ENGAGED TO BE MURDERED (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 4) (4 page)

              “And that Trudy could be in danger.”

              Their eyes met. Both were nervous and exhausted by the ordeal.

              “What did you think of Sadie?” Kitty asked, treading carefully so as not to step on Sterling’s investigative toes.

              He furrowed his brown so she clarified, “The jeweler. The biker chick.”

              He cocked his head unsure of what she'd meant to imply. Kitty didn’t elaborate. She didn’t want to press. What she wanted most was to get home—and hopefully with Sterling—before she could go off the deep end, worrying and panicking and over-analyzing every blink and raised brow she’d observed that evening.

              “Do you have to go back to the station?”

              She searched his eyes, having developed a skill for finding his answers before he spoke them.

              “I won’t be able to do anything until the autopsy report comes back,” he explained, which made her tense muscles relax. “I’m parked out front. I’ll follow you. Drive carefully.”

              Kitty nodded and quickly made her way to the back of her store where she turned off the majority of the lights and threw on her peacoat and hat. The cakes were still out, and she didn’t want a rodent problem, so she returned the leftovers to their boxes she’d tucked under the table, and began stacking them. Sterling didn’t let her get very far before he lent a hand and loaded as many as he could into his arms.

              Together they made their way to the door where Kitty juggled three boxes against the wall to set the alarm and flip off the last lights. She followed Sterling out and then locked the door.

              “Don’t take this personally,” he stated when he gathered her sickened expression.

              Kitty assumed a statement would follow then she realized he was referring to Margie McAlister’s untimely death.

              “How can I not at this point?”

              The question hung between them as thick as the falling snow. With a sigh, Kitty stalked up the snowy sidewalk, unlocked her Fiat, and carefully set the cake boxes in the backseat. When she stepped back, Sterling placed the remainder he’d been holding inside then shut the door.

              “I’ll be right behind you,” he told her.

              She could’ve used a hug or a kiss or more reassuring statements, but he only offered a grim smile then strode off to his Jeep three cars down.

              They drove slow and steady through the twinkling streets of Greenwich. Often Kitty checked her rearview to be certain he was still behind her and he always was, following her so closely that no car had a chance of squeezing in between.

              When they reached her quaint, blue house on Orchard Street, Sterling helped her carry the cakes inside where she stacked them precariously among the crowded items in her refrigerator.

              “Shoot, we forgot the whiskey,” she noted, concerned she had nothing Sterling would want to drink.

              “Did we? I didn’t see it on the table when we left.”

              “You didn’t?” She closed the fridge then grabbed a bottle of Merlot from the cabinet, as Sadie Francis came to mind. The woman was unusual. “I hope red’s okay,” she added, as she popped the cork.

              Sterling grabbed two stemless wine glasses from the cupboard, a slightly more masculine option compared to the long stem variety, which was his way of confirming that, yes, he liked red wine.

              Kitty resolved that confronting Sadie about whether or not she stole the whiskey during the height of a virtual crisis would be her pretense for paying the jeweler a visit tomorrow. It set her mind partially at ease by the time she and Sterling sat down on her living room couch.

              She studied Sterling’s face, trying not to be obtuse about it. She was feeling desperate. If their relationship hadn’t evolved into something serious, she’d have no qualms about snooping and rustling up her own clues and evidence, anything to win Trudy over and keep her safe. But she’d gotten to know Sterling well enough to know he’d never stand for it. She didn’t want to risk losing him, and her prior snooping had compelled him to draw a line in the sand. As much as she’d helped him, he maintained the boundary. Put bluntly, her methods of solving a murder had never been appreciated and they never would be.

              Sterling’s gaze was soft as he sipped the wine in silence. His fast thinking mind was hard at work in such a way that disturbed her. The shirt he wore, a thin, black knit sweater, hugged his musculature, while his weathered jeans clung around his legs with a relaxed fit. Under any other circumstance she’d be all over him, but given all that had transpired commingling with his dark loss for words, Kitty suddenly realized there was so much she didn’t know about him or understand. He was open, but only on certain topics. When it came to his work, the walls shot up and there was just no getting through.

              Still, Kitty had an impulse to try.

              “If it was the ring that killed her, then you’ll want to look closely at Sadie Francis.”

              “Is that why you asked me what I thought about her?”

              She nodded then nervously gulped her wine.

              “I’ll talk with her tomorrow.” He sounded resolute, which wasn’t unlike him except for the fact she was accustomed to him fighting her on these very types of suggestions. She didn’t trust his candor.

              “Her store is called Adorned,” she supplied, unsolicited. “It’s a few doors down from Happily Ever After.”

              “I said I’ll look into her.” He didn’t look at her, but swirled the Merlot in his glass, staring vacantly at it.

              “Margie wasn’t widely liked,” she went on, subtly pressing and testing and prying.

              “Trudy liked her.”

              Kitty tried not to snort.

              “You’re not going to stick your nose in this one, are you?” It was a harsh question that she mostly deserved, but wasn’t pleased with.

              “What’s wrong? I mean really?” Kitty studied his face now that he was looking at her. He was being harder than usual. He seemed somber in a way that didn’t seem appropriate given his chosen field and the fact that he hadn’t known Margie.

              Sterling polished off his wine then filled his glass and took another long haul.

              “Stressful upbringing.”

              She waited for more, confused at how random the statement was, but he didn’t go on.

              “What does that have to do with anything?”

              “I lost my mother when I was twelve.” He downed his glass then refilled it, lifted it to his mouth, lowered it, pausing, as she waited, unsure about offering apologies when it seemed the details were pending. “Then...” he trailed off, inhaled deeply, held his breath, and exhaled. He didn’t want to tell her, but the can of worms had already been popped open. It was only a matter of time before the mess of them sprung out. “I didn’t want to have to tell you that I was married.”

              Kitty’s heart skipped a beat and as it thumped into proper rhythm, raw shock rolled through her. He glanced at her as though he was afraid to see her reaction. He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and added merely, “She also died.”

              Like a bomb going off, there was nowhere Kitty could hide. It had blown her apart.

              “So similar,” he mused then shook the notion out of his head to explain the context that wasn’t so random after all. “I guess Margie reminded me of it. You try so hard not to think about these things, then something happens and it all comes flooding back.”

              He laughed at himself, but it was forced.

              Kitty noticed he’d drained his glass again. She grasped the bottle and poured Merlot for him then topped her own glass off.

              “I can’t believe you were married,” she said, pondering the reality of what she’d always assumed would have been impossible. It explained so much when she thought about it: his distance, his reluctance to get involved or even sleep over, a hurtle they’d long since overcome, but still. If she’d known he’d been married, if she’d known his wife had died leaving him a widower, she might not have pushed him in the same ways she had, or at all.

              Sterling drew in a deep breath.

              “I can’t believe she was killed.”

              Kitty was stunned, but it came in waves. Sterling’s mother
and
wife had been killed, and Margie’s death had brought it all back, not just the knowledge, but also the feelings of loss, grief, and chaos.

              It seemed like a cycle. The information struck her, took her breath away, then receded and panicked confusion set in like a tremble. When the tremble subsided she felt empathy for Sterling so extreme it brought tears to her eyes. Then that too faded away and she felt numb for a brief respite before the information struck and stunned her all over again.

              The whole night went on like this, sleepless, jarred, and pained. At times Kitty crept out of bed, but wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. She washed her hands in the bathroom, sometimes her face, though neither was in need of scrubbing. Then she graduated on to the cakes, eating them as though the sugar could snuff out her distress.

              By the time the sun was rising, brightening her bedroom, Kitty had finally fallen into a deep sleep. When she woke, having slept through her alarm and Sterling’s as well, he was gone. Ordinarily, she’d savor this moment to laze around in bed, listen to the pings and clanks of the heaters, relish the sound of the wind whipping snow against the windows with soft ticks, but she did none of those things. She felt stuck, sad, as though her life was spinning out of control and off its axis; Trudy was at the forefront of her mind, and Sterling haunting her from the back of it.

              She lifted her head from the pillow, and felt the immediate pang of a hangover, but the wine hadn’t caused it. She’d barely had more than a glass. It was a cake hangover—too much sugar and not enough water to wash it down. She could still feel the Triple Chocolate Threat, one of Harry’s most popular samples, sitting like a rock in her stomach.

              Kitty groaned and forced herself to her feet, which she slid into her purple, fluffy slippers. She wrapped a pink robe around her, warding off the draft that was seeping through the cracks in the windowpane, and then padded into the kitchen where she put on a pot of coffee and ran through her options for making things right with Trudy.

              But how could she make it right when she hadn’t done anything wrong?

              It wasn’t like she’d asked to be cursed. She had no idea why death seemed to be following her from one wedding to the next. And she didn’t know what she could do about it.

              Still, she was determined to give Trudy the most magnificent, most romantic, most amazing wedding ever, and the first step in that effort would be to get back into Trudy’s good graces.

              Kitty drank her coffee with that aim in mind and treated herself to the last scraps of cake, as she gazed at the winter wonderland beyond the window.

              A deer trotted through the snow at the edge of her property, and began frolicking in jolly circles, which invited its fawn to cautiously come into the clearing from the shelter of the tree line and do the same.

              She watched the peaceful creatures until their long legs carried them back into the woods and by then her mug was empty. She set it in the sink then hopped to it, starting a shower and pulling a dress and tights from where they hung in her closet.

              As she got ready for her day, she vowed that this time she would not only
not
get in Sterling’s way as he investigated, she wouldn’t even let on that she was looking into matters. That would ensure they’d stay in good standing. There would be no fights, no angry nights in separate apartments, and no threat of the relationship ending.

              She also vowed to catch Margie’s killer, placing that goal above all others. Which meant that she’d have to hustle Trudy’s wedding into shape. It would still be perfect. She’d make sure of it. But she needed as much free time as possible to pry into the sordid lives of Sadie Francis and any other persons of interest.

              The next step in pulling Trudy’s winter wonderland wedding together would be to coordinate the decorations to give the ceremony a unified presentation, and that’s precisely what Kitty bared in mind when she knocked on Trudy’s apartment door at a quarter to ten in the morning and said a silent prayer that Ronald not be home.

              The door popped inward and Trudy’s bright eyes darkened, as her pleasant demeanor fell flat.

              “I thought I’d catch you before you left for the salon,” Kitty said cheerfully, even though it was the opposite of how she felt. She wedged a stack of wedding binders through the crack in the door to prove she meant well. “I made some collages of decorations to see if you like any of the looks I’ve put together.”

              Trudy frowned, her mouth an annoyed line, and drew the door back. Kitty spilled through and felt a pang of nostalgia for the good times they’d had in Trudy’s cramped, eclectic home.

              When Kitty reached the living room she striped her hat off her head, fluffed her hair, and then unbuttoned her peacoat, holding the binders to her chest with one hand all the while.

              Trudy stared at her. Her arms were crossed. She didn’t look pleased.

              After setting the binders on the coffee table and draping her coat on the back of the armchair, Kitty met her friend’s gaze. There would be no diving into wedding decorations. There would be no laughs over one idea or the next. Not until they cleared the air. Not until Trudy believed she was truly and deeply sorry, and willing to do everything within her power to fix what was so clearly broken between them.

              But Trudy didn’t give her the opportunity to lead the apologetic conversation.

              “I’m not sure Ronald and I can keep the date.”

              Kitty dropped to the couch, defeated.

              “Someone has to put Margie’s funeral together. That’s a lot of work—many arrangements and phone calls,” she explained, but it was really an excuse, a way for Trudy to distance herself from her cursed friend.

              “I can help with that,” she said, trying to perk up.

              “That won’t be necessary,” she snapped.

              “I’m sure you’re capable, but I want to help.”

              “How can I allow that, Kitty, when it’s clear as day that everything you touch turns to fire and brimstone?” Trudy looked away as though Kitty didn’t deserve eye contact. “Not to mention you never liked Margie.”

              “But—”

              “I just don’t believe you’re being sincere when you say you’d like to help.”

              “Trudy, are you firing me?”

              Kitty’s voice was a trembling quaver and her eyes welled up with tears.

              For all the effort Trudy had put into remaining stern and keeping a stiff upper lip, she collapsed into a fit of sobs when she saw Kitty in shambles. She swept through to Kitty’s side, sitting next to her on the couch, and took her hands.

              “I don’t know what to do!” she confessed, searching Kitty’s face to see if she’d lead the way. “Was she killed? On purpose? Had the poisoned ring been meant for me? Why does this keep happening at your weddings?!”

              “I don’t know!”

              “I don’t want to be mad at you, Kitty, and deep down I’m not! But I am scared! I’m terrified! I don’t know what to do except keep my distance from you! Ronald’s afraid to marry me. He wants to move to Nova Scotia!”

              “Nova Scotia?!” Kitty was in an absolute tizzy. “What the hell’s in Nova Scotia?!”

              “I don’t know!”

              As if sharing one heart and mind they both sighed in aggravation that quickly turned comical until they were both chuckling and sobbing like a pair of lunatics.

              Then Trudy exclaimed, “I’ll get the wine!”

              “I’ll get the wine! You get the sage!”

              “You get the sage! I’ll call the salon! I can’t go in like this! Look at me!”

              Trudy was a fright. Her mascara had streamed down her cheeks and her red lipstick had worked its way over her shiny teeth.

              “What about the wine?” Kitty said, worried as a mouse in a cat’s shadow.

              “We’ll both get the wine,” she devised.

              And they did.

              Several bottles.

              Kitty took to popping the corks and Trudy dialed the salon and explained her reasons for not being able to make it in, while she lit up a smudge of sage and waved its thick tendrils of smoke throughout the living room. Soon Trudy ended the call and tossed her cell on the armchair, closed her eyes, and focused all of her attention on breathing the sage smoke deeply.

              Likewise, Kitty followed the trails of smoke with her nose, sucking them up her nostrils, as she balanced a full glass of aromatic Shiraz in her hand.

              When both ladies were satisfied they’d been cleansed, at least for the time being, they sat back down on the couch and sipped their wine, letting the alcohol burn through them to take the edge off.

              “Okay, look,” Trudy began in a tone that alluded to all she might divulge. “In the other murders when you foraged ahead, I was in awe of you and so proud when the killers were exposed.” She drew a long sip of her Shiraz to gather her thoughts. “But this time I’m really, really worried, Kitty. I don’t want you doing anything to get yourself hurt or killed.”

              She sounded like Sterling, but Kitty agreed.

              Trudy exhaled as though doing so would push the words out of her and finally said, “I have a very bad feeling about Sadie Francis.”

              “Why?” she asked, enthralled.

              “Because of what happened yesterday morning.”