Don't Forget Me (18 page)

Wonder shrugged. “I’ll get Judge Alaniz. He owes me. I came in on the weekend to fix his broken molar.”

“You’ll need to get the license.”

“We can do that next week,” he said quickly. “I’ll put it on my calendar.”

“I don’t know if I can—” Allie began.

“You can,” Wonder said flatly. “What else?”

“Okay. Attendants?” Kit checked back and forth between them.

Wonder nodded. “Already taken care of. Cal and Docia on lead, the rest of the Toleffsons on backup.”

“Right. So they’ll take care of the bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

“Parties?” Allie gasped.

“They’ll take care of them,” Kit repeated more firmly. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Anything else?” Wonder raised an eyebrow.

“The wedding cake. And the groom’s cake.” Kit turned to Allie. “That’s you, Aunt Allie. Nobody else would dare.”

“Oh god,” Allie whispered. “They’ve got to be perfect. When will I have time to plan it?”

“This weekend,” Wonder said firmly.

Allie stared up at him.

“Think about it. The shop won’t be open again until next week. Denny can oversee the bread for the restaurants and you’ve already done the stuff for the B and B’s. You’ve got time to sit and design cakes while the cleaning crew takes care of whatever the hell that bastard did to Sweet Thing.”

Allie blew out a long breath. “You’ve got a point.”

“Of course I do.” Wonder topped off her glass. “I’ve also got a lot more wine where this came from. Maybe by the time you’ve finished the bottle, I’ll have convinced you that bride and groom statuettes based on
Battlestar Galactica
aren’t really that weird. Plus I’ve got some definite ideas about that groom’s cake.”

“Oh Steve, not German chocolate,” Allie groaned.

“I’m flexible.” Wonder shrugged. “Black forest also works. C’mon, grab some pizza and we’ll head over to my place.”

Allie sighed, pushing herself to her feet. “Just let me get my drawing pad and we can go.” She headed down the hall toward her office.

Wonder turned to Kit. “Nice going, kid. I’m beginning to believe this is actually going to happen. After the world’s longest engagement.”

“Look, I hate to bring this up, but does she actually have a wedding dress?” Kit murmured. “Or bridesmaid dresses?”

Wonder sighed. “I knew it was too good to last. I don’t think she’s actually done anything about that. Can’t she just wear something she’s got? I mean she’s got all these dresses already—wouldn’t one of them be okay as a wedding dress?”

Kit narrowed her eyes.

“No, no,” he said hurriedly. “Of course not. I’ll see if I can find a way to work the question in this weekend.”

Allie’s footsteps sounded in the hall as Kit shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got an idea. Leave it to me.”

“Gladly.” Wonder turned as Allie stepped back into the room again. “Come on, cupcake, let’s head back to the ranch.”

Allie sighed. “Don’t call me cupcake, okay? Right now I feel more like a piece of flatbread.” But she gave Kit a slightly tremulous smile as they headed out the front door.

Kent’s Hill Country Books reopened on Saturday. Nando had to hand it to Docia—she’d found a way to make sure the place would be packed even if she wasn’t serving cake and cookies. She’d landed a signing by an Austin historian who specialized in writing spicy chronicles of Texas. He had a new book about a notorious brothel located midway between Konigsburg and Marble Falls that was guaranteed to attract both locals and tourists, the tourists to read about the racy past and the locals to see if any of their relatives showed up in the anecdotes.

Janie Toleffson kept an eye on the book-signing table, while Docia ran the cash register. Nando saw a fair number of copies going out the door. Briefly, he wondered if he ought to pick up a copy for his mom, but then decided against it. His dad would probably scalp him if he did, given the number of Avrogados who undoubtedly studded the index.

He waited for a lull in the traffic at the register, then leaned against the wall beside it. “Looks like you’ve got a hit.”

“Yeah, he’s selling a lot of copies. Of course some people may try returning them when they find out Uncle Joe didn’t make it into the list of the madame’s customers.” Docia flashed him a quick smile. “You want a copy, Nando? I’d even let you check the index first.”

“Don’t tempt me. My ancestors were probably regulars.” He grinned in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

Apparently, it wasn’t reassuring enough. Docia’s smile faded slightly. “So what do you need to ask me? You’re not in uniform, but I assume it’s something to do with the break-in.”

He sighed. “It’s my day off. I talked to Janie last week, but I wanted to talk to you. Particularly now that Allie’s been hit too.”

Docia’s jaw tightened. “I heard. You think it’s the same person?”

“Seems likely. We haven’t had a lot of vandalism around here up to now.”

“So what do you want to know?”

“Mostly if you have any ideas about who could be behind this. Anybody who’s got a grudge against you and Allie, say. Disgruntled customers, teenagers you threw out for messing up the merchandise, people who don’t like your taste in books, former employees, anybody like that.”

Docia shook her head. “I guess I’ve lived a pretty bland life. I mean Dub Tyler might be pissed over that map of his I gave to the historical society, but they decided it was possibly counterfeit anyway so it wasn’t worth as much as he thought it was. Besides, he moved to Dripping Springs after that whole thing with Brody.” She sighed. “That’s the only scary thing that’s every happened to me—the thing with Brody. And I don’t know how it could have any connection to this. Sorry, Nando.”

“Right.” Nando nodded slowly. “I kind of figured it was a long-shot, but I thought I’d ask anyway. If anything occurs to you…”

“I’ll tell you. Or Erik.” She gave him a quick smile, then glanced at something over his shoulder, her eyes widening.

Nando turned. Kit was standing behind him. “Oh. Hi,” he blurted.

“Hi.” She licked her lips, then turned quickly. “Have you got a minute, Docia? I’ve got a favor to ask.”

Docia gave her another smile. “Sure. But I have to stay here in case we get more people buying brothel books.”

Kit blinked, then refocused. “Oh. Okay. I wanted to ask you if you’d give a shower for Allie.”

“Sure.” Docia shrugged. “I’d planned on it anyway. Is there some kind of problem?”

“Not exactly. But I had a sort of special shower in mind.”

“Okay, now you’ve got my complete attention.” Docia beckoned to Janie, still standing near the historian’s elbow, although he didn’t appear to need any help. “Let’s head back to the storeroom for a minute.” She gave Nando a quick smile. “Unless you’ve got anything else you need to ask me.”

He shook his head. “Not right now.”

“Okay, then, lead on. This sounds like more fun than anything else I’ve talked about in a while.”

He watched the two women walk away toward the door at the side, Docia’s fiery red hair followed by Kit’s sleek black curls. Something inside his chest tightened painfully.
Enough already.

“Want a book, Nando? Guaranteed to hold your interest until you finish checking the index.” Janie gave him a smile that seemed almost sympathetic.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Not today, thanks. Maybe I’ll give it to my dad for Christmas, as long as I’ve got a good head start.”

He heard Janie’s chuckle behind him as he headed out the door.

Chapter Eleven

Saturdays at the Woodrose were always hectic. The guests who came in for the three-day weekend packages were out trying to get their money’s worth, soaking in the spa the inn had a contract with, playing nine holes of golf on the private course where the inn had privileges, and, of course, sampling the cuisine. The Rose had gotten a good review in the
Dallas Morning News
that brought a lot of people in from the surrounding motels as well as their own guests. Kit spent the morning answering the phone to take reservations in the restaurant for lunch, as well as dealing with minor emergencies in housekeeping that were usually Mabel’s business. Mabel herself was apparently off supervising the set-up for a wedding in the event center. Kit wasn’t sure when she’d become responsible for managing the inn when the real manager was missing, but everybody seemed to accept it as a given.

Around ten Mr. Didrikson, the gardener, waylaid her in the lobby, gray hair bristling. “Where’s Morgenstern? I got a load of fertilizer I need her to sign off on.”

“She’s down at the event center until two,” Kit explained. “Why don’t you call her?”

“Tried that. She’s not answering her phone.”

Kit punched in the numbers for Mabel’s cell without a lot of hope. If she was screening Didrikson’s calls, she’d probably be even less likely to take Kit’s. After five rings, Kit left a message on the voice mail, then turned back to the gardener. “I don’t know what’s going on. She’s not answering me either.”

“So? You can sign instead.”

Kit shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the authority to do that.”

“Ah for Christ’s sake,” Didrikson growled. “Took me a week to get her to agree to the order. Now she won’t pay? Pretty soon nobody’s gonna deliver out here.”

He was, of course, absolutely right, but that didn’t mean she could get away with signing for an order. “Look, go down to the event center. Mabel’s got to be there—there’s a wedding going on. Just tell her to sign the invoice. She’ll want to get you out of there, believe me.” Considering Didrikson’s grass-stained jeans and work shirt, Mabel would probably sign anything he shoved her way if it meant she could shoo him out the door.

Didrikson shot her a surprisingly sharp glance. “Might work. Thanks.”

“Sure.” Kit blew out a breath and went back to answering the phone.

Every table in the restaurant was full for lunch. Elaine was practically in tears. So were her customers. Philip’s glares darkened to thunderous as the afternoon went on. The only thing that hadn’t gotten the highest rating in the last review had been service, and Kit could see why. She poured, soothed, cleared, and brought orders from the kitchen in between crossing off reservations and refusing the not-very-subtle bribes she was offered to move people up the waiting list.

She gritted her teeth as she surveyed the room. Somehow she had to get Mabel to hire more wait staff. And soon.

By three the room was clear again and Gabriel ran the vacuum sweeper to gather up the last crumbs. Kit collapsed into a booth. At least the reservation pressure should die down since the Rose was closed on Sundays. On the other hand, she’d already begun to pick up some reservations for Monday. At least the food was a rousing success. After a moment, Joe thumped down across from her.

“Here,” he said, extending a plate with a chicken Panini and a glass of tea, “eat.”

She shook her head. “I’m too tired. I’ll eat when I finish the reservations.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying her, then shook his head. “Nope. Sorry,
too tired to eat
doesn’t work for me.” He took hold of her hand, pulling her up from the booth as he picked up the sandwich. “Come on. Bring the tea.”

Kit didn’t have the strength to argue. She followed him out the French doors to the patio where Didrikson or somebody else had set up a group of umbrella tables. Joe pulled out a chair for her, then plopped down beside her. “Now, take a breath, look at the view.”

The green lawn that Didrikson had mowed into velvet rolled down to the white gravel road below. On the olive-colored hills across the valley she saw cattle grazing, moving slowly along the limestone outcroppings. Her shoulders seemed to loosen.

“Now—” Joe handed her the sandwich again, “—eat.”

She did. The chicken was still faintly warm from the press. Slices of Emmentaler were melted against sliced pears. Kit closed her eyes. “This is heavenly.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far, but it worked. At least we got Allie’s bread today.” Joe leaned back in his chair, staring out across the valley.

“She’s got her kitchen back but nothing else is ready to open yet. The professionals are going to clean up this weekend. I think she said Tuesday for the reopening.”

“Don’t suppose they’ve figured out who the asshole was who did it?”

Kit shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard. And I would have heard—everybody would have.” She took another bite, then managed to stop herself from gobbling, but it wasn’t easy.

Joe grinned. “Take your time, darlin’. There’s more where that came from, believe me.”

“I didn’t have much breakfast, and there wasn’t time to grab anything during lunch today. It was a madhouse.”

“Yeah.” His face darkened. “You talk to Mabel about hiring more people?”

“I meant to, but I got sidetracked with the wedding and then the break-in. Plus she wasn’t around all morning.”

“Time to do it, then. I’ve seen the restaurant receipts. I’m pretty sure we can afford another waiter and a second busboy. Hell, we can afford more than that.” He glanced down at her almost-empty plate. “What else can I do for you, darlin’?”