Wedding Takedown Read online

  Kayla turned the van onto a stately street lined with houses that dated back three centuries. The Charbonneaus lived in a well-preserved Victorian home. The outside was painted hunter green and the gingerbread trim was creamy yellow with gilt highlights. She wondered if Gloria would prefer living in one of the many upscale developments in the more suburban parts of Silver Valley, with their McMansion-style decor. Something closer to her and the mayor’s showy taste.

  The mayor of Silver Valley needed to reside in the historical town proper, however, so the Charbonneaus had purchased the Victorian a month before he was elected to office. A bold move considering the election had been expected to go to a younger politician who was well-known in town for her athletic accomplishments, first at Silver Valley High and then at Georgetown University in Washington. Now retired from women’s basketball and returned to her hometown, Poppy Hopper had been a shoe-in.

  Until Anthony Charbonneau showed up.

  Parallel parking in between two Priuses wasn’t easy, but Kayla did it, since there were no driveways in Silver Valley’s historical district. The fuel-efficient cars were as ubiquitous as the Bradford pear trees that dominated much of the local landscape.

  The home’s front porch was wide and welcoming, and a hand-painted sign declared Mayor and Gloria Charbonneau resided there. Kayla rolled her eyes at a tiny chipmunk that was busy studying her from one of the potted tulips she’d delivered last week. He twitched his whiskers and darted out of sight. It reminded her that she needed to tend to the flower beds in her own garden, but it would have to wait. With everything she had scheduled, the chipmunks would probably eat all her bulbs by the time she had a chance to put her fingers in the soil again.

  The door opened as Kayla lifted her hand. Only then did she notice the unobtrusive security camera set in the middle of the door knocker.

  “You must be Kayla. Gloria is in the dining room. Let me show you back.”

  “Thank you.” Kayla smiled. “And you are?”

  “I’m Sylvia, Gloria’s personal assistant.”

  “Nice to meet you in person.” They’d spoken on the phone when Sylvia placed the orders for official functions, as well as for the house. Jenny handled most of the weekday deliveries.

  Kayla noted that Gloria’s weekly arrangement sat on a pedestal table on the right side of the hallway, where every visitor would see the fresh flowers. She hoped many asked Gloria where she’d purchased them.

  “Kayla, please, have a seat.” Gloria sat on one side of the huge maple wood table, motioning for Kayla to take the seat opposite. The table appeared to be set for formal tea, with the china clearly matching the period of the house.

  “This is beautiful.” Kayla felt a little out of place in her usual work outfit—black leggings and a V-neck purple pullover with her shop logo embroidered over the left breast. At least she’d taken the time to run her fingers through her pixie cut.

  “Yes, we’ve taken measures to keep everything as authentic as possible. It’s so important to preserve Silver Valley’s history.”

  Kayla smiled in an attempt to appear sociable. While she adored flowers and natural beauty, Kayla was more interested in a person’s character than outward appearances. Gloria’s passion appeared to be outward appearances, not unusual for a politician’s wife.

  “Please, dig in and enjoy your meal while I outline my plans for Cynthia’s ceremony.”

  Kayla took a generous swig of the iced tea from a crystal glass and settled into her meal as best she could while Gloria went through list after list of the flowers she’d need for each room of the house. Her note cards were embossed with her name in gold ink and she used a fountain pen that probably cost more than Kayla’s Blooms made in six months.

  “We’ll need everything fresh, crisp and with no signs of wilting anywhere.”

  “Of course. That’s what I do.” Kayla smoothed the pale blush napkin on her lap. “I’ll make up all the arrangements as close to the ceremony as possible. We will need to get the gazebo done the evening before.”

  “But what if we have a very hot night? Or if we get a late freeze?” Gloria’s Botoxed forehead allowed just enough expression for Kayla to make out her genuine concern.

  “I’ll worry about that. If it was still this coming Saturday, we’d have more to worry about, but the weather report looks okay temperature-wise. They used to say we’d be free of frost worries any time after Mother’s Day, but the past ten years have been milder.”

  Mother’s Day was the hallmark date used by gardeners in the central Pennsylvania region to mark the full arrival of spring.

  “We had an awful winter and I read that the ground is having a hard time warming up. Don’t you think we should wait until the morning of to put out the garden arrangements?” Unlike anyone else in Silver Valley, Gloria used the European term garden for backyard. Kayla had to keep from smiling.

  “Let’s not worry about that today. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to make the day perfect for you.” Thank God she only had to worry about flowers and not the cake or wedding dress.

  “Oh, and I’d like you to coordinate with the baker so that the cake has similar flowers.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m using the best bakery in Harrisburg. You’ll need to go out there, since Veronique is too busy to come to Silver Valley.”

  Kayla was grateful for the tuna salad in her mouth so that she didn’t have to bite her lip until she sprayed blood on Gloria’s fine linens. She’d had to work with Veronique Bleu twice before and both times had been a challenge. Veronique had grown up in the Harrisburg area as Veronica Bluestone, but after graduating from the Le Cordon Bleu she came back to the area a born-again Francophile. Her baked goods were phenomenal and until Kayla had met the difficult woman behind the concoctions she’d treated herself to one of the bakery’s éclairs on special occasions.

  “I know Veronique. We’ve worked together before.”

  “Really? She didn’t mention it, but then, she is very busy. Her cakes are sent all over the world.”

  Yes, Kayla knew this, too. No matter. It was her job to work with the baker and so she would.

  Gloria’s assistant appeared in the dining room.

  “Gloria, you have a call in your office.”

  Gloria looked at her assistant and Kayla watched an emotion she never associated with her play across her face. Fear.

  “Please excuse me. I’ll have the tea and dessert brought out.”

  Kayla nodded, wondering where she’d put any more food after the rich lunch. As soon as Sylvia and Gloria were out of sight, Kayla quietly pushed back from the table and went out in to the hallway. Voices drifted through two closed antique doors as old as the house.

  “I told you to tell him I’m in a meeting.”

  “I’m sorry but he insisted he had to speak to you.”

  “Stay here. I want a witness.”

  A witness?

  “Hello, Tony.”

  “Gloria. You didn’t put me on speakerphone, did you?” She recognized the mayor’s voice as Gloria must have indeed put the call on speakerphone.

  “I did, but only because I’m in the middle of sorting files. Don’t worry, I’m alone in my office. Sylvia is keeping the florist busy in the dining room. How are you, darling?”

  Why was she lying to her husband?

  “Up to my ass in alligators. It’s a pain in the neck, this job. We should have kept our focus on the big race and not taken this detour. And now we have to find me a new assistant. Have you gotten anywhere on that this morning?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Remember what I said. Don’t let Cynthia’s wedding planning take precedence over this, Gloria. We need a new assistant and I can’t be the one looking for her. It wouldn’t be smart, not this soon.”

  “The wedding will take care of itself, darling. Cynthia is a simple girl who doesn’t want a big fuss. For your assistant, I was thinking of a man this time, Tony.”

 
; If this was a “simple” wedding Kayla did not want to know what kind of wedding Gloria considered lavish. There was a long pause and Kayla wondered if Gloria had turned off the speaker.

  “Whatever, Gloria. I need someone eager enough to be willing to do what we need without being too nosy or concerned about all my personal projects.”

  What kind of projects?

  “I know that, Tony. I’m only looking out for you, sweetheart.”

  “You always do. And thanks for the bag of burner phones. You’re always a step ahead of me.”

  “I didn’t expect we’d need them this soon, but I’m glad you have them.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure the cops will be looking at me since Meredith was out there on my dime, but there’s no connection.”

  “No, honey, of course there’s not. But you don’t need the added stress of an investigation right now.”

  “The florist, did you get a chance to talk to her?”

  “I did one better. She’s going to work with us on Cynthia’s wedding here.”

  “Is that a good idea? Maybe you should hire someone else.”

  “She never got out there last night. Doesn’t know a thing about it.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I know how to keep my enemies close, Tony.”

  Kayla felt a single drop of perspiration make its way from the nape of her neck to the small of her back as she stood stock-still on the hall carpet. Just how close did she want to be to these people?

  Maybe Rio was right. She was a florist, not a detective.

  “Excuse me, who are you?” Kayla jumped at the voice behind her. She stepped back from Gloria’s office door as if she’d been burned. She faced a young woman with a no-nonsense brunette bob and the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  “I’m Kayla. I’m Ms. Charbonneau’s florist.”

  “What are you doing standing here?” This had to be Cynthia. Her resemblance to her father was unmistakable.

  “I needed to let Ms. Charbonneau know I’m leaving, but I didn’t want to interrupt anything important. And you’re...?” No way was a Charbonneau going to get the better of her. She reminded herself to stay cool. This job was too important to lose.

  “I’m Cynthia.” Just like her father, a bright, wide smile and slight head tilt transformed Cynthia into a personable being, someone Kayla could easily see in front of a jury or an audience of voters. “It’s my wedding that you’re planning.”

  “Oh, I’m so pleased to meet you. Your mother said you were finishing up final exams for law school.”

  A slight narrowing of her eyes was Cynthia’s only sign that she might not like it that Gloria had been talking about her. “Stepmother. Gloria’s my stepmother. My real mother split when I was a baby. And I’m almost finished with my exams, which is why I could come home for a quick visit today, before I have to study for my final presentation—they’re a big deal, you know—and then start studying for the bar exam in July. I’m literally up the road at Dickinson College. The Penn State law program.” She laughed. “Mostly, though, I just couldn’t wait to marry Charles, even if the timing is a bit crazy.”

  “Charles is your fiancé, I assume?” Kayla hadn’t thought to ask the groom’s name yet. And how was Cynthia able to talk so readily about her mother abandoning her?

  “Yes, Charles Blackwell, the judge. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?” Cynthia smiled sweetly but Kayla detected the sense of victory underneath her query. As if her future husband was her trophy. Kayla swallowed her laughter. The parallel of the mayor and his daughter having trophy spouses didn’t escape her.

  “Yes, he’s in the paper a lot.”

  “Yes, he is. He’s met the president.” Cynthia smacked her lips as if she’d taken a mouthful of the world’s most expensive caviar. “I am so excited for us to be married. We share a common passion for politics and government.”

  “Lovely.” Kayla smiled and prayed she looked mesmerized instead of completely baffled. It was as if she’d been dropped into a bizarre television drama.

  “Lovely?”

  “I mean, being so in love. A last-minute wedding is so romantic.”

  “It’s not that last-minute. Our marriage has been in the planning stages for at least a month now. The wedding is just a day. Isn’t that what they say?” Cynthia raised an eyebrow as if she dared Kayla to contradict her. Kayla wasn’t a big believer in things “they” said, whoever “they” were.

  “The wedding day is important, too, though—it can set the tone for a marriage. It’s definitely worth it to start your life together with a special day.” How many brides had she uttered these words to, believing them but never believing it would happen in her life? Kayla wasn’t so keen on marriage. Why did Rio pop into her head as she thought that? Marriage would be especially difficult with someone who had a job as crazy as his. Kayla could see herself living with someone maybe. A commitment for life, however, would mean risking the stability she had carved out for herself. Stability wasn’t something she was willing to give up.

  Loneliness would be a good thing to give up.

  “Our day will be wonderful, of course. Charles has told me to do whatever I want.” Cynthia leaned in closely to Kayla, as if they were longtime confidantes. “He’s been married twice before. It’s not common knowledge, but he’s had a run of bad luck with wives. He was divorced early from his first wife and was married to his second wife for over twenty years. He was widowed last year.”

  “Oh?” Kayla didn’t want to know such personal details but if it gave her insight into this crazy family and a lead on who killed Meredith, she was all ears.

  “Yes. Both of his exes had drinking problems. A lack of self-control can have terrible consequences. I’m just happy Charles won’t have to worry about that with me.”

  Kayla bit the inside of her cheek to keep from uttering her opinion that addiction wasn’t a choice. Let Cynthia have it however she wanted it—Kayla was here to supply the flowers and help the SVPD solve a crime. It was the only leverage she might have to help Rio get the killer and free up his time to work on Keith’s case.

  “Well, I need to let your stepmother know I’ve done my preliminary walk-through and I’ll be back to take more detailed measurements. She had her office door closed—I didn’t want to interrupt her.”

  Cynthia stared at her a beat too long, during which Kayla wiggled her toes in her shoes. “No problem. I’ll let her know you’ve finished. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of you over the next ten days. It’s going to be a wonderful wedding.”

  “Absolutely, it will.”

  Kayla let herself out the front door and fought the impulse to shake her head in disbelief. The vast majority of brides she’d worked with were so happy and nervous about their nuptials that they talked about nothing else. Cynthia wasn’t exactly a typical bride-to-be.

  What kind of bride will you be?

  No kind. After being burned by her time with Rio, and still having to fight her attraction to him almost half a year later, long-term anything wasn’t on Kayla’s agenda. Not until her heart healed, as much as she hated to admit it even to herself. And even then, the man she eventually picked for a lifetime had to want to be in a safer position. Not fighting bad guys and risking his life every day.

  Not that she was thinking about weddings and Rio together.

  She’d leave the weddings to her clients.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Hi, Kayla.” Keith, her tall, sandy-haired brother, opened the front door to his townhome and accepted the bag of groceries she’d brought. “I’m not starving, you know. I’m still getting paid.” He closed the door behind them and followed her into the kitchen.

  “I cooked some extra soup, some casseroles and lasagna last weekend. They’re frozen but all you have to do is thaw and heat them up and you’ll have a quick meal. I figured you’re so busy with your case that you’d be able to use some meals you don’t have to cook yourself.” Her brother hated the idea of her feeling sorry fo
r him.

  “We’re adults, sis. The older-sibling mantle is wearing thin on your shoulders.”

  That was just like Keith, making her smile when he was in such grim circumstances.

  “Let me be the big sis while I can. Someday you might be taking care of me in a nursing home.”

  “Doubtful. You’re the most active person I know, besides the guys at the station. Between your business and yoga class, not to mention cooking pity meals for me, you never stop.” He eased onto his sofa, only a few feet from the kitchen counter in his small living space. “Have you heard from Mom and Dad?” Kayla knew what he was really asking was Do they still think I’m innocent?

  “They’ll be back in town in two weeks or so. They asked if one of us could freshen up their place and put some basics in the refrigerator.” Her dad was long retired from diplomatic service, but her mother had her own international decor store in town. They were on the road through Poland and Russia at the moment, ordering pottery and wooden Santa dolls for the start of the Christmas season in six months. Their shop had to be prepared in September to appease the appetites of their voracious collectors, who preferred to shop early for the winter holidays. Silver Valley had been the home of both sets of Kayla’s grandparents and a natural place to retire once both Kayla and Keith started attending Penn State. Their older sister, Melody, had gone to Oberlin College and worked for the State Department. She lived in Africa with her husband.

  “When will they get in?”

  “They’re flying into Harrisburg early on the weekend after Easter.”

  “It’s the longest they’ve been gone to order stock.”

  “I think they miss the old life. I won’t be surprised if they add a visit to see Melody.”

  He nodded. “Nothing like how we grew up, moving around as if we were jet-setters.”

  She laughed and he joined her. Their life had been far from materially rich as they’d traveled from embassy to embassy with the smallest collection of belongings. The furniture had always been provided, as had the appliances and basic cookware. The rest had been improvised according to the customs of the country they lived in.