.” That sounded good, I thought, and made a note.

“Um, sure, my friend Sam has a birthday the end of the month.”

“Great, do you think Sam will let us use him as a ruse?”

“She would probably love it actually,” Keith said.

“Oh, Sam as in Samantha.” I made another note. “Even better, actually. A surprise party for a woman is more believable and opens up the venue possibilities. Now, if I could have her number, that would help. I need to have Sam’s party seem as real as possible so that Amy doesn’t ever suspect anything. We can’t spoil our element of surprise, now can we?”

“No, I wouldn’t want that,” Keith said and gave me Sam’s number. “You know, you are really good at this.”

“Thanks.” I tried not to show my panic at figuring out how to plan a proposal for a scuba diving girly girl in Chicago.

“Listen I know this other dude who wants to propose to his girlfriend in a way that will have her talking for years. Can I give him your number?”

“Yes, of course,” I said and tried to suppress my glee. “Anything I can add to my portfolio would help.”

“His name is Mike Keifer and be sure to charge him for your services. He can well afford it.”

My heartbeat picked up as I wrote down Mike’s name. It was one I’d seen in the society pages. If I could plan a Keifer proposal that got the whole city talking, then I would be on my way to establishing Perfect Proposals as the only place to go when you wanted to create an unforgettable experience for your lady love.

I hung up the phone and went straight to the Internet. Before Mike Keifer called, I was going to have to set my event-planning packages. The first step for doing that was to Google what the going rates were for high-end wedding planners. Then I’d try the low end and settle somewhere in between, factoring in my years of experience, forty percent for taxes, ten percent for insurance, and wow, there was a lot to consider when you started your own business.

*   *   *

“You should let your father look at your business plan,” Mom announced. She had called and asked me to meet her for lunch at Portillo’s “He’s been a small-business owner his whole life. He knows a thing or two about it, you know.”

I tried not to sigh, hiding my emotions by sipping my Pepsi. For October it was a bright, warm day. The sky was pure blue and we sat out on the patio, letting the sun shine on us. I wore a pale blue sweater set, a black pencil skirt, black tights, and booties. I’d gone into town this morning and handed my business plan off to Warren’s secretary, then checked on table arrangements for Felicity’s engagement party before meeting mom at the restaurant chain known for its hot dogs.

“I’m sure Dad has other things to do besides look over my plan. Besides, it’s not the same. I don’t own a building and I don’t have any employees.”

“Not yet.” Mom picked the onions off her hot dog. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t plan for those things in the future.”

“You know you can order your hot dog without onions,” I pointed out for the hundredth time.

“It’s easier to pick them off than to say everything but onions,” she said and bit into a French fry. “Now tell me again what you’re going to do with this scuba proposal thingie.”

“I’m not sure yet.” I bit into my hot dog and savored the warm, beefy juices. I liked my hot dogs with everything including sauerkraut and pickles. “I was thinking about doing something at the Shedd Aquarium. I have a call in to their business manager.”

“What if you can’t get them to let you plan something?”

“There’s also this resort in Saint Charles with a heated pool that is indoor-outdoor. I could do some kind of under-the-sea theme . . . with mermaids and such.”

“You used to love
The Little Mermaid
when you were a kid. You must have watched it fifty times. I’m surprised you didn’t break the VCR tape.”

That made me laugh. “She was the only Disney princess with red hair.” I thought about it for a moment. “You know, she did collect baubles and such. Keith’s girlfriend, Amy, likes all things girly so maybe we’re on to something with the mermaid theme.”

“You’d have to be careful that the party doesn’t get too childish,” Mom warned. “It could go wrong very fast.”

My eyes grew wide. “It’s not like I’m going to have Disney posters and plastic rings.”

Mom laughed. “Thank goodness you are good at this stuff. If I tried to plan a mermaid theme, I’m certain the party would go on one of those reality shows where the designer has to come in at the last minute and rescue the poor woman from her own ideas.”

I tapped my finger on my chin. “I’ll have to find some really good props.”

“Too bad you don’t know anyone who deals in flea market finds.” Mom ate more of her fries. “They could help you find inexpensive décor or maybe tell you where you can rent some . . . It’s good to have connections in business.”

“Gage works for a prop warehouse,” I said as I sipped my drink. “I wonder if they have anything I could use. Maybe something from one of the traveling Broadway productions.”

“Speaking of plays, I wanted you to have lunch with me so that we can discuss the engagement party.”

I frowned. “What does that have to do with plays?”

“Nothing.” Mom waved her hand dismissively. “I needed to bring up the subject. It’s called a segue.”

“A bad segue,” I muttered.

“The engagement party,” she pressed. “I know you were worried we were rushing it. But if your sister is going to marry Warren, then I want to be able to tell everyone. Already your Aunt Betty is pressing me about the party.”

“I have the venue, Mom. It’s all under control. Seriously . . . Felicity and I even have the menu planned. I’m working with the W downtown. It’s going to be great. I’m working on this
Great Gatsby
theme. Biplanes and Roaring Twenties to keep the plane theme going.”

“Yes, Felicity told me.” Mom picked at her fries.

“Okay, if you know, then what’s up?”

“You’re in good with the detective who is investigating the murder, aren’t you? If you aren’t, you should be.”

“Yes, I know Detective Murphy,” I said. “But you told me not to talk about the investigation.”

“I told you not to rain on Felicity’s choice. We are supporting her and Warren.” Mom looked me in the eye. “But your father and I are worried about the investigation. We don’t want to go through all this work and planning only to have something bad happen.”

“Bad, like what?” I raised my right eyebrow. My sunglasses teetered on my nose.

“Felicity won’t tell me anything about what the police are saying when it comes to Warren.” Mom leaned forward. “Is he a serious suspect?”

“I certainly hope not,” I said.

“But do you know if he is or if he isn’t? Because I can’t stand the fact that my baby was questioned and then I have to wait for an arrest. If we have this party and then they arrest Warren . . . oh, my, what it will do to your sister.”

I patted my mother’s hand to try to calm the distress I saw on her face. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m doing my best to stay in the loop on this thing. I didn’t tell you because you made it clear you didn’t want to know.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m a grown woman. I can handle it. That said, I don’t want you putting Warren down. I’m certain he didn’t do anything bad.”

“I agree, Mom,” I said. “I’m certain Warren didn’t do it, either.”

“Good. So the detective, is he telling you anything? Should I be concerned that the police will do something silly and charge Warren?”

“Detective Murphy won’t tell me anything.” I shook my head and frowned. “I’ve been to see him twice in hopes he could keep me up-to-date on the investigation. But he refuses to do anything other than question me about what I saw.”

“But you are a witness. You were there. You found the body. Surely he’d tell you the minute he figures out who did it . . .”

“I’m working on him, Mom.” I patted some more. “I promise. I think Detective Murphy still considers me a suspect. So I have to be careful how I push him.”

“
What?
That’s ridiculous. You didn’t even know the victim. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head. “But I made the mistake of not figuring out he was dead and calling the cops the minute I discovered him in the bathroom. Detective Murphy thinks I’m covering up for someone.”

“Who?”

“Warren or Felicity, I suppose.”

“Well, that’s silly.” Mom pulled her hand out from under mine and sipped her pop. “Of course my baby didn’t do it, and neither did Warren. I won’t let the police even hint that they did. Do you understand? It would ruin the party and the one and only chance my baby has for happiness.”