Murder of a Wedding Belle (26 page)

“What did she want?”

“The first time she called, she wanted to know if I’d work for her directly and cut Brian out of the loop.” Cosmo shifted from foot to foot.”

“The first time ...?” Skye trailed off, hoping Cosmo would feel obligated to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “I told her I couldn’t go behind his back like that, but she called again, a couple of times.”

“What did she want?”

“She was fishing for information on Brian.” Cosmo’s expression hardened. “Said she was just checking to make sure he could handle such a big event.”

“Did you tell her anything?” Skye asked. “Was there anything to tell?”

“No.” Cosmo shrugged. “This is our biggest order ever, but Brian’s cool. He had it covered.”

“Did you tell him she was calling you?”

“Nah.” Cosmo shook his head. “She told me not to, and it would have just freaked him out more. You should have seen him sweating Saturday while she was grilling him about the details.”

Interesting. Belle was even sneakier than Skye had thought. Were there other secrets they still hadn’t discovered about the wedding planner? And did one of them get her killed?

A moment later Skye realized the significance of what Cosmo had said. “You came with Brian here, to the country club, on Saturday?” Why hadn’t the crew leader mentioned that when Wally questioned him?

“Not exactly.” Cosmo edged toward the scaffolding. “I came here with the other workers. Brian drove by himself.”

“Did he leave when you guys did?”

“Uh-uh. He was still talking to Ms. Canfield.”

“Did you see him after that?” Skye asked.

“Nope. He was supposed to meet with me back at the store to tell me if the lighting designs were approved, but he never showed.”

So, Brian
was
the big guy with tattoos who had been with Belle Saturday night at the Brown Bag. Why had he denied it?

Let the Poker Chips Fall Where They May

T
he instant Skye reached her car, she phoned Wally to fill him in on what Cosmo had told her about Brian. After hearing her report, Wally said he was heading immediately to LaGrange to pick up the crew leader for more questioning. Brian had just edged out Iris as their chief suspect.

Skye spent the rest of the afternoon calling vendors, then hurried home to dress for the evening’s activities. Although the bachelor/bachelorette parties were scheduled for seven p.m., she arrived at the bowling alley at six to check out the arrangements.

When Simon had purchased the business a few years ago, he had changed the name from the Gold Strike to Bunny Lanes. Skye had been touched by his choice. Simon hadn’t always had the best relationship with his mother, and naming the alley after her had been a strong indication that he was capable of forgiving and moving on.

He had also transformed the nineteen-sixties brown and orange interior to a sleek palette of blues with touches of silver. At the time of the remodeling, he had explained that his goal was to modernize the place enough to attract new people, but not so much that he lost the old regulars. Skye hadn’t been sure he could achieve the correct balance—Scumble Riverites did not like change—but he had, and the makeover was a huge success.

Having both the bachelor and bachelorette parties in the same venue was tricky, but Riley had insisted her groom be near enough that she could keep an eye on him. She had specified no porn and no strippers. In theory, Skye agreed with her cousin, but she wasn’t sure that Nick’s best man was on the same page. She could only do so much to prevent Zach from breaking Riley’s rules.

With that concern in mind, Skye’s first stop was the bar, where the men would hold their party. Previously a single long counter located next to the grill, the bar had been enclosed and expanded during the renovations and now included etched glass doors, a small stage, and a dance floor.

Frannie and Justin had decorated the bar with red and black balloons, and Skye had rented a pool table, two antique pinball machines, and a big-screen TV equipped with electronic games and a DVD player—all of which had been delivered that afternoon. Hamburgers, hot dogs, and pizza would be available from the grill, served by three attractive waitresses wearing cheerleaders’ uniforms.

As Skye entered, Bunny minced over on four-inch heels and embraced her, asking, “How many guys are you expecting?”

Skye was momentarily distracted by the older woman’s appearance. Bunny had plainly been ordering from the Victoria’s Secret catalog again. Tonight, she was decked out in hip-hugging, see-through, black chiffon pants and a sheer white camisole that was split down the front and held together with a single red ribbon.

“Let’s see,” Skye finally managed to choke out. “The groom and groomsmen make five. Riley’s uncles and cousins add another four, and Nick’s father brings the total to ten. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few more. Nick and Riley have a tendency to add to the guest list. I think it goes along with their philosophy that if one is good, two is better, and a lot is best.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Bunny tucked an errant red curl into the cascade of ringlets on top of her head. “I always say the more men, the merrier.”

Skye hurriedly changed the subject before Bunny could expand on her views about the opposite sex. “I really like these new chairs. This blue Ultrasuede fabric is holding up extremely well.” It was a big change from the old Formica tables and torn vinyl booths.

“I’m pleased as punch how good things are going with the alley.” Bunny shot Skye a quick glance. “Thanks for not telling Sonny Boy about me taking that bribe and it turning out to be funny money and all.”

“You really should tell him yourself,” Skye warned. “There is no such thing as a secret in Scumble River, and Wally had to warn the other business owners about the counterfeit bills, so the story is bound to get out.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when it starts burning.” Bunny waved her hand. “Let me show you what we have for the girls’ party.”

“Great.” Skye gave up. Bunny would do what Bunny would do. And since Skye was no longer dating Simon, his mother-son issues were no longer her problem. Another reason not to even consider his plea for a second chance.

Bunny dragged Skye through a set of swinging doors at the rear of the bar, which led to the grill. “The girls can hang out here or by the lanes.”

The grill had also received a recent face-lift. The countertops were now blue faux marble, and the stools were upholstered in a denim fabric with silver studs. Justin and Frannie had decorated this area to look like a nineteen-fifties soda shop, with posters of Elvis Presley, Frankie Avalon, and Bobby Darin. To add to the sock-hop atmosphere, Skye had rented a jukebox filled with hits of the era.

“The girls can choose from these.” Bunny handed Skye a menu that included a variety of soda-shop food, including milk shakes and banana splits. “How many are we expecting?”

“I really have no idea who’s coming. Besides the wedding party, Riley invited my mom, Aunt Kitty, Kevin’s wife, Ilene, and some high school friends.”

“Oh, well.” Bunny shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll have enough of everything. I doubled the original number Miss Canfield gave me.” She tugged on Skye’s hand. “Come on. Wait until you see the rest.”

Skye allowed herself to be pulled to the back of the alley, marveling at how fast the redhead could walk in sandals that consisted of nothing more than thin soles and a single strap attached to stiletto heels.

When they arrived, Bunny swept her arm in an expansive gesture. “What do you think?”

Here, the usual tables and straight chairs had been replaced with sofas, overstuffed armchairs, and low cocktail tables. The overhead lights were turned off, and lamps equipped with pink bulbs created a rosy glow. The menu in this newly created lounge area consisted of hors d’oeuvres, flavored martinis, and chocolates, all served by a trio of buff young guys wearing tight black pants and formfitting tuxedo shirts.

“You did a great job.” Skye hugged the older woman. “It’s magnificent.”

“You bet your butt it is.” Bunny beamed. “You didn’t think I could do it, did you?”

“Not at all.” Skye crossed her fingers. “I had complete confidence in you.”

“Sure.” Bunny glanced at her watch and her expression turned serious. “It’s already six thirty, and you know all the Scumble River people will be here early. I’ve got to make sure the bartender has the setups ready, and finish putting the snacks on the tables in the bar.” She turned to leave, saying over her shoulder, “Wait until you get that bill tomorrow. I bet we make a fortune on drinks tonight.”

Skye opened her mouth to respond, but the words died on her lips when Simon appeared at the lounge’s entrance and said to his mother with a stern look, “Remember, you need to stop serving anyone who has had too much alcohol. No exceptions.”

“Sure, Sonny Boy.” Bunny walked off, not at all fazed by her son’s admonishments. “Gotcha.”

Watching Bunny totter off, Simon half smiled. “She always has a scheme.” He turned his attention to Skye and shook his head. “But she’s worked really hard to make the alley a success.”

“Are you here checking up on her?” Skye asked.

“Nope.” He closed the distance between them and took her hand. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” The tantalizing scent of his aftershave teased Skye’s nose, and it took her a second to pull her fingers from his grasp. “You agreed to wait until Sunday for my decision.”

“And I will.” There was a faint trace of humor in the way he held his mouth. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try and sway your verdict.”

“Yes, it does.” Skye felt guilty. She should tell Simon no and be done with it. “I’m too busy to think right now, and you’re making it worse.”

“Did you get my gift?” He stroked a finger down her cheek.

“Yes, and I can’t accept it. I’m giving it back to you as soon as I have a minute.” Skye stepped out of his reach. “Now please leave so I can do my job.”

“Okay. I’ll go.” Simon turned but looked back over his shoulder, his gold-flecked eyes smoldering. “The trip is yours. Either we go together or you take it with Boyd—which would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

She watched Simon walk away, then took a deep breath and forced his words from her mind. She had a party to put on, and she wasn’t getting paid to think about her love life.

Skye’s parents, along with her aunt Kitty and uncle Wiley, were the first to arrive. She hurried over to them, kissed everyone’s cheeks, and said, “Hi. You all ready for some food and fun?”

“Men in there?” Jed, not one for small talk, jerked a thumb to his left.

“Yes,” Skye answered. “The bar’s reserved for the bachelor party.”

“Good.” He dipped his chin at May, said, “Later,” and walked away with his brother trailing behind him.

Watching them go, Kitty said, “I sure hope that pair doesn’t have too many beers.”

“You got the car keys, right?” May asked. “I don’t want to have to wrestle them from Wiley after he’s loaded.”

“Yes.” Kitty nodded. “I took them from him in the parking lot.”

“Good.” May smirked at her sister-in-law. “I’m sure glad you don’t drink, because I plan on having a margarita or two.” She looked at Skye. “That’s a pretty skirt.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“But the top’s too tight. It shows all your rolls.”

Skye restrained herself from tugging on the antique tan stretch-lace blouse; instead, she looked her mother in the eye and said pleasantly, “I don’t have rolls; I have curves.” May had surprised her again. Skye had thought her mother would object to her skirt, to either its metallic bronze color or the filmy silk chiffon material.

“I only tell you things like that because I love you and want you to look as good as possible.” May exhaled a put-upon sigh, and when Skye didn’t react, she gave a brittle laugh. “Well, we’re here to have a good time, so let’s get to it. Where’s the girls’ party?”

Skye directed her mother and aunt to the lounge, then greeted Riley, the next to arrive.

Riley’s first words were, “Did your bridesmaid’s dress fit?” Riley had given it to Skye at the shower the night before.

“Perfectly,” Skye assured her cousin, thinking,
As perfectly as a hideous dress with too little front and no back can.

After inspecting the place, Riley pulled Skye aside and said, “Try to keep the older women in the grill so the rest of us can have a good time.”

“Oookay.” Skye drew out the word. What did her cousin want her to do, put up an electric fence?

“And keep an eye on the guys,” Riley continued. “Zach’s been acting odd, and I think he’s up to something. Make sure he doesn’t get Nick into trouble.”

Before Skye could respond, Yves Galois, the photographer, arrived. Riley grabbed his arm and started reeling off orders as if she were a waitress and he were a short-order cook.

Yves rolled his eyes at Skye, then slithered out of the bride’s grasp with the excuse that he needed to fetch some equipment from his car.

The rest of the guests began trickling in, and Riley greeted them with hugs and kisses, her Frankenbride face completely hidden. To see her sweet expression as she spoke to her older relatives, you would never know that a few minutes earlier she had been ordering Skye to keep them isolated from the real party.

As Skye directed people to the proper areas and made sure both events were running smoothly, she thought about her cousin’s behavior over the past few days. Had Riley always been so self-centered and egotistical? Had her sense of right and wrong always been so skewed? Was Cora right about her, or was it just the wedding making Riley crazy? Skye didn’t know her well enough anymore to decide.

After one last sweep of the bar and grill, Skye joined the women gathered in the lounge. Everyone had arrived, with the exception of Natasha and Jay Jordan. Nick didn’t seem upset by his father’s absence, and, for once, Riley was thrilled by Natasha’s failure to appear.