Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom (30 page)

Just as the sun began
its glorious ascent in a nearly cloudless azure sky, I rose from my
bed. Tired, but motivated, I quickly dressed, walked the dogs, and
then got started with breakfast for the group.

Flipping French toast
on the griddle, I found myself humming classic show tunes as I made
breakfast. If I had been all alone, I probably would have burst
into my rendition of
Get Me to
the Church on Time
. There was no
denying the fact that I was nearly giddy with anticipation of the
first wedding at the Four Acorns Inn. The scent of warm maple syrup
just seemed to sweeten the moment.

“You’re in a good
mood.” Kenny stopped to kiss me as he passed through the kitchen on
the way to the dining room. “It’s nice to see a smile on your face
for a change. I was getting rather sick of that schoolmarm
scowl.”

“Were
you?”

“I was. I much prefer
you as the pretty innkeeper who happens to make fantastic French
toast. Pile them up. I’m a hungry guy this
morning.”

“You’ve got
it.”

By nine, breakfast was
over and I was back in the kitchen, whipping up the chocolate
mousse filling for the wedding cake. The aroma that wafted up
towards my nose as the bittersweet and semi-sweet chocolate merged
in the double-boiler was tantalizing. I put the pan aside to cool
while I whipped my heavy cream. With a light hand, I folded the
ingredients together, relishing the beautiful consistency. This
cake was going to be a winner. With a sigh of satisfaction, I
covered the bowl and put it into the refrigerator to chill. It was
time to move onto other things.

The weather report
promised sunny skies for the next few days. With the bar tent
already set up in the garden for the wedding, I decided we could
hold the cocktail hour outside and serve tonight’s welcoming dinner
on the sun porch. First, though, we had a little decorating to do.
I rummaged around in the attic and pulled out some silk boxwood
garlands we used for a party last year. Jen and I got busy wrapping
them in white fairy lights. These we draped around the room at
ceiling height, to create a warm glow at twilight. Once that was
done, I stepped back, surveying the scene.

“What do you think?” I
asked her.

“So far, so good, but
won’t the overhead porch light spoil the twinkling
lights?”

“I have some lattice
work candle lanterns we can use on the table.”

All of the flowers for
the festivities had been picked up yesterday, inspected, and
approved; they were resting comfortably in the refrigerator up at
Bur’s. Jenny retrieved two mixed bouquets and we got
busy.

“What do we do?” she
wanted to know. I handed her a pair of scissors, some wooden floral
picks, and florist tape.

“This will be our
centerpiece.” I showed her a large natural wicker basket lined with
plastic and wet florist foam, ready to be filled. “We cut the
stalks of the sturdy flowers and stick them directly into the foam.
The more delicate blossoms get strapped to the picks and wrapped
with tape. And when we’ve got the flowers in place, we’ll add
sprays of boxwood and myrtle from the garden.”

“Wow. This is going to
be beautiful, Miz Scarlet.”

After breaking a couple
of stems, Jenny finally got the hang of handling the blossoms. When
the basket was filled, she called me to inspect it. I turned it
slowly, looking to see if there were any bare or uneven spots.
There weren’t.

“You did a nice job,” I
informed her, smiling.

“I did, didn’t I?” She
was obviously pleased by her first attempt at flower arranging.
“Now what do we do?”

“It’s time for linens,
dishes, silverware, and glasses.” We started by dressing the long,
narrow table with a blue damask cloth and napkins. Once the last
little candle lantern was tucked next to the salt and pepper
shakers, we stepped back to admire our handiwork.

“We should include this
in our wedding brochure,” my teenage assistant decided. “Who
wouldn’t want to come here?”

“That’s a good idea.” I
took several photos of the room, including a few of the furry
feline napping on one of the chairs. Scrub Oak looked utterly at
home as he lounged, one paw outstretched, as if to beckon
prospective visitors to give the inn a try.

Just before eleven, I
pulled the chocolate cake from the freezer and assembled it.
Slicing the layers in half, I spread the mousse on top of each and
stacked them on a cardboard cake circle. I beat the white chocolate
frosting until it was smooth, and with my pastry tube filled, I was
ready to decorate. Carefully piping the frosting over the luscious
dark chocolate masterpiece, I covered every inch of that cake with
ruffles of white. Before the frosting set, I topped it with the two
little birds the ladies found at the party store. Satisfied that it
was safe from harm in a plastic cake box, I tucked it into the
refrigerator. Tomorrow, just before serving, I would place it on a
crystal platter.

I took a break and
finished getting the third floor suite ready. Jenny and I had moved
our own things temporarily into an attic storage room, leaving the
closets and dressers empty for the wedding guests. Once the bed
linens were changed and the guest baskets were on their respective
tables, I carried the two suitcases that she and I had packed down
to the second floor for our temporary stay in Lacey’s
room.

Since the wedding
dinner was to be shrimp cocktail, spring greens with raspberry
vinaigrette, filet mignons with béarnaise sauce, roasted asparagus,
and mashed potatoes, I planned to do a lighter meal for Friday’s
gathering. Lemon-honey chicken was the bride’s choice, so I
concocted my marinade and let the chicken bathe in it while I
assembled a spinach salad.

Laurel was in the
living room, putting together another batch of background music for
the cocktail party and dinner hour tonight. When I heard Frank
Sinatra sing about flying to the moon to play among the stars, I
felt like I too could soar. This wedding business was heavenly. A
few more photographs of the garden and the rooms would seal the
deal for our website. How many weddings could we reasonably do in
one month? By my estimation, the number was two or
three.

By the time my mother
had Tony Bennett crooning that love was lovelier the second time
around, I was positively giddy, thinking once Bur moved out of the
carriage house, we could transform it into a charming honeymoon
cottage. I should have known my luck wouldn’t last. It couldn’t
last. There were too many dark forces at work behind the
scenes.

Two loads of laundry
later, I was ready to take the dogs for a hike through the woods. I
let my mind wander as I followed the meandering path through the
laurels and wild dogwoods, past the vernal pond where the frogs lay
their eggs, and up to the rock cliffs, doing a mental inventory of
wedding preparations. The dogs had no trouble keeping up with me,
despite my quick pace. I made it all the way to the top of the
summit, crossed the old carriage road by the ruins of an ancient
hut, and then descended on one of the front trails, where I left
the public park and passed by Wallace’s house on the way back to
the inn.

The path was shared by
the Googins girls and Myrtle as commonly held land. How would they
feel about adding a bench or two along the way, perfect for resting
in the shade on a hot day? And what about a small picnic pavilion,
perfect for a basket lunch or an intimate wedding ceremony? I felt
invigorated as I reached the grounds of the inn.

“That ought to tide you
two over for a few hours,” I told them as we came up to the back of
the house. My gaze took in the sight of the sun porch door swinging
gently in the light breeze. “Look at that. Bur must have left it
open. Just what I don’t need -- flies in the
kitchen!”

I got as far as the
steps when my mouth dropped wide open. The sun porch looked like it
had been hit by a tornado. “No!”

The beautifully set
table was in shambles. The wicker basket was now upended and the
flowers were strewn all over the floor, along with banged up
lanterns, shattered plates, and shards of glass that had once been
water goblets. For a brief moment, I thought about blaming the cat,
but Scrub Oak was nowhere to be seen. Had Kradic and Zarelli gotten
bail?

The dining room seemed
untouched by the malevolent powers that seemed to have invaded the
Four Acorns Inn. I hurried down the hallway to check on my
mother.

The living room was
empty, but undisturbed. I glanced out the window at the spot where
Lacey usually parked her car. It was empty. “Maybe the Googins
girls went out.”

I went to the foot of
the stairs. “Jenny? Have you seen Laurel?”

A loud thump caught my
attention. With my hand on the banister, I paused, listening
carefully. It sounded like someone was up there. Was it my
assistant or my mother? A terrible thought struck me. Had Laurel
fallen? Dashing up the steps, I rushed to her bedroom. The door was
open. “Mom?”

I stepped into the room
just as a text pinged on my cell phone. That would have to wait. I
crossed the room and entered the bathroom. “Are you in
here?”

I got no answer to my
question, but I noticed the shower curtain was drawn tight. Perhaps
Laurel didn’t hear me. I tried again. “Mom, are you
okay?”

There was still no
reply. Nor was the water running. Had Laurel slipped on the tile
floor and hit her head? Now my heart was racing as I pulled the
fabric to one side, terrified of what I would find. I forced myself
to look.

A sudden movement
inside the stall surprised me. There was barely enough time to
flinch before the bottle of Pantene bounced off my forehead and a
pair of hands gave me a rough shove backwards. I struggled to
remain on my feet. “Mom? It’s me!”

It’s funny how the
brain works. Even as my mind was taking in the sight of the figure
in front of me, it registered the fact that this woman was at least
a head taller than Laurel, decades younger, and much more
aggressive. A part of me realized that there were other
differences, like the hair color was wrong and the woman was fully
clothed. But by that time I found myself being pummeled
mercilessly, and as I tried to evade the blows, they seemed to
follow me everywhere. I cowered, sinking lower and lower towards
the floor, until I was curled into a knee-hugging ball of human
flesh and bone. Much to my horror, I saw a high-heeled foot pull
back and swing towards me. By that time, the shock of yet another
intrusion at the Four Acorns Inn had worn off and I was already
moving forward, hurling my body at my assailant.

“Oh, hell no!” I
hollered as I connected with the skinny maniac now bouncing against
the tiled surface. “How dare you!”

Every woman has a limit
of what she can and will tolerate when it comes to nonsense. I had
reached mine. By this time, adrenaline was pumping through my
veins, energizing me with some kind of delusional super power. I
pulled my right fist back and aimed it at my assailant with a
ferocity that shocked me with its primitiveness. I was damned if I
was going to lose this fight.

Chapter Twenty Two --

“Scarlet!”

My fury at being
assaulted sent so much blood rushing to my head, I didn’t recognize
Max’s voice right away. I just kept punching Karin Frenlind as I
pinned her against the shower wall.

“Whoa!” Hands grabbed
me from behind and sent me into a total state of panic. “It’s okay
to stop, Scar. We’ve got this!”

“Geez, she’s strong,”
Max told Kenny.

“All the more reason
not to get on her bad side,” he replied. “She’s on automatic pilot.
Give her a moment to come to her senses.”

It took me more than a
couple of minutes to pull myself together. As the proverbial dust
settled and my brain began to work again, I slowly recognized my
surroundings and the people present in the overly crowded
bathroom.

“Let’s go,” a uniformed
cop, squeezing past me, said to Karin.

“She invited me here
and then went after me!” howled the deceitful party doyenne as she
was removed from the shower enclosure. “She’s
crazy!”

Horrified that anyone
would believe her, I hollered, “I did no such
thing!”

Glancing up at Kenny,
hoping for reassurance, I saw that he was grinning like the cat
that caught the proverbial rat. He flashed me a thumbs-up
sign.

“She set me up!”
Karin’s protests just got wilder. “She’s trying to ruin my
business!”

“What?” I couldn’t
believe my ears. “That’s...that’s...
poppycock
!”

It was amazing how
quickly Karin rebounded. She haughtily straightened her tight
pencil skirt over her bony derriere and shook her silk-draped
shoulders, as if to brush me off. And then she had the audacity to
point a finger at me. “I won’t stand for this kind of unethical
behavior from a competitor. I want to press charges against
her.”