Newlywed Dead (11 page)

“Sounds great,” I said. “You are the best.” I stood and gave Toby a hug. “I've got to go. It was nice catching up. I'm really looking forward to talking at lunch tomorrow.”

“Meet me there at noon,” he said. “You can ensure I'm impeccably groomed and I can have lunch with a beautiful woman. We both win.”

“See you, Toby,” I said, and walked out to my car. The frozen wind had died down a bit. The sky was dark early. Frankly, I hated the time of year when it was dark early. The only good thing about winter was the fact that the cold made the sky very clear. Which meant you could see a few stars peeking through the city lamp light. It was a beautiful evening.

I got into my car and pointed it toward home. It had been a busy day. Tomorrow would be even busier, now that I'd added investigating Ashley's death to my to-do list. I felt as if I owed it to her to look into the mysterious
circumstances behind her death. After all, she had been kind to me and I was a perfect stranger. Someone like that didn't deserve the label of addict who overdosed. Especially if that's not what really happened.

*   *   *

“Why all the phone calls?” Gage asked from his perch on my living room couch. He had come over to cook me dinner and spend time with me. I had enjoyed his famous beef stew, but then had excused myself to do a little work.

“The usual,” I said and flopped down on the couch beside him. “Leaving messages for venues and flowers and caterers.”

“I wouldn't have guessed that the evenings were a good time to get ahold of businesses.”

“Actually, it's a good time to leave messages. Sometimes I get ahold of the real person because they are working late trying to catch up and the daytime staff has left.”

“So there are no gatekeepers telling you the person you want is in a meeting.”

“Exactly,” I said and rested my head on his broad shoulder. “Detective Murphy called me today. He said that the autopsy results proved that Ashley died of an overdose of Xanax and alcohol.”

“That's terrible,” Gage said.

“I agree,” I said, and rested my head on his wide shoulder. “She didn't seem the type. Detective Murphy confirmed that she didn't have a prescription for Xanax, so she
had to have gotten the pills illegally.” I sat up and turned my body toward Gage. “But I'm telling you that I had a few conversations with her that night. She was not stoned. She looked very sober.”

“Was she drinking?” Gage asked. “Maybe she was an alcoholic. Sometimes you get high-functioning ones who appear to be sober the entire time they are swallowing two six-packs of beer.”

I winced. “She did take a few sips of the cocktails she was creating for me to taste.”

“I know you want to think the best of this person,” Gage said and patted my knee. “But she might just be what the report says. You can't tell anything about people by simply talking to them a few times. Think of all the people who get scammed every day.”

I slumped back down and grabbed a couch pillow and hugged it. “I'm a good judge of people.”

“You are,” he said. “But this situation may be more of a reflection on how you see the world than how the world really is. That's what I like about you, Pepper. You believe the best in people.”

“Yes, until proven otherwise, I do,” I said. “I feel strongly about this, Gage. I'm going to do some digging. I talked Toby into taking me to the country club for lunch tomorrow. I thought we'd work on his social skills and perhaps how to meet the perfect girl for him.”

“He isn't going to meet anyone with you there,” Gage said, and raised his hand to stop me before I could speak.
“Not because you can't coach him, but because that man is half in love with you. You will be the only woman he sees there. I know. I have the same problem.”

“Oooh,” I said, and planted a tender kiss on Gage's mouth. “That is so sweet.”

“But you're going, aren't you?”

“Of course, I'm going,” I said, and snuggled in beside Gage. “Toby needs my help. You should have seen the prospect he brought me to check out for him. It was an Internet scammer. There's no way I'm going to leave Toby to his own devices. I'm going to lunch at the country club.”

Gage put his arm around me and gathered me to his chest. “It doesn't hurt that you may run into some of the people from the reception, does it?”

I shrugged and didn't bother to hide the rising blush. “If I run into someone from the reception and the topic comes up, I won't shy away from asking them their opinion on the matter.”

He squeezed me closer and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “You wouldn't be my Pepper if you didn't.”

The next morning I called Jen to suggest the idea of tagging along to see how the other proposal events go. “Hi, Jen. So, I had an idea last night.”

“What's your idea?” Her voice was strong over my cell phone. I sat in my living room and looked out the window at the mailman delivering the mail. He wore a long, heavy coat, a warm postman hat with ear flaps, and gloves. It was another cold, clear day, but there were predictions of snow in the future.

“How do you feel about accompanying me to a couple of proposal events? You can view firsthand what I do and I can get a better idea of what you like and don't like.”

“Huh,” she said. “Can I do that?”

“Sure.”

“What about the person paying you? Will they be okay with that?”

“I'll tell them you are my assistant. They'll let you in.”

“Okay, I'm in,” she said, her voice brightening. “It will be fun to see up close if you surprise them or not.”

“Great,” I said, and tried to remain cheerful and not feel insulted by her skepticism. “I have a proposal planned for Saturday morning. It's at the F.A.O. Schwarz, but I think you'll see that it doesn't have to have a lot of flash to be classy, sweet, and perfect for the couple. I'll e-mail you the details.”

“Fine, Saturday it is,” she said.

I made notes on my laptop. “One more thing,” I said. “It's about Ashley.”

“The bartender?”

“You remember talking to her at all?”

“I remember she was good at making mojitos,” she said. “I had my fair share of those that night. Weddings make me a little crazy.”

“I remember,” I said. “Did you talk to her?”

“No, Brad got most of our drinks. No, wait, I did pick up one or two rounds, I think,” she said. “It's kind of a blur. Your sister was beautiful. I remember that part, and also how much she and Warren glowed with love.”

“Yeah, they really had that in-love glow, didn't they?” I asked. “So when you did order from Ashley, did you think she was high when she served you?”

“Let me think,” Jen said, and paused for a second. “Honestly, I can't remember. But if she was, I think I would have noticed.”

“Do you know if anyone saw her taking drugs?”

“What? No, no, I didn't hear that rumor. I'm usually tuned in to the gossip after these events, and that would have been something people talked about,” Jen said.

“Do you know if anyone had a grievance against her?”

“What, for her bad haircut?” Jen said, and snickered into the phone. “No, like I said, we barely knew the girl. I think this was her first time bartending at the club. So are we good? You'll send me the details for Saturday morning?”

“We're good,” I said. “I've sent you the e-mail just now. See you then, if not before.”

“Super.” Jen hung up.

I called Brad to let him know that I asked Jen to tag along. “You can come as well, if you'd like to see how I work.”

“I suppose I'll come, but frankly, I'm not that interested,” Brad said with a low chuckle. “What I'm interested in seeing is how you pull this off.”

“If anyone can do it, it's me,” I said with more bravado than I felt. “Quick question, though. Do you remember that bartender, Ashley?”

“The girl who died?”

“Jen says she made you mojitos at the wedding. Do you remember if she seemed to be acting strangely at all?

“No, I don't remember her acting strangely. In fact, I don't really remember anything about her at all. Why do you ask?”

“The police think she died of an overdose by mixing Xanax and alcohol,” I said. “It's sad.”

“Yes, very sad,” Brad said. “I understand you have to be really careful when you're taking those kinds of drugs.”

“Yes, I guess you do,” I said. “She didn't seem like she was drunk or drugged to you?”

“Like I said, I don't remember. I doubt I would have even noticed unless the drinks tasted odd or she was moving slow or something. She seemed okay with the service,” he said. “I went back to her because she put the right amount of alcohol in the drinks. You know? Some bartenders put in too little. The drinks always looked nice. Like she cared.”

“Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”

“No,” he said. “Why? Do the cops think she was murdered?”

“No,” I said. “They have closed the case as an accidental overdose. I was simply wondering who stood to gain from her death.”

“I doubt it was anyone at the wedding,” Brad said. “She didn't look like a person that ran in our circles. I remember thinking she could be a looker if she took better care of herself. Seems to me the cops have it right on this one. “

“Thanks,” I said. We hung up with my promising to take pictures of Jen working at the event on Saturday. Brad seemed to think he and Jen tagging along would be more work than it was worth. I didn't tell him yet that I would plan his surprise to be one of my events. Now all I had to do was figure out which one.

I called Sherry to ask her permission for Jen to attend her proposal. “She doesn't believe that people can really be surprised,” I said. “I'd like her to see firsthand how wonderful the perfect proposal can be, but not at the expense of your event.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Sherry said. “The more the merrier!”

“Wonderful! I'm glad it's okay with you,” I said. “I was able to get the Macy's tearoom and I'm planning to cater a gorgeous brunch. I've sent you pictures of decorations and two cakes for you to choose from. I think this is going to be a great proposal.”

“I'm getting so excited.”

“Oh, one more thing . . . The Rockettes are in Chicago for their traveling show this week. I know a guy who's got connections in the Chicago theater scene. I may be able to get them to come and do a routine to ‘Dance of the Toy Soldiers' right before you propose. What do you think?”

“Oh, my gosh!” Sherry sounded excited. “That would be awesome.”

“It could be pretty pricey, but it is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” I said.

“My dad will pay,” she said. “Whatever it costs. That would be so cool.”

“Great,” I said. “I'll let you know if it's a go. See you Saturday. Don't forget the ring.”

“Oh, I won't,” she said. “William is going to be so surprised. His mom and dad are helping me. We have a plan on getting him there.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Also, I need you to send me the list of people you want at the brunch. I'll send out super-secret Evites today.”

She squealed. “I'm so excited.”

I laughed. “Sounds like it. I'll talk with you soon.”

I hung up and made a few notes. I called Gage.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. “What's up?”

“Hi, I have a client who wants to have a toy-store-proposal event. I see the Rockettes are in town this week for their Christmas show. Do you think I could hire them to come in and do a dance number?”

“Hmmm, I know the stage manager. I'll get you his number,” Gage said. “It's going to be expensive.”

“Money's no object,” I said.

“Timing might be an issue if they have a matinee,” he said.

“Oh, right, I'll remember to factor that in.”

“You might be able to get a couple of the understudies,” he said thoughtfully. “Would that work?”

“Yes,” I said, excited by my idea. “Thank you, Gage! You're the best.”

“I know,” he said with a chuckle. “That's why you love me.”

I took the stage manager's name and number and gave him a call. It took an hour but he got back to me. They could do it. I would only get six dancers, but they would come in costume and perform one number. I excitedly approved the price with Sherry and faxed some paperwork over to the stage manager.

One small dance number at F.A.O. Schwarz at ten
A.M.
on Saturday. Done. I was on a roll. Next up, I needed to call Laura and see if she was okay with Brad and Jen attending her proposal.

“Hi, Laura,” I said when she answered the phone. “This is Pepper Pomeroy. Listen, I have a client who needs to see a couple of proposals before she'll commit to one of her own. Can I include her and her boyfriend in your event? They can be stand-ins.”

There was a long moment of silence. “I'm not sure. You know I want things to be low-key.”

“I'm putting together a cooking class idea, remember? They could be one of the other couples at the class. There has to be a full class or it won't feel authentic. Trust me, Monica won't know the others are in on it. The other couples have been told to treat it like any cooking class date night.” I paused for a heartbeat. “It will help her to be more comfortable for her proposal.”

“Oh . . . okay, then,” Laura agreed reluctantly. “If somehow my event can help her event, then I'm okay with it.”

“Thanks for letting me bring Jen and her boyfriend to your proposal. I promise it will all go off as planned.”

“I'm counting on you, Pepper. I'm really nervous. You only get one chance at proposing to the woman you love, you know? I don't want anything to ruin it.”

“It won't. My business is named Perfect Proposals for a reason. I guarantee it.”

*   *   *

I met Toby at the country club at noon. The parking lot was full. The valet took Old Blue and hurried away with it. I tried not to think of the incongruity of my big ancient
Buick at a ritzy country club. Toby waited for me near the entrance. He cleaned up well when he put effort into it. It was pretty clear he'd taken my advice. His hair was neatly trimmed and I swear there was product in it. His face was clean-shaven. His suit was clearly Armani, but the expensive dress shirt underneath held a hint of the wrinkles that Toby usually dressed with. I was glad to see he hadn't cleaned up too much.

“Hi,” I said, and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “You look nice.”

“I had my assistant make me a salon appointment and pick out the clothes,” he said, and ran his finger around his collar. “I thought when you earned enough money you didn't have to wear a tie anymore. Unless you were negotiating venture capital.”

I smiled and patted his cheek as he opened the door for me. “Think of this as a venture opportunity that might establish the foundation for your future family.”

He nodded. “As I've indicated in the past, the only reason to marry is to leverage fortunes for your children and their children to come.”

“So romantic,” I muttered as the hostess asked for the name.

“Toby Mallard. I have a reservation for two,” Toby said.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Mallard, so nice to see you again. We have your table ready for you. This way, please.” The hostess was a tall woman of Eastern European descent. She was thin with high cheekbones and slanted eyes. Her blond hair was piled effortlessly on her head and she wore a
designer white shirt and black wool skirt. Her shoes flashed red on the soles. I wondered who made enough money as a hostess to wear Christian Louboutin shoes. “As per your standing order, this is our finest lunch table,” she said, and waited for Toby and me to sit. I paused for a moment to see if Toby would pull out my chair. He didn't even notice and sat down immediately, grabbed his napkin off the table and stuffed it in his shirt collar like a bib.

I sat and tried not to look the hostess in the eye. She didn't seem to blink as she handed us our menus.

“Alexander will be your waiter today,” she said. “Bon appétit.”

“The last time I was here, the service was fine but the meal was a bit goopy,” Toby said from behind his menu.

“I assure you sir, the cook would not serve you anything goopy,” the waiter said as he reached our table in time for Toby's comments.

“Yes, well, we'll see about that, won't we?” Toby said, and lowered the menu long enough to look the waiter in the eye.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Mallard, I didn't realize you were our guest today. Welcome back. Can I get you something to drink?” the waiter asked, appearing contrite once he realized who he was serving. “We have sparkling water, iced tea, and, of course, several wines and cocktails.”

“We'll take a bottle of sparkling water,” Toby said. “Then I want iced tea. Pepper?”

“I'll take an iced tea as well,” I said. The waiter turned on his heel and left. “Toby, did you ever take a business etiquette class?”

“Yes,” he said, his gaze on the menu. “Of course, I do business with many foreign investors. I didn't want to offend. So I read several books on proper etiquette.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered.

“The waiter should know better than to contradict a patron. Especially a patron he should know will leave a big tip.”

The waiter arrived with a bottle of sparkling water and poured both glasses. Then he explained the lunch specials. I ordered a simple steak salad and Toby ordered prime rib. When the waiter left, I smiled at Toby. “It might not hurt to take a refresher course,” I said gently. “A woman of the stature you are looking for has certain expectations when it comes to the man she dates.”