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I gaped at her. “Before my car got burned to a crisp.”

  “You think that had to do with us poking around in the case?”

  I nodded vigorously. “Yes. Either that or it’s the world’s biggest coincidence. Regardless, I don’t want to take the chance that whoever torched my car will do something even worse.”

  “So you’re just going to let the police suspect us of the murder even when we had nothing to do with it?”

  “We’re ‘persons of interest,’” I corrected her. “Not suspects.”

  “That’s very comforting. I just hope they make you work the fryer when Wedding Belles has to close its doors and we’re forced to work at McDonald’s. The heat would be murder on my hair.”

  Richard’s drama was definitely wearing off on Kate.

  “We’re not going to have to sling burgers,” I said. “But I’m done trying to solve this on our own. It’s not worth the risks.”

  “Annabelle, you know you have to break a few legs to make an omelet.”

  I rubbed my temples. “God, I hope not, but the way things are going today . . .”

  My phone vibrated, and I took it out of my pocket, glancing at the text message that popped up and fighting the urge to scream. “You have got to be kidding me. Leatrice went back to get her car on her own and spotted lights on in Effing Frank’s house.” I grabbed Kate’s purse from the floor. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Where are we going? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the case anymore.”

  I opened my front door. “I don’t. We’re going to drag Leatrice back here before she tries to make a citizen’s arrest and gets herself killed.”

  Chapter 36

  “Leatrice,” I hissed into the dark.

  Kate and I had arrived on the quiet street to find Leatrice’s car empty. Against my strong objections, Kate had parked in front of a fire hydrant, reasoning that we’d only be a few minutes. Now we found ourselves walking along the sidewalk in front of the houses, peering into bushes, and trying to find Leatrice without attracting too much attention. I almost wished I had Fern’s black catsuit so I could blend into the night.

  “Over here.” The voice came from behind a bushy tree in front of Tricia and Dave’s yellow house, which looked abandoned in the dark.

  I crept to where Leatrice sat hunched behind a branch, and Kate followed me. “What are you doing?”

  Leatrice pointed to the house next door. “This gives me a good view without being noticed.”

  I looked up at the light spilling from the downstairs windows of Frank Ferguson’s house. Since none of the shades had been pulled down all the way, I could see a pair of legs moving around inside.

  “Maybe the person inside that house won’t notice you,” Kate whispered. “But what about people walking by on the street?”

  I could only imagine what a homeowner across the street would think if they looked out their window and saw three women crouching behind a bush, one of them in a trench coat and fedora. We would be lucky not to get shot.

  Leatrice ignored Kate’s comment. “Effing Frank must have a garage in the back because the lights went on a few minutes after I arrived, and I didn’t see anyone go in through the front door.”

  “I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to watch him anymore,” I said.

  “I wasn’t. I was in the process of moving my car when I noticed the lights. I called you right away.”

  “I appreciate you calling me, but we should leave,” I said.

  “What?” Leatrice’s voice rose above a whisper. “But we can’t leave now. The suspect just arrived. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

  “Not me.” I shook my head. “Not anymore. I told you. I’m done with this case.”

  “But, Annabelle,” Leatrice began.

  “I’m serious.” I waved my arms. “No more investigation. No more.”

  Leatrice studied my expression. “Your arms say no, but your eyes say yes.”

  “My eyes are not saying yes. They’re still bloodshot from the smoke of my incinerated car.”

  “Good luck talking her out of it, Leatrice,” Kate said. “I already tried. She doesn’t care that we might go to jail or end up asking people if they’d like to supersize their meal.”

  I let out a breath. “Of course I care, but poking around in this case hasn’t helped us. It’s made things worse. We shouldn’t waste another second thinking about Terrible Tricia or her murder. We hated her. Almost everyone who met her hated her. Effing Frank hated her. She’s dead. Her mother’s dead. My car went up in flames. I think that’s enough for me.”

  “Even if our business gets completely destroyed before the police clear us?” Kate held up her phone and the brightness of the screen blinded me for a moment.

  The headline read, “Local Wedding Planners Involved in Arson.”

  I snatched the phone from her hands. “Involved in? How about ‘were victims of’? Who wrote this hit piece?”

  Kate shook her head. “It’s one of those gossip sites that gets about half the facts right but prints the lies in bold and the retractions in small print.”

  I handed Kate back her phone and dropped my head in my hands. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.”

  Kate tapped away at her phone then slipped it into her purse. “I’m not saying we go full-force investigation, but why don’t we pass this info to Detective Reese?”

  “That Effing Frank is in his house? Fine, but that’s not much of a windfall clue.”

  “We can tell him more than that,” Leatrice said.

  Kate pivoted on her heels toward her. “What do you mean?”

  “That’s what I forgot to tell you earlier, girls.” Leatrice said. “This is who I was researching on LinkedIn. Effing Frank works security for Cogent Technologies.”

  Chapter 37

  “This is huge,” I said for the tenth time since Leatrice dropped the bombshell on us.

  We’d moved from underneath the tree to the sidewalk next to Leatrice’s car to wait for Detective Reese to arrive. I’d successfully argued that it wouldn’t look great for us to be hiding in someone’s front yard when the police drove up, although even relocated to the sidewalk we’d gotten some curious glances from people walking dogs. Leatrice’s trench coat and fedora combo did not help.

  Kate leaned against the yellow Ford Fairmont, her bare legs stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles. I was impressed that her legs weren’t covered in goose bumps considering that the evening temperature had dropped a few degrees since we’d arrived and she hadn’t changed out of the short pink sleeveless dress from earlier in the day. Then again, Kate was used to having more of her legs and arms exposed than I was.

  “So he could have sent the threatening email to Tricia and Dave,” she said.

  “Who else?” I asked. “No other suspect has any connection to the building.”

  “That means he planned to kill them.” Leatrice looked up at me from under her fedora. “First-degree murder.”

  I shivered from both the nip in the air and the thought of Tricia and Dave’s neighbor plotting to kill them because of a feud that started over political yard signs. If everyone started shooting each other over political opinions, DC would become a war zone.

  “What about the mother’s death?” Kate asked. “It doesn’t make sense that this guy pushed her off the hotel roof if he shot Tricia and Dave because of a personal feud.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe she jumped after all.”

  Kate raised an eyebrow at me. “Do you really believe that?”

  “We’re still missing the connection,” Leatrice said.

  “Maybe not,” I said as a police cruiser turned onto the block followed by an unmarked car. “Sometimes things don’t get wrapped up with a perfect bow. Anyway, that’s what Detective Reese can figure out.”

  Leatrice’s frown told me she wasn’t happy with my answer.

  Both cars rolled to a stop in front of us. Det
ective Reese stepped out, leaving his partner in the driver’s side as he approached us.

  “I think it’s pretty clear that you can’t get enough of me,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes, and Leatrice giggled.

  “I expected another lecture about not meddling,” I said.

  “I’m saving that for your friend here,” he motioned to Leatrice with his head and she ducked her eyes beneath her fedora. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed that her car has been sitting in front of this house for nearly two days, mostly with her in it.”

  So much for her covert operation. Leatrice shuffled her feet and didn’t look up.

  “I guess I should be grateful that you called us,” Reese said. “And that no one from our department had to sit out here in a car for so long.”

  “I’m sure we could think of some ways you could thank us,” Kate said. “Any ideas, Annabelle?”

  If I could have reached her skinny leg from where I stood, I would have kicked her. Instead, I had to settle for shooting daggers at her with my eyes.

  Two uniformed police officers came up behind Reese so Kate, Leatrice, and I stepped back as he led them up the steps of the porch and knocked on the door of Frank Ferguson’s house. After a moment, the porch lights switched on and the front door opened.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be in the line of sight,” I said, tugging Kate and Leatrice by the arm down the sidewalk.

  Once we were half a block away, Leatrice sighed. “Now I can’t see a thing.”

  “Do you really want a guy who may have shot his neighbors in cold blood to get a good look at you?” I asked.

  Kate craned her neck to see through the tree we’d been hiding behind earlier. “Did they go inside his house?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Leatrice wrung her hands. “Maybe we should move closer in case Effing Frank got the drop on the police and they need help.”

  Before we could debate whether the police needed an assist, the two uniformed officers appeared with the suspect between them. They walked down the stairs and the paved walkway with Detective Rees bringing up the rear. Frank seemed not to be cuffed, so I assumed they hadn’t arrested him and were merely taking him in for questioning.

  When Frank reached the sidewalk, he turned his head for a moment, and I got a look at his face before the cops hustled him into the squad car. I felt a jolt of recognition, and I clutched Kate’s arm.

  “Ouch,” Kate said, pulling her arm away then looking at my face. “What’s wrong, Annabelle?”

  “That’s the man I saw Tricia’s mother meet with at the Hay-Adams Hotel the day she died.”

  Chapter 38

  “Are you sure?” Kate asked, rubbing her arm where I’d squeezed it when I’d recognized Frank.

  The squad car had pulled away with the suspect in the back seat, and I stood on the sidewalk with Leatrice and Kate, staring after it. My heart raced from the shock of realizing that the neighbor who may have murdered Tricia was the same man who met with her mother right before the woman plummeted to her death. I put a clammy hand to my chest and tried to breathe slowly to calm myself.

  “Shouldn’t you tell Reese?” Kate motioned to where the detective stood next to his unmarked car talking through the driver’s side window to his partner.

  “No way.” I kept my voice low. “Then I have to explain that I was eavesdropping on the bride’s mother. He already got upset that I didn’t tell him we knew the mother when he saw us at the Hay-Adams. Can you imagine what he’ll do to me if I tell him I had some potential evidence that I hid from him?”

  “Throw you in jail for obstructing justice?” Leatrice asked.

  Kate gave her a look. “He is not going to arrest Annabelle. But don’t you think keeping this from him is a big deal?”

  “Why?” I said. “They already have him in custody. We don’t know that his meeting with Mrs. Toker is in any way connected to Tricia’s death. Plus, I saw him leave the hotel before she fell off the roof.”

  Kate frowned. “But we still don’t know why he was meeting Tricia’s mom.”

  He did work for Cogent Technologies,” Leatrice said. “That’s the family company, right?”

  “From what I overheard, it sounded like he’d been working for Mrs. Toker. Maybe as part of his job for Cogent,” I said.

  “Then why wouldn’t they meet at the headquarters?” Kate asked. “Why meet secretly in a hotel ballroom?”

  “You know our rich clients, Kate. They don’t lift a finger if they don’t have to. How many times have we met clients at their homes or at their country clubs because they don’t want to come into the city?”

  Kate shrugged an acknowledgement. “True. I’m sure the mom didn’t want to leave the hotel if they were still comping her room.” She snapped her fingers. “What if Mrs. Toker and Frank met through the company, at a holiday party or something, and they were having an affair. Maybe what you heard was the end of an affair.”

  I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Kate to make every situation into a sex scandal. “Trust me. It was not the end of an affair.”

  Leatrice cleared her throat loudly as Reese approached us.

  “I’m headed back to the station to interview this guy and process the paperwork.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Thanks again for calling us.”

  “Anytime, Detective.” Leatrice bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

  He gave a weary grin before turning away from us. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  We watched the detective get in his car and drive away. Leatrice tucked her fedora under her arm and pulled her car keys out of the pocket of her trench coat. “I think we can call this stakeout a success.”

  I patted Leatrice on the shoulder. “The most likely suspect is now in custody. All thanks to you.”

  “I’m glad I could help, dear.”

  So, wait,” Kate said. “Did we just help solve another murder?”

  “Maybe.” I turned toward Kate’s car. “The clues seem to point to Frank. He had motive, opportunity, and access to a gun. Who else could have done it?”

  Kate started walking down the sidewalk. “I guess you’re right. But it doesn’t feel as satisfying as the other cases.”

  I agreed. Even though we’d seen the suspect we’d been gathering evidence on taken away by the police, the case had an unfinished feel to it. There were still so many unanswered questions and so many threads we hadn’t connected. I pushed those thoughts out of my head.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “The police have a guy in custody, which means we are officially in the clear.”

  Kate let out a breath. “That’s a relief. No more dark cloud of doom hanging over our business. And now that the word is out that Brianna is actually a madam, people should have plenty else to talk about.”

  I felt my entire body relax, and I rolled my head from side to side, hearing my neck crackle. I knew I’d been tense the past few days, but as my shoulders and back released I realized just how much stress I’d been holding in. “I think I need to go to a spa for a week after this.”

  Leatrice clapped her hands together. “A girls trip. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  The image of soaking in a mud bath with Leatrice flashed into my head. Not my idea of relaxing. “For now I want to go home and crawl in bed and not think about Tricia Toker and her wedding ever again. Actually, I’d like to never think about another bride ever again.”

  “Until our next wedding in a week,” Kate said.

  At least that bride is sweet. No nasty reviews from her.”

  “And no murders?” Leatrice looked disappointed.

  “Definitely no murders,” I said. “From now on, our weddings are going to have zero drama.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “Then which one of us is going to tell Richard and Fern they can’t come?”

  Chapter 39

  “Yoo-hoo!” A voice sang out from my living room, and I sat up in bed. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand, looked at the
time, and flopped back on my pillows. It was only ten a.m. I’d barely slept after all the excitement the day before, and I’d hoped to get a few more hours of shut-eye.

  I heard thumping from the front of my apartment and swung my feet over the side of the bed. Knowing Leatrice, she might let a complete stranger inside if they were cute enough and asked nicely. I tugged on a pair of jeans from the floor and grabbed a white Wedding Belles T-shirt from the drawer, noticing as I slipped it over my head that my hair still smelled like smoke from yesterday’s fire. I pulled it up into a high ponytail and hoped no one else would notice the faint scent of charred car emanating from my head.

  I stepped into the hall and heard a familiar voice. “Fern? What are you doing here?” I walked to the front of my apartment to see him and Kate dropping several canvas shopping bags onto my couch. I immediately regretted giving Kate a key.

  He straightened up and rubbed one of his shoulders. His dark hair was slicked back and in a low ponytail, and he wore his version of casual clothes: black flat-front pants paired with a black button-down shirt and accented with a silver Ferragamo belt buckle. “Hair products are heavy.”

  Kate began pawing through the bags, examining bottles of serum and cans of spray. “This should do the trick.”

  “It’s not that I’m not thrilled you both stopped by,” I said. “But what are you doing here?”

  Fern crossed over to me and ran his hands through my hair. “Kate told me about yesterday.” He leaned close and took a whiff of my head and gasped. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  “I know I need to wash it,” I said. “But I was too exhausted to shower last night.”

  “A wash isn’t all you need, girl. When was your last cut?”

  “My last haircut?” To be honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in his salon for a trim. I was notorious for getting caught up in wedding season and forgetting to maintain my hair. That was one of the reasons I wore my hair in a ponytail or a bun most of the time. Easier to hide the fact that I neglected my hair.