The Truffle with Weddings Read online

  29

  Richard looked at me then at the bouquets in the box then back at me. "You know how the killer put poison in the chocolates just by looking at the bridesmaids' flowers?"

  "Tell me something," I said. "Were the heart-shaped boxes you ordered custom?"

  He tilted his head at me. "I didn't have time to order the custom boxes, so I went with the heart-shaped boxes they were pushing for Valentine's Day. Why does that matter?"

  "Don't you see? Anyone could have gotten an identical box and carefully poisoned the chocolates without having to steal it from Marcie's office. That was one of my big stumbling points. The box was seen on her desk from the time you delivered it until she gave it to her assistant."

  Mack snapped his fingers. "But if someone got an identical box and did all the poisoning ahead of time, they'd only have to switch out the box."

  Richard put one hand on his hip and tapped his toe on the carpet. "But my boxes had a personalized tag."

  "Which they could have easily slipped off and onto the new box without being noticed," I said. "Someone saw you deliver the chocolates, saw the name of the chocolatier on the top, bought an identical box, poisoned it, and switched it out later."

  Richard gave me a sideways glance. "That seems like a lot of effort."

  "Not if you'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity," I said.

  Mack stroked his goatee. "So it had to be someone at Capital Weddings."

  This didn't help Cassandra's case any. "Or someone who visited Capital Weddings anytime after you did." I didn't want to discount the possibility of another suspect, although the redhead had the best combination of motive and opportunity.

  "So how can we know if your theory is right?" Mack asked.

  Richard held out his phone. "I'll call the team over at Fleurir. After I placed such a huge order, they adore me."

  "Even after you were the reason they were named in the paper connected to a poisoned chocolate death?" I asked.

  Richard hesitated then shook his head. "Even then. Money talks, darling."

  He took a few steps away from us as he pressed the phone to his ear, nodding as Kate passed him on her way toward me.

  "How did it go with Maxwell?" I asked Kate once she'd reached me.

  She put her hands on her hips. "Room shots and close-ups of the ceremony and cocktail areas are done. I checked them off the list as he went.”

  "He must have loved that."

  We made it a rule not to micromanage our vendors on the wedding day with the theory that no one did their best work that way. In this case, however, there was the possibility that Maxwell might take out his ire at us on the bride and her wedding photos. Even if Amelia had driven us crazy, there was no way we were going to let that happen.

  "I even made him show me some of the images in the view screen just to be sure he wasn't pretending to take the photos," Kate said. "I didn't think that was the case, but you never know."

  "Good thinking." I knew Kate wasn't being neurotic for nothing since we'd hired a photographer once whose big selling point was that she still shot with film. The only problem was she had a limited amount of film, so she only pretended to take some images, and we ended up with missing details and almost no candids.

  "He seems to have gotten over our visit yesterday," Kate said. "He even invited me over to his place for drinks after the wedding."

  "Maxwell never disappoints," I said. "I wonder what he'll think if his latest lady love gets arrested for murder?"

  "You're assuming Cassandra is his only lady love. Maxwell strikes me as a man who multitasks when it comes to dating."

  Kate was one to talk. She had a spreadsheet to manage her upcoming Valentine's Day dates, but I decided not to remind her of this fact.

  "You were right, Annabelle." Richard joined us as he slid his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Someone came in the same day I delivered the chocolates to Marcie and showed them a photo of one of my gift boxes and asked for an identical one."

  Kate held up a palm. "Wait, what?"

  "Annabelle came up with a theory that the killer got an identical box of chocolates and poisoned that one instead of the one he delivered," Mack said.

  "Our biggest issue with this case seemed to be how the killer poisoned the chocolates after they arrived at the magazine when no one noticed them leaving Marcie's desk," I explained.

  "So a decoy box?" Kate nodded slowly. "Pretty clever."

  "I called the chocolatier and happened to talk with the clerk who waited on the woman who wanted an exact copy," Richard said.

  "It was a woman?" I asked. "Was the clerk sure?"

  "He seemed sure," Richard said. "He told me he didn't get a good look at her because she wore a long coat with the collar flipped up and both a scarf and knit hat."

  Kate leaned on Mack's arm as she stepped out of her black heels. "And he didn't think that was suspicious?"

  "Not since it was freezing outside," Richard said. "And before you ask, the woman paid in cash."

  "Of course she did," I muttered. "At least we've eliminated Marcie's ex and Maxwell."

  "Which leaves us with Cassandra," Kate said.

  "There's still Brianna," I argued, although I knew our nemesis was more of a wishful thinking suspect than anything else.

  "Let's hope your crackerjack detective boyfriend can get a confession out of her," Richard said. "You did say he was going to talk to her today, right?"

  I nodded. "He doesn't know about the copycat chocolates though. Maybe I should call him and let him know. It's information that could be helpful during an interrogation."

  Richard whipped out his phone so fast it made me think of a quick draw gunman in the Old West. "I'll do it. I'm the one who talked to the clerk, so I can give him the most accurate information."

  "Be my guest." I dropped my phone back into my pocket. "Kate and I need to get the personal flowers delivered and finalize the ceremony setup. Guests should be arriving within half an hour."

  Kate pulled her wedding day schedule out of her pocket. "Divide and conquer? You do the flowers and I'll handle the ceremony?"

  Mack glanced at Richard pacing as he talked on the phone a few feet away. "I can help you carry the flower boxes up to the bride's suite."

  Buster joined us. "When do you want the escort card display out in the foyer?"

  "Not until after the ceremony," I said, eyeing the elaborate Lucite heart jammed with clear arrows. "I know they're only plastic, but I don't want people armed with arrows too early in the evening."

  Mack's eyes widened. "We didn't think of that. You don't think this is a liability, do you?"

  Kate stepped back into her shoes and winced. "Speaking as someone who's attended more than my fair share of weddings where there was a serious injury or death, I don't think the fake plastic arrows are the most deadly thing here."

  That made Mack's face look even more alarmed as he looked around the ballroom, no doubt wondering what could be more dangerous. Since we'd run into corpses at more than a few weddings, Kate and I had begun including potential methods of murder in our event troubleshooting plans. Even though we'd thought of at least a hundred ways to kill someone with items at a wedding, I suspected we'd only scratched the surface.

  "Don't terrify the creatives," I said to Kate. "And don't forget that the ceremony programs are stashed in the vendor room under my coat."

  She gave me a thumbs-up.

  I picked up the lighter of the two boxes and balanced it on one hip. "Another visit to the bridal suite will give me a chance to make sure Fern hasn't gone off the rails again with the hair. I don't know if I can handle any more surprises."

  "Then you won't like this," Richard said, his face somber as he rejoined us. "The murder suspect Reese went to talk to?"

  "Cassandra?" Kate asked.

  Richard took a deep and dramatic breath. "She's missing."

  30

  "Tell me again," I said as Mack and I led the way down the corridor to the bride
's suite with Richard hurrying behind us. "What exactly did Reese say?"

  Richard let out an impatient breath. "I told you already. He went to this Cassandra woman's apartment and she was gone, and her roommate said she'd packed her things and left in the middle of the night."

  "That doesn't sound normal." Mack shifted the flower box he held high on one shoulder.

  "No, it doesn't," I agreed. "It sounds like something a guilty person does."

  "Or a scared one," Mack said.

  "Scared of being arrested maybe." Richard took one end of the flower box I carried. "She must have known things weren't looking good for her when you and Kate caught her with Maxwell."

  I paused in front of the slightly ajar door to the bridal suite. "Did Reese say anything else?"

  Richard cocked an eyebrow at me. "You mean did he whisper sweet nothings in my ear for me to pass along to you? No."

  "That's not what I meant and you know it." I let go of my side of the box, and Richard struggled to keep it from falling as I pushed open the door and led the way into the suite.

  "Flower delivery," Mack called out, making his usually gravelly voice almost melodic.

  Several bridesmaids rushed out of the bedroom, and I was pleased to note they were fully dressed and their hair was done up in classic French twists. The only flourish Fern had allowed himself was what appeared to be rubies tucked into the hair, which actually made a pretty contrast with the pink chiffon floor-length dresses.

  Mack lifted the lid off his box and began pulling out bouquets, toweling off the stems at the bottom, and calling out names. The girls ooh-ed and ah-ed as they were handed their bouquets and saw the silver charms dangling from the pink satin ribbon wrapped around the stems.

  Richard lowered his box onto the couch and shot me a look, which I made a point of ignoring.

  "How's the bride?" I called out to Fern, hearing him fussing over her in the next room.

  His head appeared in the doorway, and I noticed there were now tiny rubies decorating his man bun as well. "Wait for it." He disappeared into the bedroom again, and moments later Amelia walked into the living room.

  The bridesmaids all ooh-ed and ahh-ed some more. I remembered the gown from the final fitting--a blush pink tulle skirt that belled out with a wide black bow trailing down the back and an appropriately named sweetheart neckline with long tulle sleeves. A dramatic look for a DC bride, but a welcome change from some of the simple to the point of bland gowns I'd seen.

  My eyes went to her blond hair, and I let out an audible sigh of relief when I saw it arranged in a loose bun of soft curls at the base of her neck. I decided not to comment on the glittering rubies tucked into the curls and arranged in the shape of a heart. Compared to the other possibilities, this was positively subtle.

  "You look gorgeous," I told Amelia, giving her a mostly-air hug.

  Richard handed her the heart-shaped bouquet. "Stunning, darling."

  Amelia looked confused for a moment, and I suspected she was trying to figure out who he was and why he was handing out bouquets.

  "He's with me," I said. "This wedding is so important to us we added extra staff."

  That seemed to make her happy and she beamed at Richard, who muttered something under his breath about me not being able to afford him.

  "I can't wait for you to see everything downstairs," I said, gathering up her long train.

  Her smile faded. "Is it time?"

  "It's time to move you all downstairs to the holding room," I said. "The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes."

  Amelia began to breathe quickly. "I can't believe it's here. We've been planning for so long." She grabbed one of my hands. "I don't know if I'm ready."

  I recognized the panic in her eyes and took both of her hands in mine, speaking in my most soothing voice. "Of course you are. You're marrying a great guy. You look beautiful. You're surrounded by all your friends. It's going to be perfect." I gave her hands a squeeze. "You have nothing to worry about. I'll be with you the entire time."

  She nodded and managed a weak smile. "Okay, let's do this."

  Fern bustled up, his arms filled with the veil and what looked like small angel wings. "I'll add the veil to your hair right before you walk, sweetie." He pivoted to face the bridesmaids. "Alright, tramps. Follow me."

  Mack looked at me, and I remembered that he'd rarely seen Fern in action with the bridal party, which meant he wasn't used to the risqué nicknames. I'd been equally horrified the first time I'd heard Fern talking to bridesmaids until I'd realized that the women thought it was hilarious. Somehow Fern's trash talk cut the wedding day tension and last-minute jitters.

  Fern took his place at the front of the procession, waving a hand behind him. "Annabelle, you bring the blond tart."

  Amelia giggled, and Mack gasped.

  I passed off the train to Richard who spluttered behind the mass of tulle but followed behind the bride as I held her hand all the way to the elevator.

  When we'd managed to jam everyone--including Mack--into the elevator car, Fern began giving last-minute instructions to the bridal party.

  "Remember, girls. When you walk down the aisle, it's boobs out and bouquets held below your waist by your--"

  "Why don't we wait until we're lined up?" I suggested as the door pinged open.

  Fern shrugged, thrusting his hand with the can of hair spray high as he led the row of bridesmaids out of the elevator and toward the meeting room where they'd be waiting until all the guests were seated. "This way, hussies."

  I was glad there were no guests nearby to hear him, although I did notice a few guests walking into the ceremony and one potential wedding guest in a coat trying to look into the reception ballroom. I hated guests trying to get sneak peeks before the rooms were ready, so as soon as I got the bride settled, I'd deal with the interloper.

  Once we were in the meeting room, I handed Amelia off to Fern, who immediately began fussing with her hair and unfurling the veil. I noticed the flower girls in feathery white dresses standing with women I assumed were their mothers.

  "You didn't say there'd be children," Richard whispered in my ear.

  "Didn't you hear us talking about the cupids? Well, those are the cupids."

  Richard backed out of the room, his eyes not leaving the little girls.

  "Oh, for heaven's sake," I called after him. "They're three-year-olds, not rabid dogs."

  "Then you don't know three-year-olds," Richard said.

  "I'll be back to get you all in a few minutes," I told Fern as I slipped out the door and waved at Richard to follow me into the ceremony room.

  "I must say, Annabelle," he said as we stepped into the small ballroom. "You managed to calm that bride down with just a few words. I felt sure she was about to burst into tears."

  "Practice. I'm used to calming down hysterical people."

  He pressed a hand to his chest. "I hope you aren't referencing me, darling."

  "Of course not," I said, and I could tell he didn't know whether I was being serious or not.

  "Programs are down, lights are tested, string quartet is all set up," Kate said, joining us at the back of the ballroom as I eyeballed the rows of powder-pink chairs stretching in front of us. Heart-shaped programs sat on each chair with paper cones filled with red rose petals tied to the backs of them. I recognized the instrumental version of "My Funny Valentine" and flashed back to the hours Kate and I had spent coming up with love-themed songs for the ceremony prelude music.

  "Good work," I said as I took in the altar area.

  Buster and Mack had designed an impressive ceremony arch groaning under the masses of pink roses and white hydrangea. A curtain of orchids strung on translucent wire created the backdrop, with a crystal chandelier hanging from the middle of the canopy.

  "You don't think you're hammering this Valentine's Day theme a little hard?" Richard asked.

  "It's not us," Kate said. "You know Annabelle and I don't go in for themes. Annabelle hasn't even celebrated Vale
ntine's Day in three years."

  "Thank you, Kate."

  "Anytime," she said, not picking up on my sarcasm. "Although this year she has a hot boyfriend, so who knows what she'll be doing tomorrow?"

  "This is not the time to talk about my Valentine's Day plans," I said, hoping my blush was hidden by the room's dim lighting. "We have a bride to get down the aisle."

  Kate pulled out her schedule and flipped a page. "The groom and groomsmen are ready. I pinned on the boutonnières and made sure the best man has the rings."

  "Please tell me the men aren't wearing pink tuxedos," Richard said.

  "Black," Kate told him. "Ralph Lauren single breasted three button."

  Richard gave a small shrug. "Acceptable."

  "With boutonnieres of pink-and-red tea roses backed with heart-shaped leaves," she added.

  Richard made a face. "Unacceptable."

  I smiled at a pair of arriving guests and pulled Kate and Richard further away from the entrance. "It's a little late to redo the look. Why don't you two corral all the guests into seats while I help Fern with the cupids?”

  We walked out of the ceremony room and split up. I gave the foyer area a cursory glance for guests trying to sneak into the reception ballroom but didn't see anyone.

  "Annabelle!"

  I turned to see Sidney Allen rushing up to me. His face was mottled pink, and his temple beaded with sweat as he tried to keep his headset from slipping down. He hiked his black suit pants up around his armpits when he reached me.

  "Is everything okay?" I asked. Although the entertainment designer was known for being a bit of a control freak and a diva--not unusual character traits in my business--I'd never seen him so wound up on a job before.

  "This is a travesty." His words came out in staccato bursts as he gasped for breath between them. "My number one dove team called in sick. Bird flu. Can you believe it?"

  I actually couldn't. "I don't think birds get the flu, do they?"

  He swiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. "Who knows? The handler had them cough into the phone on the message, but I don't think it was the birds at all. I think he was faking. Anyway, I've had to call in my second-string doves."