Wedding Takedown Page 13

  “Why on earth would you need a photograph of that door?” Gloria’s query sounded right behind her and Kayla had to fight to maintain hold of her phone. Because of its large screen, Gloria had seen what she’d taken a photo of.

  “I thought you might want a garland around it, to make it less utilitarian in appearance.” She turned and found Gloria towering above her in patent red pumps and a zebra-print zip-front dress with a red patent belt. The woman’s hair was teased to within an inch of cracking from the weight of the hair spray.

  “Anyway, it’s nice to see you, Gloria. How was your drive?”

  Gloria waved her question away. “Fine, fine.” No doubt every drive in her Mercedes was “fine.” “But I’m stressed to say the least. Cynthia is insistent that she can’t move the wedding back any further and I have no idea how we’re going to pull this off in a week.”

  “I’ve planned weddings with far less time. And it’s nice that you’re having both the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception in the same place.” Her other short-notice weddings had been smaller, more intimate affairs, but Gloria didn’t need to know that. “It’ll all work out. Is something in particular bothering you?”

  “All of it. I hate having to rush a social function of any kind. I’m a detail person.”

  “We’ll make it work. Is Sylvia coming today?”

  “No, she’s manning the office for me.” Kayla noted that Gloria treated her position as the mayoral spouse as its own entity. If she were a governor’s wife, or the First Lady, it would make more sense. But Gloria didn’t seem to do much besides run social functions for the mayor. And screw his assistant.

  “Here you go.” Molly walked in with a slender woman next to her. Kayla immediately recognized Veronique, the chef.

  “Kayla, nice to see you again.”

  “Hello, Veronique.” During the previous event Kayla had worked with Veronique, she had been all sweetness during the planning phase, but turned into quite the witch during the actual production. When Kayla had brought the flowers in for the celebration-of-life dinner, she’d witnessed Veronique chewing out her sous chef to the point of tears, all because the onions for a sauce had been chopped instead of minced. Kayla didn’t consider herself a gourmet cook, but she knew her way around the kitchen and had helped her mother entertain large groups of diplomats. It was hardly ever important enough to fuss over such a small mistake in the kitchen. People came together to enjoy each other’s company and rarely remembered what they ate unless it was exceptionally good or horrifically bad.

  “Fine, let’s sit down, shall we?” Molly gestured to the closest round table and they all took their seats. Gloria made sure her phone was in front of her and Veronique pulled out a huge leather binder.

  “I have photographs for the menu selections.” She handed the book to Gloria, who opened it and started turning pages.

  “I like the idea of surf and turf. We’ll please all of our guests.”

  Veronique cleared her throat. “It is more costly, I have to tell you. A buffet line would be best at this short notice. You can’t be sure to hear back from everyone in time for a sit-down affair, and with the buffet setup we can do a few more dishes, and alternative desserts to the cake, to include gluten-free.”

  “Oh, but the cake is going to need to be gluten-free, didn’t I already tell you that?” Gloria cocked her head in a practiced innocence.

  Veronique puckered her lips as her fingers flew over her phone. “I do have that you asked for a gluten-free alternative...”

  “The wedding cake must be gluten-free. That’s nonnegotiable. That way all of our friends can enjoy it. So many are gluten-free these days.”

  “Any other food allergies I should be aware of?” Veronique was a professional and Kayla gave her credit. Gloria wasn’t the easiest client by far.

  And now that she knew Gloria was also possibly a coconspirator to murder and cheating on her husband, Kayla found her presence nauseating.

  “Are you paying attention, Kayla? Because the flowers are going to have to complement the courses.” Gloria’s brown eyes sparked with decisiveness and her perfectly manicured hands were folded in front of her. She’d tired of Veronique’s book.

  “Yes, got it.” Kayla looked at Veronique and waited until they made eye contact. “You and I can work together to make it happen.”

  “Yes, of course.” With an insouciant Gallic shrug, Veronique gave the impression of unflappability.

  Kayla felt as though her blood pressure was spiking and wondered what Molly would do if she pounded her fist on the table.

  “Things always seem overwhelming at the planning stage, don’t they? But I promise, once the day arrives it’ll go like clockwork.” Molly had to be a middle child considering how well she smoothed things over. “I’ll have my usual full staff of five along with six extras. We will all pitch in to make your daughter’s wedding reception the most beautiful occasion.”

  “Cynthia’s a tough girl to please. Trust me on that.” Gloria sniffed, her patience obviously thin.

  “Cynthia was excited about the plans I’ve drawn up for the gazebo. Why don’t I bring them into the decor here? Veronique and I will make sure the courses coordinate.” Kayla noticed that Molly had gone quiet, allowing her and Veronique to handle Gloria. She didn’t blame her.

  “It’s the other way around, of course. The food first, then coordinate the flowers.” Veronique was showing a tiny sliver of the electric-eel part of her personality that Kayla had seen before.

  “You two work it out, I don’t care how. I’m certainly paying you enough to do so.” Gloria’s hands shook as she read something off her phone, her lips drawn in a tight thin line reminiscent of Cynthia’s persnickety attitudes. They might not be blood but the similarity was stunning. Kayla wondered what Tony Charbonneau’s first wife—Cynthia’s mother—looked like. Maybe an older version of Gloria? Mayor Charbonneau seemed to have a penchant for uptight, controlling women in his life.

  “Back to your original question on allergies, Veronique. There are to be no scallops anywhere in sight of the meal.”

  “We’re preparing lobster tails. Is that okay? They’re both shellfish.”

  Gloria shook her head. “I’m only allergic to scallops. Lobster is fine, and one of my favorites. Although it’s awfully messy for a wedding.”

  “No worries. My team and I will have them all split and ready to eat. No one will be cracking lobster shells at Cynthia Charbonneau’s wedding.” She gave a little flip with her hands, and combined with her French accent it made everyone laugh, albeit nervously. “I also thought it would be nice to have a seafood risotto on the brunch buffet table at your home, for immediately after the service. I plan to use shrimp and crab for that.”

  “That’s lovely.”

  They sat and discussed colors and theme for the next forty minutes. Kayla would have excused herself, as Veronique had, when the conversation began to focus exclusively on the inn and what it was providing for the reception, but she thought better of it. She might catch a few extra morsels of information by staying.

  CHAPTER 13

  “I’d feel a little better if I could talk to Cynthia one more time before I go ahead with my orders for the wedding.” Kayla knew it wasn’t what Gloria wanted to hear, but Cynthia was a woman with a mind of her own and she had no desire to entertain headaches where she could just as well prevent them.

  “I’m the mother of the bride. Shouldn’t the final decision be left to me?” Gloria’s overly made-up face puckered in a pout. Kayla wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Gloria was at least twenty years younger than most mothers of the bride. She was probably not much older than Cynthia. Or herself, for that matter.

  “Since Cynthia’s the bride, I’d like to speak to her. It doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to touch base with her before tomorrow afternoon.” Kayla had to have the specialty flowers ordered online by then so that her supplier could place the order first thing Monday morning. Her
supplier was flexible and great to work with and she wanted to keep it that way. Changing a huge order like this, so short-notice already, was trouble for everyone.

  “I’ll tell her but she won’t be back in town until late next week. She’s back at law school.”

  Again, Kayla kept her mouth shut. How hard would it be for Cynthia to call her or drive the short distance to confirm details? But did Cynthia really want to get married? It almost seemed to be an afterthought.

  You’re making a good profit from this. Let it go.

  But it wasn’t about the profit. Kayla prided herself on her professionalism, and being forced to plan such a lavish wedding six days out was crazy enough without the bride here to add another demanding client.

  Gloria looked exasperated as she shoved her planning calendar, lipstick—which she’d reapplied no less than three times in the two hours they’d had the meeting—and phone back into her expensive designer bag. “You’re the florist, Kayla.” Was that supposed to keep her in her place? “How different would Cynthia want it? She’s trusted me with all the planning and I’m happy to do it for her. It’s the least I can do for her and her father. They mean the world to me.”

  Sure they do. That’s why you’re doing the horizontal chicken dance with Mickey.

  “Okay, well, if anything changes or you come up with any other ideas you’d like implemented, don’t hesitate to call me. Cynthia, too, please make sure she has my number.”

  “Will do.” Gloria’s spiked heels clicked against the parquet flooring. The soles were lacquer red, of course. Nothing less than Christian Louboutin for Gloria.

  Kayla waited to leave, taking a few extra minutes to look around the main reception room once more, visualizing where she’d place her arrangements and which colors and shades would do best in the subdued lighting. It was going to be an evening affair and Cynthia was adamant she wanted candles. But the fire codes limited their number.

  She texted Rio and let him know she was on her way home. She’d call Jenny from the van once she was on the road. Hefting her tote onto her shoulder, she headed for the back door, closest to the parking lot. The door opened easily and she stepped onto a wheelchair ramp. She was pleased with the inn and all that it offered. It truly was one-stop event shopping. She also appreciated that while Gloria could have come here and had the inn provide everything from the food to the flowers, she’d stayed local to Silver Valley and the metropolitan area of Harrisburg. The gesture kept people like Kayla and Veronique in business.

  It had rained while she was inside and she sidestepped puddles in the parking lot, noting that the clouds were still low, promising more rain. Raindrops glistened on the broad leaves of the shrubbery that was waking up after its long winter nap and she enjoyed the fresh scent of earth and sprouting fauna unique to spring. The parking area was surrounded by carefully pruned hedges that were taller than she was. She did a quick scan to make sure she was alone. The lot was empty save for her vehicle, which made sense as tonight’s event probably wasn’t until dinnertime, two hours away. Still, her hackles went up at how isolated it seemed, just around back from the small town’s main street. She’d have to tell Rio that his warnings had finally sunk in. She imagined the bogeyman behind every corner.

  Rio hadn’t replied to her text yet. She knew she shouldn’t look forward to anything from Rio except the safety he and the SVPD were providing her. But after their complete lack of self-control had led to the most spectacular sex, she’d thought of little else. Except for the murder of Meredith.

  As she neared the van, she clicked the key fob in her hand and heard the loud snap of the locks and saw the rear lights wink on and off. The familiarity of the normal, everyday action didn’t soothe her anxiety, though. She still felt the weight of the past week on her.

  The same sound she’d heard for the first time only several days ago reached her ears a nanosecond before she felt something whiz by her ear.

  A gunshot. A bullet.

  She dropped to the gravel and dialed 911. Fast footsteps sounded on the gravel, footsteps Kayla hoped never reached her as she threw herself into the bottom of the arborvitae hedge. She scratched and clawed at the lower branches as she worked her way on her stomach into the middle of the border until she was safely hidden from view.

  She needn’t have worried as the shooter never appeared and she heard fast footfalls on the gravel, moving away from her.

  “What’s your emergency?” The dispatcher’s request cut through her fear and disbelief.

  “I’ve been shot at. I’m at the Serenity Inn in Amittstown. Please tell Detective Ortega at Silver Valley PD. It might be related to a case he’s working on.”

  “Are you injured, ma’am?”

  Dazed, Kayla reached for her ear. Her hand came away wet and in the dim light under the bushes she made out a red hue.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

  * * *

  As she allowed the EMTs to tend to what they deemed was a minor abrasion due to being grazed by a bullet, Kayla saw Rio’s car pull up into the lot. A second person was with him, another SVPD officer. Unlike Rio, this officer was in uniform. She watched as Rio angled his long body out of the seat and realized she couldn’t be mortally wounded or else she wouldn’t be getting aroused as quickly as she was just by looking at Rio. He was at her side in a few short strides. He flashed his badge at the EMT before he put his hand on her upper arm opposite the side where she was injured and looked into her eyes.

  “You okay?” His eyes were full of concern, and maybe, just maybe, was that a flash of guilt?

  She nodded, but her lower lip started to jerk and without further warning she was blubbering like a baby.

  “Can I have a minute with her?” Rio asked but he’d already moved in between her and the first responder.

  “Yes, sir, of course.”

  “I’m, I’m f-f-fine.” She hated how out of control she sounded. It was like when she and her brother had just missed being victims of a terrorist bomb on the Tube in London, when they’d been teens. The reality of how close they’d come to being hurt or worse hit her only after she was back at home and her parents’ concern had underscored their near miss.

  “Yes, you are.” Rio’s arms were around her and she leaned into his embrace, still sitting on the back end of the ambulance. “You’re more than fine, Kayla. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

  “How could you have known you needed to be?” She sniffed but didn’t miss the way he stiffened at her question.

  “I’ll tell you about it later.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “Did you see anyone?”

  She shook her head.

  “No. I heard some steps right before the gunshot, but that was it. I was so frightened and didn’t see a way out except to try to hide in the hedges. That’s what’s got me so scratched up—probably more than the bullet.” She allowed him to tilt her head and examine her ear. He brushed her hair back just as the EMT had but she felt Rio’s touch down into the deepest, scariest parts of herself. His nearness chased away the fear that had terrorized her only minutes before.

  “You’re right. It’s not much more than a scratch. It looks like he butterflied it up nicely for you, but I’m sure you’ll need to have a doctor look at it.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I don’t need to go to a doctor. It’s stopped bleeding, I don’t have a headache or anything and I have a wedding to get planned.” Not to mention the other orders waiting for her at the shop. She hadn’t even been able to touch base with Jenny yet.

  “The wedding planning can wait. Where was Gloria when this happened?” Rio’s voice was stern and she heard a steely note of frustration.

  “She’d already left, out the front. The only other person meeting with us was Veronique, the chef, and she left as much as a full half hour before we did.”

  “I need you to come back to the station and file an official report. I promise I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

 
“I’ll meet you there. I’ll take my van this time.”

  “Kayla, no. If you want to be in your van, let me drive it. I’ll have my deputy drive my car back.”

  * * *

  Rio listened as Kayla talked to her assistant, Jenny, about the day’s workload and what they had in store for tomorrow. As he took the backcountry roads to Silver Valley, he used the opportunity to look at Kayla as much as possible while keeping his driving safe.

  Except for the nasty slash across her left ear, she looked like the woman he knew and not the victim of an attempted murder.

  Slow down. You don’t know they meant to kill her.

  Kayla’s bleak shock lifted when she spoke with Jenny. Her expression was animated by her enthusiasm for her flower shop and what she loved doing. He liked how she managed to be so personable, but at the same time was definitely the one in charge. It was a skill he’d had to work at, since his inclination as a young officer had been to clean up a mess and ask questions later. Through time, experience and observing that a gentle touch got more answers out of people, he’d learned to do what Kayla seemed to do naturally.

  “Any reason you’re so interested in my work schedule?” She turned toward him, her annoyance obvious.

  “Sorry. I honestly didn’t pay attention to what you were saying. I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

  He quickly looked at her and smiled when he saw the blush on her cheeks. Making Kayla speechless was rare and incredibly satisfying.

  “Oh.”

  “You’ve been thinking about it, too, Kayla. I know you have.”

  “The stairs.” Another thing he adored about Kayla was her straightforward manner when it came to sex. She was as feminine as all get-out yet hadn’t hesitated to ask him for what she’d wanted in bed.