Murder of a Wedding Belle (11 page)

Skye gestured to Wally. “This is my assistant, Walter. Would you like us to wait somewhere until you’re ready?”

“No.” Angela sank stiffly into a chair and motioned Skye and Wally to sit on the matching settee. “Since I had to postpone my plans when you called and insisted on seeing me, I’d prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“Who were you expecting?”

“Excuse me?” Angela’s expression was abruptly guarded. “How is that your business?”

“Just curious.” Darn. Skye had hoped the woman would let something slip.

“That can be a career-limiting trait in this business.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Skye struggled to regain control of the conversation. “Anyway, as I explained on the phone, I’m the new bridal planner for the Jordan-Erickson wedding.” She paused. It was odd that not one of the businesspeople she’d talked to had asked what had happened to Belle. “And as you may recall, I’m meeting with all the vendors to bring myself up to speed.”

“Yes. I’m not so ancient that I can’t remember a conversation that took place less than four hours ago.”

“Of course not.” Skye wondered why the linen consultant was so prickly. “So, where are we with the linens?”

“I just went over this with Belle Saturday afternoon,” Angela complained. “Can’t you get the information you need from her or her notes?”

“I prefer to start fresh and make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Fine.” The woman glanced nervously at the door. “The bride has selected gold satin tablecloths. They are finished and ready to be transported.”

“Then you have them in your possession?”

“I just said I did.” Angela smoothed a wrinkle near her eyelid with her pinky. “You seem to think that because I’m a few years older than you, I’m not in full possession of my faculties.”

Skye ignored the woman’s touchiness and asked, “How about the pink lace overlays?”

“They’re coming today. They had to be hand beaded to match the design on the bride’s train.”

“What else has arrived?”

“The napkins, but I’m still waiting on the napkin treatments.” At Skye’s blank look, Angela explained, “The pink lace bows that the spray of miniature orchids will be tucked into.”

“When do you expect them?” Skye felt a quaver of alarm shoot up her spine. “You realize that you have a failure-to-fulfill clause in your contract?”

“Of course I do.” Angela blew out a puff of exasperation. “They had to be specially dyed to match the bridesmaids’ dresses, which took a bit longer than planned. But they’ll be here tomorrow or the next day. Guaranteed.”

“Good.” Skye studied her notes. This might be an interrogation, but she still had to make sure everything was ready for the wedding. “How about the chair covers and sashes?”

“We couldn’t get five hundred of the moiré fabric the bride wanted.” Angela’s tone was wary. “But Belle approved the chiffon substitution.”

“Did Riley agree?”

“I assume so.” Angela’s expression was hard to read. “I have Belle’s signature, so if the bride is unhappy, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“May I see it, please?” Skye had worked in public education too long to take anyone’s word for anything. No “the dog ate my homework” excuses for her.

Angela shook her head in disgust. “I’ll get the file.”

When linen consultant left the room, Skye whispered to Wally, “What do you think?”

“Try to draw this out. I’d like to find out who she thought I was when we first came in.”

“Okay.” Skye wasn’t sure how to stall. “But I have to be at the dress shop by four.”

“Don’t worry.” Angela’s aqua blue eyes were sharp as she returned with the paper Skye had requested. “We’ll be done long before then.”

Yikes!
How much had Angela overheard? Skye recovered. “I was talking about tomorrow. We have plenty of time today.”

Angela tucked a strand of long blond hair behind her ear. “But I don’t.”

Skye studied the letter of agreement. “I see Belle did consent to the substitution.” She looked up. “Have the chair covers arrived?”

“Yes. They got here a couple of days ago, and the rhinestone clips for the sashes came yesterday.”

“Great. I’d like to take a look at them and the tablecloths, since you have them both.”

Angela opened her mouth to object, then gave an irritated shrug. “Back here.”

Skye took as long as possible examining the supplies, but finally she had to finish. She had less than half an hour to get to the dress shop.

As she and Wally walked to the door, she said to Angela, “I noticed the linens are costing us forty-three thousand and your fee is twelve thousand, so I can expect my check to be two thousand seven hundred and fifty, correct?”

“I was hoping that deal was off now that Belle is out of the picture.” Angela’s lips formed a bitter line.

Skye shrugged. “Well, if everything is perfect, it’s possible that I might waive my commission.”

Angela’s expression was skeptical as she looked Skye in the eye. “Anything is possible if you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Huh?
Skye glanced at Wally to see whether he understood Angela’s parting shot, but he appeared equally confused. Maybe she meant that perfection was impossible to achieve.

Skye nervously checked her watch as Wally drove her to the dress shop. Riley would have a cow if she was late, and, worse, Anita would be on the phone complaining to May before Skye could say a word. Too bad they didn’t have Wally’s police car. They could really use the lights and siren about now.

While they were stopped at a red light, Wally asked, “What’s your impression of Angela Beckman?”

“As a psychologist, I’d say she has age issues.” Skye wrinkled her nose. “Which is not unusual in our youth-oriented society.”

“I noticed a couple references to her not being
that
old. Anything else you picked up on?”

“The outfit she was wearing was too young for me, let alone someone twenty years older than I am. And that Alice in Wonderland hairstyle . . .”

“It did seem like something you’d see on a teenager, but, hey, I don’t keep up with the latest hairdos.” The signal turned green and Wally put the Thunderbird into gear. “Do you think that means anything?”

Skye considered the question. “This is purely a guess, but the wedding industry deals primarily with twenty- to thirty-something brides.”

“And?”

“And according to the clippings in Belle’s file, Angela has been the leading linen consultant in Chicago for a long time, but she’s gotten a lot less press over the past year or so.” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “Maybe her ideas have gotten out of date.”

“Yeah. Everyone’s always looking for the next big thing,” Wally agreed.

“But working a platinum wedding like Riley’s could put her back on top.”

“Which means Belle could make or break her career.”

Skye gasped as a pedestrian darted in front of the car, then, when she could speak again, said, “What I’m confused about is that it appears Belle was shaking down all the vendors. If her father’s so wealthy, why would she need to do that? In fact, why would she even be working?”

“Maybe she wants to be independent and earn her own living.” Wally slowed as brake lights flashed in front of them. “You know, show she’s not just another spoiled rich kid.”

“Or, and this fits better with her personality, she wants to be famous in her own right. Be the celebrity wedding planner she claimed to be.” Skye recalled Belle’s jealousy of Paris Hilton. “But she still wants to live in the style to which she has grown accustomed.”

“If I ever get to talk to her parents, I’ll ask them.” Wally double-parked in front of the dress store. “So, who do you think the linen lady mistook me for?”

“I wonder. She sure was nervous about whoever she was expecting.” Skye shrugged. “Maybe it was Dr. Botox or someone bringing her the newest fountain-of-youth pill.”

“Or the hit man she hired to off Belle coming to collect his fee.” A horn blew and Wally said, “Call me when you’re finished here and I’ll come pick you up.” They had agreed that he would tackle the DJ on his own while Skye attended the dress fittings.

“Okay.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck.”

“You, too.”

Skye watched the Thunderbird disappear into afternoon traffic, then reluctantly crossed the sidewalk and pulled open the door to the shop.

She’d barely stepped inside when Riley threw herself into Skye’s arms and sobbed. “You’ve got to do something.” The young woman’s beautiful face was contorted, and streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks. “She isn’t here and she’s going to ruin everything.”

Dressing the Part

S
kye guided her hysterical cousin through the deserted main showroom to a white velvet love seat in the rear of the salon. Once they were seated, she heard high-pitched voices coming from behind the back wall and guessed the other women were hiding from the furious bride.

“Natasha sent a message that she’s not coming today,” Riley howled, and collapsed next to Skye. “She says she found a dress in California she likes better, and she isn’t wearing the one I picked, so there’s no need to be here for the fitting.”

Skye had already guessed that Riley’s future stepmother-in-law was the cause of the problem, and putting her arm around the distraught blonde, she asked, “Does it really matter that she won’t be dressed the way you want?”

“Yes!” Riley wailed, tears welling up again. “You don’t know her. I’m sure she picked a gown that isn’t in the color palette I’ve selected, and, no doubt, one that will put the spotlight on her instead of me.”

“No one can outshine you.” Skye dug in her tote bag, pushing aside a notebook, a canister of pepper spray, and her cell phone, until she found a packet of tissues. Handing one to Riley, she soothed, “We can’t force her to wear the dress you chose, but we can make sure she’s not in any of the pictures, except the ones of the family, and I can put her table at the reception out of the lighted area. Does that sound like a solution?”

“No.” Riley blew her nose. “I have a better idea.” The dewy young girl suddenly turned into a scheming vixen. “I want you to spill a glass of something hideous on her before the ceremony. Then we’ll happen to have the original dress I chose available, and unless she wants to spend the day with a giant stain across her chest, she’ll just have to wear it.”

Skye opened her mouth to protest, but the look in her cousin’s eye stopped her, and instead she said, “Fine.” There was no way she was spilling a drink on Natasha. Skye could only hope that on the day of the wedding, Riley would be too preoccupied to notice. “Shouldn’t we start our fittings now?”

“Right.” Riley sniffed, and then nodded. “I won’t let that awful woman ruin my day.”

“Thatta girl.” Skye paused. “By the way, since I’m new to the business, is it customary for the wedding consultant to meet with the groom by himself or only with the bride and groom as a couple?”

“Well, I don’t know what’s customary”—Riley stood, wiping away the last of her tears—“but my friends told me never to let Nick and Belle meet without me. Not that I would ever leave Nick alone with a gorgeous girl like Belle anyway. Though, if you want to talk to him without me, feel free.” Apparently not realizing she had just insulted Skye, Riley took her cousin’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “Now, let’s go have some fun. I love trying on clothes, don’t you?”

“Sure.” Skye wrapped her arms around herself. “Who doesn’t?” The store was freezing, which was good. Didn’t objects contract in the cold? Maybe the low temperature would help her fit into her dress. She just prayed it wouldn’t take butter and a miracle to get the zipper up.

“Wait until you see what I picked for you all to wear,” Riley squealed. “It’s fabulous.”

Skye shuddered. Since her cousin’s bridesmaids were from different geographical areas, and Riley had chosen the bridesmaids’ dresses without them, she’d had the women phone in their measurements. So this was the first time anyone other than the bride would see her selection.

Undaunted by Skye’s silence, Riley chattered on, “Madam Olga says these dresses are the hottest style this season, and they flatter any figure.”

“And I bet we can use them again after the big day, right?” Skye had been in enough weddings to know all the platitudes that brides and dress-shop owners used to persuade the bridesmaids to pay big bucks for hideous ensembles.

“Why would you want to do that?” Riley blinked. “Everyone will have seen you in it already.”

“Of course.” Skye hid a smile. “How gauche of me.”

Skye followed Riley, intent on getting through the fittings as fast as possible. When they entered the waiting area, Riley’s mother and grandmother were seated on matching armchairs, while Tabitha and Paige shared a sofa. Hallie was curled up on a settee all by herself, looking miserable. Skye speculated that the girl had trouble functioning without her twin.