MURDER at the ALTAR (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 3) (3 page)

              Observing Sterling from afar all afternoon had put her on edge. It wasn’t the way he worked the crime scene that had unnerved her, but his ability to ignore her entirely for hours on end. Several times he’d entered the sitting room where she’d been waiting with the Downeys and Cartwrights, and each time their eyes never met. When he’d spoken with Gretchen, she’d remained on the sitting-room couch. Kitty had been not four feet away and within Sterling’s line of sight, and he maintained zero eye contact throughout. It’s not that Kitty
needed
acknowledgment, not in the moment anyway. She’d held her own and did what she could to keep the families in good spirits considering the bizarre circumstance, but as she approached La Luna in time for her eight o’clock date, she realized the events of the day were now impacting her strangely. She felt awkward about meeting Sterling. She couldn’t take the cold shoulder any longer.

              Kitty stepped into the Mexican restaurant. She scanned the tables, as she approached the hostess stand, but it was too crowded to pick Sterling out of the fray.

              “I’m meeting someone,” she told the hostess, hoping he’d see her and come over.

              “Do you know if there’s a reservation?” The hostess was ready with the reservation book.

              “Slaughter?”

              “Hmm, no I don’t have it,” she said. “You’re welcome to take a look around.”

              Kitty scanned the restaurant one last time and felt certain he wasn’t there.

              “I’ll take a table for two. When Sterling Slaughter gets here, could you send him over?”

              “Of course,” said the hostess, gathering two menus and a cocktail list. “Right this way.”

              The restaurant was spacious yet nearly every table was occupied. The hostess invited her to sit at a square table nestled between two tall, potted cacti. As Kitty lowered into the chair that faced the entrance, the hostess asked if she’d like the La Luna Margarita. Not quite grasping the question since Sterling and dark grains were on her mind, Kitty merely smiled and gave the hostess a quick nod.

              Kitty debated visiting the ladies room to give herself the once over. She hadn’t had time to stop off at home once she’d been released from the mansion. She’d barely had time to swing by Happily Ever After and file the contract for the mansion and make all the subsequent arrangements with the caterer and florist, informing them of the wedding location and getting all her ducks in a row. But she was apprehensive about leaving the table.

              A waiter appeared and set her Margarita on the table, which she stared at, alarmed. The thing was the size of a birdbath, bright green with an assortment of plastic flamingos, monkeys, and twisty straws shooting out of it. If she slouched she wouldn’t be able to see over the top of it and know when Sterling arrived.

              “Hiding?” he asked, stalking toward the table as a grin spread across his rugged face.

              “I had no idea it’d be this big,” she said, marginally embarrassed. “You’ll have to drink it with me.”

              Sterling pulled out his chair and sat then inched the Margarita goblet to the inner side of the table so that it was equidistant.

              “So,” Kitty began awkwardly. “How was your day?”

              His brows drifted up and his smile turned peculiar.

              “Same old.”

              He plucked one of the straws and angled it to his mouth so Kitty took up the other and drank with him. As she did, she became suddenly paranoid, unsure if he was sipping because he was a fan of the cocktail, or as a means to avoid any discussion about what had transpired back at the mansion.

              “Look,” she said, dropping her tone to a serious level. “You know I’m going to ask you what’s going on...”

              Sterling swallowed, leaning back in his chair and planting both hands on his thighs, and then eyed her.
Ok, so he wasn’t going to make this easy.

              “What happened to Marcus’? Why were you called in?”

              He took a deep breath then held it. He didn’t look at her when his brows knitted, the byproduct of thorough consideration.

              “Kitty,” he said, and then again fell into deep consideration. “You’re distracting.”

             
That was it? Just one blanket statement?
She waited on baited breath for further explanation.

              “It took way too much effort and energy for me to focus.”

              “How’s that my fault?”

              “It’s not.” He stirred the Margarita with his straw, not that it needed it, and then leaned forward and pulled a long sip. When he leaned back again he told her, “You have this effect on me. And... Let’s just say I need you to stay out of the way.”

              “I was staying out of the way.”

              “You know what I mean.”

              Did she?

              “It’s not your shortcoming. It’s mine. I just need you to stay out of my way.”

              She took a deep breath and gave him silent credit for treading lightly. She knew Sterling and she knew he thought she’d get in the way if she weren't there already.

              “I was only asking about your day, Sterling. It’s a common question. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Disappointment rose up in her chest. He’d put a wall up, and if she tried to break it down, he’d resent her.

              “Alright, well...” He pushed the Margarita back to her side of the table. “This is too sweet for me.” He raised his hand, garnishing the waiter’s attention. “I think we should make a pact.”

              “What kind of pact?” she asked, but the waiter arrived and Sterling took his time ordering a double whiskey on the rocks.

              It wasn’t until the waiter strolled all the way to the other side of the restaurant that Sterling resumed his idea.

              “When it comes to these kinds of cases,” he went on. “I think we should have a pact. You don’t ask and I don’t tell. Let’s keep our two lives separate.”

              “Keep my life separate from yours?” Her heart was sinking.
Is he breaking up with me?

              “No, I mean keep our work lives separate from our personal ones. I’m not shutting you out.”

             
But he was.

              “I just mean on cases like this.”

              “Cases where someone in my wedding party gets killed,” she supplied.

              “Right.” Sterling kept his gaze trained on the waiter, as he crossed back through the restaurant and deposited Sterling’s drink in front of him. Kitty was getting sick of these interruptions, but held her tongue.

              “Have an idea what you’d like?” he asked, poised with his note pad to take their order.

              “We need more time,” she said with an apologetic wince.

              “Anyway, if we can just keep the case out of our conversations...”

              “You don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you?”

              “No, not at all,” Sterling assured her. “And Officer Colt got your statement. He’ll circle back if he has any other questions.”

              “But you won’t?”

              “No, if I need to know anything else I’ll have him contact you.”

              Kitty tried to wrap her head around the proposed dynamic then realized it wasn’t a proposition. It was a demand that wasn’t up for discussion. He was being reasonable, but it still stung.

              “Can you do that for me?” he pressed.

              “Well...” The urge to argue was nagging. “The families are going to have questions.”

              “I’m not talking about the families. I’m talking about us. You don’t ask, and I don’t tell. You can gossip all you like with the families.”

             
Gossip?

              “For the record,” she started in a stern tone. “You wouldn’t have solved those other cases had it not been for me.”

              He laughed at that, which only compelled her to argue further.

              “I found something that might interest you,” she said, meaning to sound intriguing.

              “I doubt that.” He placed both hands on the table, palms down as if to take control of the conversation. “I’m asking you to stay out of it for the sake of our relationship. Can’t you see that?”

              Indignantly, Kitty extracted the Ziploc bag of dark grains from her purse and set it on the table.

              “I know you think Marcus was poisoned—”

              “Kitty—”

              “You had every officer inspecting those tea bags on the silver tray as well as the teacup he drank from—”

              “Kitty, come on—”

              “Marcus was the only one who drank all his tea. It was Earl Grey, did you know that? No, of course you don’t know that. You won’t for another two or three days when some guy in a lab gives you a call. I know things, Sterling.”

              He didn’t interrupt again, but he was shaking his head as if he was at a total loss. It didn’t give her a very good feeling, quite the opposite in fact. But she was relentless.

              “No one checked the kitchen, but I did. That’s where I found these.” She held up the bag of dark grains. “I didn’t drink any tea, but Gretchen did as well as her mother and they weren’t feeling well. I asked them how much they drank and it wasn’t more than a sip. What if they’d drunk all of their tea? Would they be dead?”

              Sterling stared at the bag. His eyes turned flat. He wasn’t amused.

              “Well?” Kitty demanded, expecting to be thanked or at the very least invited into his investigative mind.

              “Well, what?”

              She pressed her mouth into a frustrated line, snatched the Ziploc from the table and opened it. “I’m going to show you something,” she stated, pinched a few grains from the bag.

              When she opened her mouth to swallow them, Sterling yelled her name and grabbed her wrist.

              “What are you doing?”

              “I’m going to eat a few grains and prove to you that this is the poison that killed Marcus!”

              “Are you insane?”

              “You’re making me insane!”

              “Lower your voice for Christ’s sake.”

              “Tell me what you know or I’m doing it!”

              Kitty jerked her arm up, a desperate attempt to throw the grains in her mouth, but Sterling stopped her once and for all stealing the bag and slapping the grains from her fingers.

              “Those are mice droppings you idiot!”

              “Huh?”

              “You were about to eat rodent turd! What the hell is the matter with you?”

              “You’re kidding.”

              “Have you completely lost your mind? You hunted through a kitchen and collected a pile of mouse poop then threatened to eat it?”

             
Oh dear
.

              “Are you sure?”

              “Yes, I’m sure!”

              “Hmm, well, could that have killed Marcus?”

              “Give it up, Kitty! Just stop!”

              But she’d fallen into deep thought. “I suppose that would explain why Gretchen and Roberta looked ill...”

              “Oh, for God’s sake, Marcus wasn’t poisoned. It was his pacemaker.”

              Kitty leaned in, eyes growing large.

              “I shouldn’t have said that.”

              “Pacemaker? Then he died of natural causes...”

              “No, he didn’t.”

              “Why would someone so young have a pacemaker?”

              Sterling glared at her then rose to his feet.

              “I was really looking forward to spending time with you,” he said, staring down with regret. “I need to be alone tonight.”

              Kitty’s mouth dropped open, sadness and disappointment and guilt rising up in her chest.

              “Do yourself a favor—stay out of it.”

              “Sterling, I—”

              He held up a hand, stopping her. “I’m not doing this with you.”

              “But—”

              “Kitty,” he barked, cutting her off. “I hate to say this, but maybe we should take a break until I get through this case.”

              He didn’t wait for her to respond. He was already stalking through the restaurant, leaving her to weigh her priorities. Was satisfying her curiosity more important to her than Sterling?

              Kitty spilled through Trudy’s apartment door, but wasn’t met with her best friend.