Death on the Aisle Read online

  The door to the dining room swung open, and a tall man strode in. His blond hair swept back from his face in a perfect wave, and he stared down at us over his slightly upturned nose. He wore a navy suit with a pink tie widely knotted at his throat and carried an armful of blue cloths, which he dumped onto the table in front of us.

  “Someone had better start explaining this mess or I am out of here.” He folded his arms and glared at all of us.

  Mandy gave me an apologetic look. “Meet Jeremy Johns, Mrs. Barbery’s designer from New York.”

  So much for peace and quiet.

  Chapter 5

  Jeremy Johns looked me up and down and then did the same to Kate. One eyebrow arched in obvious disapproval. I wasn’t sure if it was my khaki casual look or Kate’s just-tumbled-out-of-bed hair that elicited the near grimace. “And you would be?”

  “I’m Annabelle Archer, and this is my assistant, Kate.” I put out my hand for him to shake. “We’re from Wedding Belles.”

  His face remained blank.

  “They’re the wedding planners,” Mandy added.

  “Oh.” He gave me a perfunctory handshake. “Then maybe you can explain these miserable blue linens.” He pointed at the pile of pale blue tablecloths like he was accusing a murderer from the witness stand.

  “These must be what Richard sent over for the bride to pick from.” I ran a hand through the pile. Aside from one unfortunate shiny number and a too-heavy brocade, the linens weren’t bad. They were exactly what Kristie had requested: pale blue with some texture. I especially liked a powder blue silk that looked like it was covered with fluttery petals.

  Jeremy Johns put up his palms. “Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. You see, I’ve been given complete artistic control over this event and these linens do not fit into my vision.”

  “Since when do you have control over this wedding?” Kate asked. “We’ve been working on this for five months.”

  Jeremy folded his arms across his chest. “Since Mrs. Barbery called me in. This wedding is going to be on national television.” Again with the arching eyebrow. “You didn’t think she’d leave the design up to you two, did you?”

  Mandy gave a nervous laugh. “Why don’t we all talk this—”

  “It isn’t just the two of them.” Richard walked through the sliding door behind us, and I saw it led to a galley kitchen.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I rarely had this reaction when Richard joined a tense situation, but it was good to have a diva on our side too.

  “You’re with them?” Jeremy sized up Richard, but didn’t make a face. It helped that Richard wore a flawless polished cotton shirt in peacock blue with crisp tailored white pants and looked every bit the nautical aristocrat. Even his short, dark hair was perfectly coifed.

  “Richard Gerard of Richard Gerard Catering.” He didn’t extend his hand. “And, yes, I’m with them.”

  “And I’ll have you know we’ve designed some very fancy weddings,” Kate said. She’d made it from drowsy to defensive.

  Jeremy’s voice became syrupy sweet. “I’m sure you have, sweetie, but this is a whole other league. Trust me, I’ve designed Mrs. Barbery’s house in the Hamptons and her flat in London.”

  “Decorating a house and designing a wedding are two entirely different things,” Richard said. “So unless the client wants new drapes, why don’t you run along and let us do our jobs?”

  Jeremy clenched his fists, and Mandy groaned.

  “Mrs. Barbery flew me down to put my signature style on this wedding.” His voice was nearly a hiss. “All the properties I’ve designed for her have a distinct style, and so will this wedding.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask,” Richard said. “What is the signature style?”

  Jeremy fanned his hands out in front of us like he was pulling back curtains to a stage. “South Beach meets the South of France.”

  Everyone was silent for a moment.

  “You must be out of your mind,” Richard finally said.

  Jeremy sniffed. “Mrs. Barbery likes to mix the vintage with modern. It’s eclectic.”

  “I know I’m still half awake,” Kate muttered to me, “but I don’t even get it. How do those two things even go together?”

  Jeremy’s face reddened. “I don’t expect you to understand what we’re doing up in New York. You people in Washington are still wearing red power ties.”

  Richard sucked in air. “You take that back.”

  “This is insane.” Kate turned to me. “First a TV crew and now a neon-rustic theme?”

  I broke in. “Aren’t you all forgetting something?”

  “I doubt it,” said Jeremy and Richard together, then they glared at each other.

  “What about what the bride wants?” I asked. “This is her wedding, after all.”

  “Thank you, Annabelle.” Kristie pushed into the room behind Jeremy with Caren close behind her. This was getting absurd. Any more people and we’d be nose-to-nose.

  Kristie still wore black yoga pants and a formfitting batik-print tank top from her practice. Her ash blond hair was pulled up in a high ponytail giving her an extra inch or so, which she desperately needed. Everything about Kristie was tiny and delicate down to her soft voice.

  Jeremy turned around and smiled at the bride. “We were just discussing your wedding,” he gushed. “And how it’s going to be a fairytale come to life.”

  Kate made a gagging noise and I dug an elbow into her side.

  “My stepmother may have flown you here, Jeremy, but this is not her wedding.”

  Jeremy opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

  Kristie smiled at the rest of us. “But since my father and stepmother are hosting this wedding, and since Jeremy is here, I hope we can all work together.”

  Richard started to say something, but Kristie continued. “Because if we can’t, then I’m perfectly willing to call this whole thing off.”

  She spun on her heel and left the room. Caren followed the bride, a worried look on her face.

  “Well, I guess that settles it.” Mandy clapped her hands together, clearly glad to have the confrontation over with.

  “Hardly,” Jeremy said. “That girl is not in charge. I’m going to talk to Mrs. Barbery.”

  “Come on, boys.” I looked from Jeremy to Richard. “I’m sure we can find a compromise.”

  Jeremy turned and pushed through the door. “Over my dead body.”

  “That can be arranged,” Richard called after him.

  “You are not helping,” I said to Richard.

  “What?” he asked in his most innocent voice. “You’re always telling me to be more accommodating.”

  Chapter 6

  “I’d say that went well,” Kate said, as we listened to Jeremy Johns storm off to find the bride’s stepmother.

  “Do you want me to go after him?” Richard asked, not making a move toward the door.

  “And do what?” I asked. “Catch him and stuff him in a closet?”

  Richard’s face brightened. “Now you’re talking. Sometimes I believe we share the same brain, Annabelle.”

  I groaned.

  “I hope he doesn’t agitate Mrs. Barbery.” Mandy wrung her hands in front of her. “She’s much easier to work with when she’s not upset. The last time she got worked up she decided to change the staff uniform design and made me redo the menus for the week. The chef wanted to kill me.”

  Kate looked at Mandy’s worried expression and touched her arm. “Have you ever considered a different line of work? Because your job is starting to make our job look like fun.”

  Mandy gave a weak laugh, but still looked worried.

  I clapped my hands together to rally my troops. “Okay, I think we should find where Kristie ran off to. We can talk her off the ledge and then worry about Jeremy. I’m sure he’s more bark than bite, anyway.” I turned to Mandy. “Now let’s go find the bride.”

  “Follow me.” Mandy led everyone from the casual dining room into a hug
e main salon. “I’ll give you a tour of the ship. We’re bound to run into her along the way.”

  The room was done in almost all white with accents of black and silver. Pristine cream-colored carpet (which explained the mandatory slippers), curved ecru couches, metal and glass coffee tables, and what looked like James Bond memorabilia displayed in glass cases along one wall. It didn’t look like South of France meets South Beach yet, so I figured this must be more the father of the bride’s style. This boat was his baby, after all, and he’d had it long before the new Mrs. Barbery entered the picture. I wondered how Jeremy Johns planned to work his mash-up theme around this look.

  “The ship has five levels. On the main level is the bridge, the galley, the casual dining area, and the main salon. All the bedrooms are below. There’s a staircase along the outside of the ship in the back, another on each side, and two inside the ship. One that goes through the kitchen at the other end and one here.” Mandy pointed to the ornate gold staircase in the center of the main salon that led down into the ship. She walked us through the room to a set of glass doors that led outside. “This is the way to the transom and the wide staircase leading to the main salon. It’s how Mrs. Barbery wants guests to enter. Has the most wow factor.”

  “The transom?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” Mandy said. “That’s boat speak for the wide, flat area at the back end of the ship.”

  “Got it. So we’re putting a couple of highboy tables here?” I looked out and saw the large wooden floor of the extended transom at the base of the wide staircase. Even though the ship was huge, we’d need all the extra space we could get for a hundred and fifty guests plus the staff to wait on them.

  Two blond boys in white shorts and black shirts identical to Mandy’s were polishing the metal stair railings. They looked barely out of their teens, but I assumed they were part of the staff.

  “Who are they?” Kate asked, watching the tanned boys work.

  “Deckhands,” Mandy said. “They have a lot to do before next weekend.”

  “Too bad,” Kate said so only I could hear her. “They’re cute. I’d be willing to show them the DC sights if they got some time off.”

  “They’re children,” I said. “Hands off.”

  Kate made a pouty face, which I ignored.

  “Let’s go upstairs, so you can see where Mrs. Barbery thought we’d put the ice bar.” Mandy walked outside and around to a set of spiral stairs.

  We all followed her and came out on an upper deck with a covered lounge area that held a large half-moon table.

  “We thought it could go against this wall,” Mandy said, motioning to a wall with another set of glass double doors in the center.

  “What is this?” I pushed open one of the glass doors and peered into a room that looked more like it belonged in an English gentleman’s club than on an über-modern yacht. A pair of beige leather couches flanked a dark wood desk, and three of the four walls were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

  “This is Mr. Barbery’s study,” Mandy said. “He’d prefer we not use it for the wedding.”

  “Understandable.” Kate walked over to one of the walls of shelves and gestured to a display of ancient-looking coins. “It looks like he’s a collector.”

  “Those are all things he recovered while he was an underwater treasure hunter,” Mandy said.

  Richard raised his index finger. “I beg your pardon?”

  Mandy laughed. “Did you all not know that’s how he made his millions?”

  I shook my head. I’d yet to find an appropriate way to ask brides how their parents became loaded.

  Kate looked at me. “We have got to start Googling our clients.”

  “Mr. Barbery was one of the most successful salvage divers in his day,” Mandy said. “He’s been retired for years after finding chests of gold coins off the coast of Africa.”

  “Treasure hunting, gold, diving.” Kate touched one of the coins on display. “It sounds so exciting.”

  “The reality isn’t quite so romantic, I assure you,” a deep voice said from the doorway. “Freezing water, pirates, and hostile governments are more common.”

  “Mr. Barbery,” Mandy stammered. “I’m so sorry. I was just showing the wedding planners and caterer around. We’ll get out of your office.”

  The barrel-chested man laughed and waved his hands. “Don’t worry. It’s not every day I have such lovely ladies in my office.”

  Kate giggled and blushed. The bride’s father wasn’t tall, but he looked every bit the treasure hunter with bronzed skin and dark hair and a matching beard shot through with silver. He wore a white button down shirt rolled up to expose his thick forearms and a pair of gray cargo pants.

  “We were admiring your finds,” I said.

  Mr. Barbery nodded. “Just a few mementos. Most of my discoveries were sold to museums.”

  “I think it’s probably best that we don’t use this room for the wedding,” I said as I scanned the coins, antique guns, and leather-bound books on the shelves. “We should have enough space throughout the rest of the ship.”

  Mr. Barbery smiled at me, and the skin around his blue eyes crinkled. “I want my Kristie to have anything she wants for this wedding, so if you need anything, just let me know.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Richard and I said in unison.

  “I’d better go check on my wife.” Mr. Barbery winked at us. “I have to keep both of my girls happy.”

  We watched as he left the room.

  Kate shook her head. “He seems so much nicer than—”

  “Most of our fathers.” I cut off Kate so she couldn’t finish her sentence, which I was sure would have been an insult about Mrs. Barbery.

  “Good save,” Richard whispered to me.

  Mandy held open the glass doors and we all returned to the covered deck.

  “So we won’t use Mr. Barbery’s office but we will have the ice bar out here?” Kate asked.

  Richard cast his eyes over the space. “How on earth am I supposed to get the bar up here? A huge block of ice will never make it up that narrow staircase.”

  “You can use my crane.” A tall, broad-shouldered man with brown hair and a slightly sunburned face came up the stairs behind us in a white uniform as spotless as everything else on the ship. Next to him stood a man who matched him in height but was as lean as the other was broad with white blond hair cut short. The broad man smiled and extended his hand. “Captain Frank Hammer at your service. And this is my first mate, Jan.” He pronounced the J like a Y.

  “Annabelle Archer.” I shook both men’s hands first, and everyone else followed suit. “It’s nice to meet you. You have a lovely ship.” I didn’t know if this was what you were supposed to say to a captain, but he seemed pleased.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” he said. “Let me tell you, this ship is a vast upgrade compared to other ships I’ve sailed on with Mr. Barbery.”

  “You were with him when he was a salvage diver?” I asked.

  The captain grinned. “We go way back.”

  Kate put her hand on the first mate’s arm. “Jan? That’s an interesting name. Where are you from?”

  The first mate didn’t return Kate’s smile. “Norway.”

  “Our crew is from all over the world,” the captain said. “Norway, Scotland, Australia, the US.”

  Kate dropped her hand from the first mate’s arm when he didn’t respond to her fluttering eyelashes. She caught my eye and pantomimed shivering.

  “We were just taking a look at where Mrs. Barbery wants everything for the wedding,” Mandy said, her voice jumpy. “Are we in your way?”

  The captain gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Of course not. I’m at your disposal. If there’s any way I can help, let me know.”

  “You mentioned a crane?” Richard said. I know he was as worried about getting the giant ice block on board as I was.

  “Of course. We have a crane to get large things onto the ship. I’m sure we can use it for your
ice. Right, Jan?”

  The first mate gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “That would be perfect. Thank you.” I breathed a sigh of relief. One more thing checked off my to-worry-about list.

  “We’ll get out of your way.” Mandy motioned us back to the stairs as a scream came from below.

  We all hurried down to the lower deck and saw one of the deckhands lying on the floor of the transom. He clutched his ankle as the other boy knelt over him.

  Mandy rushed over to them. “What happened?”

  “He slipped on a slick patch on the steps,” the uninjured boy said.

  I went over to the steps and scraped at a patch on the steps that looked shinier than the rest. I examined the white residue under my fingernail. “Someone must have spilled some wax and forgotten to clean it up.”

  Captain Hammer pushed past us and knelt over the boy, prodding his puffy ankle. “Probably just a sprain. Let’s get him inside.”

  “I don’t understand how this happened.” Mandy looked on the verge of tears. “I can’t tell Mrs. Barbery there’s been another accident.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to.” Richard pointed above, where a woman with long, unnaturally red hair stood glowering down at us. She wore a black fur-trimmed silk robe that whipped around her bare legs in the breeze.

  “Unless I’m mistaken . . .” Richard began.

  Mandy lost all color in her face. “That’s Mrs. Barbery.”

  I cringed. This could not be good.

  Chapter 7

  “I’m telling you, this ship is cursed,” Richard said as we stood on the dock switching out our boat-approved slippers for shoes.

  “Be quiet,” I whispered to him as I peeked up at the ship. Mandy stood two levels above us on the rear deck, so I gave her a final wave and she waved back. “Someone might hear you.”

  “I’m with Richard.” Kate slipped her heels back on. “This boat gives me the creeps.”

  “It’s not the ship that’s the problem,” Richard said. “It’s that awful stepmother and her Guy Friday.”