Annabelle Archer BoxSet Read online

  “But they’re so practical for working.” I looked down at my “lucky” navy blue suit. “Lucky” because the long jacket covered up the fact that I’d been eating way too much take-out. “And this one is silk.”

  “It’s a blend.” Richard shook his head as he rubbed the fabric of my jacket lapel between his fingers. “If you want to be an A-list wedding planner, then we’re going to have to dress you like one.”

  “Fine. As long as you promise not to go overboard.”

  “When would I ever go overboard?” The spread collar of Richard’s fuchsia and green Versace shirt peeked out from underneath his black four-button suit.

  My eyes darted to his neck, and I cleared my throat.

  “You don’t like the shirt?” Richard extended his arm so I could see the French cuffs. “It looks just darling with my white linen suit. I’d have worn that tonight but I never wear white before Memorial Day.”

  “Thank God for small favors.”

  “Speaking of doing favors, I’m also going to take you to the makeup counter. What’s the use of having great cheekbones if you don’t accentuate them?”

  “I appreciate the flattery, but you know I don’t like to wear lots of makeup.”

  “No kidding.” Richard studied my face. “I’m amazed you look half decent with that drugstore garbage. Imagine how great you’d look if you used a designer line.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “It would be cruel to tease me.” Richard formed his lips into a pout.

  “If there’s any teasing to be done, I should be the one to do it.” My assistant, Kate, came down the staircase behind us, her high heels clicking on each step. Kate always wore heels to weddings to show off her legs and make her look taller. She said you never knew whom you might see at a wedding, and I was pretty sure she didn’t mean old family friends.

  “How’s it going upstairs?” Richard asked. The nearly four hundred guests were being served cocktails on the upper level of the museum, which overlooked the foyer.

  “Well, the sushi chefs almost quit because Mrs. Pierce timed them and took notes on their presentation.”

  “That damn notebook again.” I rubbed my temples with my index fingers. “I can’t believe she actually brought it to her daughter’s wedding.”

  “Have you ever heard of someone making notes each time you do something she doesn’t like?” Kate put a hand on my arm for support as she stepped out of her heels.

  “There are a lot of things I’d never heard of before I became a wedding planner,” I said. “After working for Mrs. Pierce, I’ve seen it all.”

  “Tell me about it.” Kate flicked her short blond hair off her face. I noticed her perfectly painted nails and instinctively hid my hands behind my back. I couldn’t remember the last time I had my nails done. “She finally left the sushi guys alone, and I haven’t seen her harassing anybody else.”

  “Annabelle Archer!” A shrill voice came from above us.

  “I spoke too soon.” Kate fumbled with her shoes as she tried to wedge her feet back in them. We all turned around to greet Mrs. Pierce as she barreled unsteadily down the stairs toward us, a mass of overly bouffant blond hair and turquoise chiffon.

  “Lord have mercy, she’s drunk as a skunk!” Richard scurried out of her way. She plowed past us, pulling me by the sleeve as she went.

  “I have some additional changes to make in the seating.” Her words slurred as she staggered against the tables, craning to read the names on each place card. I averted my eyes at the mass of wrinkled cleavage barely contained by her strapless gown as she leaned over.

  “The invitation clearly said ‘black tie,’ but there are some women here in pants, if you can imagine the nerve.” She cut her eyes to me and appraised my outfit. “Of course it doesn’t matter what you wear because you’re just the help, but I won’t have shabby guests sitting near my table.”

  “You want to change the names around now?” I felt a wave of panic begin to rise as I looked at my watch.

  “Change names?” Mrs. Pierce paused then gave a harsh laugh. “Yes, that’s exactly right. There will be plenty of name changing at this wedding. The ambassador does not go at this seat. . .”

  “But Mrs. Pierce.” I cringed as she knocked a water glass over. “The cocktail hour ends in ten minutes and the guests have already picked up their table cards. I’m sorry, but it’s too late . . .”

  Clara Pierce stopped me with a sharp snap of her fingers and turned to face me. I could feel my face begin to burn. After staring at me for a few seconds, she produced her notebook with a flourish and scrawled my name on the top page.

  “You’ve turned out to be a great disappointment, Miss Archer. We’ll discuss this matter later.” She zigzagged her way back up the staircase.

  “How much longer until it’s all over?” I asked Kate, squeezing my hands into tight fists by my side.

  “Four hours and six minutes, to be exact.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Annie.” Richard patted my arm. “She’s so drunk she probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow morning.”

  Kate punched a fist into her open palm. “I’d love to beat her to death with that tiny notebook of hers.”

  “That would take forever.” I picked up a votive candle that Mrs. Pierce had doused with water and sighed.

  “That’s the whole point, sugar.” Richard winked at me. “Now I’ve got to go check on the kitchen. We’re supposed to invite guests downstairs in five. Are we still on schedule?”

  I managed a smile. “Always.”

  “Good.” Richard started down the stairs. “I’ll tell the chef.”

  “Do you have your itinerary?” I asked Kate when Richard walked out of earshot. “I think I lost mine again.”

  Kate rolled her eyes.

  “I know, I know. I always leave my schedule lying around.” I searched my pockets. “I remember having it during the family portrait session in the Salon Dore.”

  “The room in the back that looks like it’s been hosed down in gold foil?” Kate started downstairs. “Well, let’s go get it before the guests start coming down for dinner.”

  “We’ll go through the rear galleries. It’s faster and we don’t have to push past all the waiters.” I started walking up the staircase and stopped so Kate could catch up. “I can’t wait until this night is over.”

  “You say that at every wedding!” Kate followed me up the stairs toward the back galleries.

  “But this time I really mean it, Kate.” I reached a hand up to rub my neck. “I don’t care how high-profile this wedding is anymore. It’s not worth it!”

  “If we survived melting wax to seal three hundred envelopes with the Pierce family crest, we can take a few more hours of this.” Kate held up the finger I’d accidentally poured hot wax all over.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. Kate put an arm around my shoulder as we reached the landing between the foyer and the upper level. I could see that the cocktail hour was in full swing above us. The sound of the Dixieland jazz group we’d flown up from New Orleans could barely be heard over the din of the crowd. Body-to-body guests. Almost everyone in black. A typical Washington wedding.

  “We never did talk about workman’s comp,” she continued as I raised my eyebrows. “All I’m asking for is one Friday night off to go out on a real weekend date.”

  “With the congressional aide?” I found it difficult to keep track of Kate’s social life.

  “No, I’m off politics for a while. This one’s a lobbyist.”

  “How do you meet all these men?” Kate’s ability to put in a sixty-hour workweek and still have an active social life amazed me. I felt lucky if I had time to water my plants.

  “I don’t find them.” Kate shrugged, grinning. “They find me.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot you’re the innocent bystander.” I started to walk through the rotunda at the top of the landing. The lights in the back of the museum were turned off to discourage guests from wandering, and the room got dimmer as we walked. “Okay, I’ll run next week’s rehearsal, and you can take the night off.”

  “You’re the greatest!” Kate hurried behind me. “I’ll cover for you one night, if you ever want to go out.”

  “That’s a pretty safe offer.”

  “Are you sure we should be going this way?” Kate held onto my sleeve. “The big statue back here always gives me the creeps.”

  “I think when it’s this expensive they call it a sculpture.”

  Kate ignored my comment. “Why don’t you let me introduce you to someone? How about the assistant to the assistant of the White House chief of staff? He’s too tame for me, but he’d be perfect for you.”

  “Thanks, Kate, but I’m too busy to get involved with anyone.”

  We reached the top of the staircase that led down to more of the back galleries and each held on to one of the side railings as we descended.

  “Who said anything about getting involved?” Kate’s clicking heels were like sonar pings on the dimly lit stairs.

  “Then I’m definitely too busy!”

  “Come on, Annabelle, you haven’t been out with anyone since that doctor who moved to Algeria last year.”

  “Armenia.”

  “Close enough.”

  “They’re not even on the same continent!”

  We reached a small landing, and I could make out the final few stairs barely illuminated by the red and blue glow of a stained-glass window on display.

  “We’re going to kill ourselves.” Kate started down ahead of me, and then let out a small scream as she went sprawling off the last step and onto the floor.

  “Are you hurt?” I knelt down next to her, my concern mixed with slight vindication that her absurdly high heels had finally gotten the best of her.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “It can’t be that bad, Kate. You probably just twisted your ankle.”

  “No, not that. I mean her." She pointed behind me, and I turned to see a woman’s body crumpled at the bottom of the stairs.

  The woman’s neck twisted so sharply that, even though she lay on her stomach, I could see the contorted wide-eyed expression on her face glowing in a mottled pattern of red and blue light from the stained glass.

  Oh, God. I never meant it. Though I’d wished for it more times than I could remember over the past year, I’d never imagined it would happen. Not really.

  The mother of the bride was dead.

  2

  I pulled Kate to her feet as a waiter appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Get Richard,” I called out. My mouth felt numb. “And make sure no guests come down here.” Kate and I walked slowly up to the landing.

  “Go ahead, Kate. I’ll wait for Richard.”

  “I’m not going to leave you here.” Kate motioned behind us. “With her.”

  “Just make sure nobody else comes back this way. We don’t want to start a panic.”

  Kate paused, and I gave her a push. “Go on, and find a light switch.”

  She started shakily toward the main staircase, where guests began to filter downstairs for dinner. I watched her fumble along the wall and find the switch for the ambient lighting recessed high in the ceiling. It gave the room a dim glow. Better than being in the dark, at least.

  When Richard appeared, Kate whispered something to him and he hurried toward me.

  “What’s Kate babbling about? What’s going on? Who hit a big one?”

  I half groaned, half laughed. “I think she meant ‘bit the big one.’ ” I wondered if I’d ever heard Kate get an expression right. I motioned to the body at the foot of the stairs below me.

  “Good heavens!”

  “We found her just like that.” I concentrated on speaking clearly as I felt my head start to pound. “What are we going to do?”

  “Are you sure she’s dead?” Richard didn’t make a move toward going downstairs to check.

  “Have you ever seen someone’s neck do that?”

  “We have to call the police.” Richard shuddered and took his tiny silver cell phone out of his pocket.

  “But the wedding . . .” I said. “All those people . . . the bride . . .”

  “Annabelle.” Richard grabbed me by the shoulders. “This isn’t something we can fix with your emergency kit, and we certainly can’t hide her.”

  “Nobody uses this staircase, anyway . . .”

  “If you think we can carry on an entire wedding with the bride’s mother lying spread-eagled on a back stairway, you’re out of your mind! What are we supposed to do? Throw a tablecloth over her?”

  “You’re brilliant!” I ran past Kate and up the stairs to the cocktail area. I pulled an ivory damask linen off the nearest cocktail table and went back downstairs.

  “You’re not serious?” Richard stared at me.

  “Come on.” I started down the back staircase toward Mrs. Pierce. “I need help covering her.”

  “I’ll have no part of this.” Richard followed me down and stood on the last step with his hands on his hips. I unfurled the cloth over Mrs. Pierce and let it float down over her sprawled limbs.

  “Damn,” I said. “It’s too small. We’ll need one of the bigger linens from the dining tables. Do you have any extras?”

  Richard folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “No, and don’t even think of using my hand-beaded silk cloths, either. They cost me a fortune to get cleaned.”

  “Okay, then, we’ll have to make do.” I tugged the fabric over one of her feet and it slipped off her head. “Can you fix your side? It’s all twisted.”

  “I’m calling the police.” Richard snatched the tablecloth off Mrs. Pierce and marched up the stairs. “Unless you want to set up a champagne fountain over her?”

  “Wait.” I started to protest, then stopped. My shoulders sagged. “I’m not sure what got into me.”

  “You can’t help it.” Richard pulled out his phone. “It’s the wedding planner in you.”

  I listened to his side of the conversation with the emergency dispatcher. After hanging up, he led me away from the stairs to Kate.

  “I’ll stay here until the police come, and make sure no one sees the body,” Richard said. “Annabelle, you’re going to have to tell the family before they see the paramedics arrive.”

  “This just keeps getting worse and worse.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and wait for the police,” Kate said.

  “Let’s go.” Taking a deep breath, I fixed a smile on my face as Kate and I made our way down to the foyer.

  Guests stood milling around the tables, apparently continuing the cocktail reception from upstairs. I spotted the bride and groom near the dance floor as Kate headed for the front entrance.

  The groom had his arm secured around the bride’s waist and both were smiling, the bride gazing adoringly at her husband whenever he spoke.

  I hadn’t gotten very close to the bride or the groom while planning their wedding. As a matter of fact, I’d only met them a handful of times. Safe to say Clara Pierce hadn’t liked to share the decision-making process.

  My eyes rested on the bride. Elizabeth was a sweet, Barbie-doll blond girl as placid and easygoing as her mother had been argumentative and difficult. Usually mother-daughter wedding planning could be counted on for at least one tearful exchange, but Elizabeth had never objected to her mother’s firm handling of the wedding. I’d never seen the two argue. Kate had claimed once, with some amount of disdain, that the girl was too love-struck to notice anything. Easy to see why.

  Dr. Andrew Donovan was everything a woman, or her social-climbing mother, could dream of. Tall and darkly handsome, the young doctor had an intoxicating smile and an Ivy League pedigree that satisfied even his future mother-in-law’s hunger for status. After hearing Mrs. Pierce extol his virtues for nearly a year, I wasn’t sure whether Elizabeth or her mother loved him more.

  “Excuse me, Dr. Donovan.” I touched his sleeve to get his attention. He stared at me blankly for a moment, and then bestowed one of those famous smiles on me.

  “The wedding planner!” he said loudly to the group around him. “Hasn’t she done a fabulous job?”

  “Thank you.” I tried to make my voice sound natural. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Is anything wrong?” The bride tore her gaze away from her husband’s perfect features.

  “Of course not, dear. What could be wrong?” The groom answered before I had a chance to speak. “I’ll be back before you can miss me.” He kissed her on the nose, and then followed me to the middle of the dance floor, where no guests could overhear.

  “There’s been an accident,” I tried to get the words out as fast as possible. “Mrs. Pierce fell down a flight of stairs.” When he didn’t respond immediately, I continued. “She’s dead.”

  The doctor put a hand over his eyes.

  “Where is she?” He pulled his hand away from his face. “Maybe I can help.”

  Before I could answer him, two uniformed policemen arrived, and I watched Kate direct them upstairs. The crowd buzzed with curious chatter and a few people tried to get past Kate to follow the police.

  “Andrew!” Elizabeth ran up to her new husband and clutched his arm. “What’s happening? Why are the police here?”

  The groom put his arms around her, and I turned away. Wouldn’t it be better if she heard it from him than from me? I didn’t want to have to see her face when she found out her mother was dead and her wedding ruined. Knowing brides the way I did, I couldn’t be sure which would upset her more.

  I pushed through the crowd of wedding guests and headed toward the front door. I needed fresh air.

  “Whoa, there, ma’am.”

  I’d run headlong into a man in a wrinkled, blue button-down shirt. Obviously not a wedding guest.

  “Sorry.” I stepped back, sizing him up. Dark hair, broad shoulders, and hazel-brown eyes that held mine without faltering. I sucked in my breath. Wow.

  “Are you in charge here?” He’d apparently given me the once-over and then decided that I didn’t look like a wedding guest, either.