Newlywed Dead (6 page)

My phone rang at nine
A.M.
the next morning. “Perfect Proposals, this is Pepper, how can I help you?”

“Hi, is this Pepper Pomeroy?”

“Yes,” I said. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I'm Sherry, Kelli's friend? She mentioned that you said I should call this morning.”

“Okay,” I said, then sat down and opened my event planning notebook.

“I'm not sure if you remember, but I'm the one who is pregnant and I wanted to propose to my boyfriend, William, and then tell him I'm pregnant.”

I sat back. “Yes, I remember,” I said, and made a note of her name and her boyfriend's name. “Sherry, can I have your last name?”

“Oh, sure, it's Burlingham, and my boyfriend is William Herald the Third.”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Oh, gosh, for at least three years.”

“And you're sure he isn't planning on asking you to marry him? Have you talked about it?”

“Oh, yes, we've talked about it,” she said. “But he joined the Air National Guard and then got called up into active duty. He flies jets. Anyway, I think he was thinking that we'd wait until after his tour of duty is up to get married. But then he came home two months ago on leave and one thing led to another . . .”

“Okay,” I said, with a smile and a nod. “These are just questions I ask right at the start. I need to get a good sense of the couple and their situation. I like to make sure that both parties are happy with where they are in their relationship and ready to take it to the next level.”

“I'm certain we're ready,” she said. “I think he'll be ecstatic to know I'm pregnant. He comes home this weekend and I think it would be great to welcome him with a surprise engagement. Don't you?”

My thoughts went to all the welcome home ceremonies I saw on television. “Yes, I think it will be.” I explained my fees and she reassured me that they could afford it and I was to spare no expense.

“Will didn't go into the service for the money or the college tuition,” she said. “His father and grandfather are huge supporters of the military and Will wanted to earn their respect. It's sort of a rite of passage with the Herald men.”

“Great. Do you have an idea or venue in mind?”

“Yes, Will is a big tough guy who is a kid at heart. I thought it would be fun to do it at F.A.O. Schwarz.”

“Oh, the one in Macy's downtown?”

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “I know the store manager, Eric Moore.”

“That sounds promising. Can we meet with Eric?”

“Yes,” she said. “He's willing to meet this afternoon, if you are. Can we meet at two
P.M
.?”

“I can do it,” I said, and wrote down the details. “This will be a lot of fun.”

“That's my hope,” she said. “I'll see you downtown.”

I hung up and went online to research the store and what kind of fun things we could do with the engagement. With less than a week to plan it, I might have to skip the engagement party after. I needed to find out more from Sherry about where their families were located and what kind of engagement party she might be interested in. I noted that Macy's had a tearoom on the top floor. I made a quick phone call to see if it might be available. It was as long as we used them to cater and the party wasn't more than fifty people.

A quick search of the Herald family told me that the party might be a bit bigger than fifty people. The Heralds had been rubbing elbows with Chicago elite since the Worth family dominated the social scene. I scoured the surrounding area and put in several phone calls for venues. The biggest part of proposal planning was the short amount of time you had to pull the event together. It was a challenge I liked.

My phone rang again at eleven
A.M
.

“Hi, Pepper, it's Laura Emmerson. We talked yesterday at your parents' brunch.”

“Oh, yes, Laura, hi,” I said, and snagged a pen and my event notebook. “How are you?”

“I'm well,” Laura said. “You said to call and make an appointment to talk about what you could do to help me propose to Monica.”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “I have free time this evening. Can you meet?”

“How about five
P.M
.?” she asked. “I'll leave work a little early and we can beat the dinner crowds.”

“Great, where do you work?”

“I work in Des Plaines. Can you meet me at Rosa's? It's close by and they have booths. Early evening means the lunch crowd should be long gone and the dinner crowd won't start for at least another hour. We should have plenty of privacy.”

“Sounds perfect,” I said, and made a note in my calendar as she hung up. I started a business file on Laura, with notes about what we had already talked about and possible ideas for her proposal. I did some basic research on Laura and Monica. Monica's Facebook page showed a happy woman with a genuine smile. There were a couple pictures of the two of them together. They looked very happy.

After a quick glance at the time I knew I had to get going. Researching people and venues and party ideas online always seemed to suck the time away. I ran a brush through my wild curly red hair and piled it in a loose knot
on the top of my head. Then I put mascara on my lashes to make it look like I had some and finished off the look with a pop of red lip color. I wore a black turtleneck sweater, a navy miniskirt with black tights, and knee-high boots. I grabbed my navy wool coat, wrapped a long multicolored scarf my mother had knitted me around my neck, grabbed my purse and tablet, and headed out.

Downtown traffic was always interesting, and it would take time to find a place to park.

My phone rang as I drove. I hit the button that connected it to the Bluetooth earpiece I wore. My car was a big old Buick I'd inherited from my grandmother. I loved Old Blue, but it was a bit of a boat. Which meant it was great in winter weather but a bear to park on the street. “Perfect Proposals, this is Pepper. How can I help you?”

“Pepper, Brad Hurst. I gave you my card on Saturday.”

I made a face as I wove through traffic on the Kennedy Expressway. “Hi, Brad. Yes, I remember. I thought I was supposed to call you. How did you get my number?”

“I asked Whitney. Look, I'm sure Jen made an impression on you,” he said with a laugh. “She doesn't usually drink so much, but she's had a bit of a tough go lately. Listen, I was wondering if we could set up a meeting tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I said, and grabbed my bag and dug out my notebook and pen as I slowed down in the inevitable bumper-to-bumper traffic that seemed to be perpetually going into or coming out of downtown. “I'm driving, but I have my appointment book open. What time works for you?”

“Jen and I are free to talk at two,” he said.

I wrote with my right hand and drove with my left. I slammed on the brakes when I glanced up and saw I was a bit close to the guy in front of me. “Okay, I've got a free spot at two
P.M
. Wait—you and Jen?”

“Yes, Jen insists on being a part of the planning.”

“But she wants to be surprised,” I said, and managed to weave Old Blue out of my lane and into the express lane. “How can she be surprised if she's part of the planning?”

Brad chuckled. “That's what I asked, but she insists you can figure out a way to make this happen.”

Great. “Okay,” I said, wondering why I was doing this. Any sane woman would say no and let them go find someone else. But no, not me. I liked to drive in the crazy lane. “Where would you like to meet?”

“Let's meet at McGee's Pub and Grill in Arlington Heights. Do you know where that is?”

“Sure,” I said. I lied, of course, but I could Google it later. “We'll meet tomorrow at McGee's in Arlington Heights. So, anything you can share with me about Jen's likes and dislikes before we meet tomorrow?”

“Um, what do you need to know?”

“I don't know, things like her favorite book or singer or movie.”

“Oh, well, she sort of likes that old movie
Serendipity
.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, she likes the idea that things are meant to be. Sort of like how we are meant to be—that is, if I can figure out a way to propose without her knowing. See?”

“Sort of,” I said, and tried not to sigh out loud.

“Great. Bring your ideas for over-the-top, viral video fun.” He hung up. I felt the weight of inevitable failure heavy on my shoulders.

“Crazy people's money is just as good as non–crazy people's money,” I muttered to myself. “Just charge them double. It's clear they can afford it.” I made a final note in my notebook about figuring out where McGee's was, then exited off the highway to my favorite parking garage. It cost $17 an hour to park there, but they had spaces big enough for Old Blue and I could catch a taxi to Macy's.

*   *   *

Sherry was a petite woman with thick dark hair that was scooped up into a high ponytail. She wore a red designer dress and six-inch heels, which meant she came up to my shoulder. She spotted me as I crossed in front of the giant stuffed gorilla. “Pepper?”

“Yes, hi, Sherry,” I said, and gave her a hug. She sent me air kisses on each cheek. “Thank you so much for meeting me on such short notice.”

“Short notice is what proposal planning is all about,” I said. “This is an interesting venue. What made you pick it?”

F.A.O. Schwarz occupied two floors in the Macy's store. We currently stood in the stuffed toy section. It was December and there were kids and harried parents everywhere. It had a kind of playful, frenetic energy.

“They have this great section full of those green army men you see in the
Toy Story
movies,” she said. “Will loves those little guys.” She took my hand and pulled me through
the stuffed toys to the section she had mentioned. There were little boys running and yelling and shooting at each other with green foam guns. “Isn't it great?”

“It's interesting,” I said, and looked around. “You know it will be quite original.”

“That's what I thought,” she said. “Will won't see it coming. Oh, here's Eric.” A young man came over dressed in a white dress shirt, Macy's red tie, and black slacks. He had dirty blond hair that was well-styled and thick, black horn-rimmed glasses. “Eric,” she greeted him with the same enthusiasm and air kisses, then pulled him toward me. “This is Pepper. She's the proposal planner who is going to put this whole thing together for me.”

“Hi,” I said, and shook Eric's hand.

“Hi, Pepper. I'm looking forward to your ideas.” At that moment he was hit in the side of the head by a foam puff. “What?” He turned to the boys. “Hey!”

“Sorry, mister,” one of the boys said with a sassy shrug.

Eric shook his head good-naturedly. “We're going to have to figure out a time where Sherry can propose without getting shot at with a foam bullet.”

“When do you close?” I asked.

“With this being the holiday season, we close at ten
P.M
.,” Eric said.

“How about when you open?” I asked

“We open at eight
A.M.
,” Eric said.

I turned to Sherry. “What about a morning proposal? He won't expect it. You can bring him shopping and stop in here. Eric could close this section for ten minutes while you
propose,” I suggested. “Afterward, you can take his hand and run under the gun arch to the baby toys section where you will announce the pregnancy. I can get it all on video.”

“I like it!” Sherry said.

“Eric, will that work? I can get it on the morning news show,” I said, hoping it would be a good incentive.

“I'm pretty sure that would work,” Eric said with a smile.

“Then, Sherry, I usually have an engagement party planned right after the proposal. I've got a few venues within walking distance or the tearoom upstairs. We could do a themed morning brunch with diamonds, Green toy soldiers, and storks.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Sherry clapped.

“Let's go iron out the details,” I suggested, and we went to the snack bar area. Sherry got a table and I bought us all coffees. It didn't take long to get all the particulars down. It was going to be quick, but it would be something Will and Sherry would always remember.

Satisfied that Sherry's proposal was well under way, I headed back to Old Blue. My thoughts turned to Brad and Jen. I had no idea how I was supposed to surprise Jennifer when she was the one who wanted to set up the engagement. She would know something was up the minute I showed up. She might even stalk me just to catch me setting stuff up. I bit my lip. The key to a true surprise was to not be planning her engagement. What I needed was an accomplice. Maybe Toby could help. He'd enjoyed helping me put together the last two proposals. Maybe he would help me out with this one, too.

Toby was a genius, independently wealthy, and a bit of a geeky romantic. He could do whatever he wanted, and he often did. The problem was that Toby had decided it
was time he got married. He thought he could go about marriage the same way he went about a business merger. He'd do some background research, match financials, and ask the woman to marry him. What he didn't get was that women wanted to be courted and, more importantly, loved for themselves, not for their fertility or financial status. The expression of that love and respect is what went into my proposals. Each was not necessarily glitzy, but rather very personal and well thought out. When I met Toby he had wanted me to set up a proposal to a woman he'd researched and decided was the girl for him, even though they had never dated. While I didn't accept Toby's money—and he'd offered me quite a bit—I instead asked him to accompany me on two of my proposals so he could understand what it meant to be in love and ask a woman to marry him.

For my Perfect Proposals business I wanted to cater to people who were in love and who had already begun to build a life together. That's why my first inclination was always to ask if a couple had talked about marriage and if they were both ready.

I could tell that Brad and Jennifer were in love. The hard part was that Jennifer wanted to be surprised. I had a feeling it was a game for her. That meant she'd be watching me like a hawk. I got to thinking that a way around that might be to get Toby to carry out some of the details. I might even have to set up a false trail of clues for Jennifer. If she wasn't surprised, then they wouldn't pay me. I didn't think that was quite fair. I'd talked it over with Gage. He
agreed that I needed to insist on a retainer and that all vendor costs be paid whether she was surprised or not. That was what I needed to talk to Brad about. I had hoped to talk to him alone, but it wasn't looking like that was going to be possible. In fact, I thought of leading Brad down the false path as well. That way he couldn't give anything away when it was actually happening. Hmmm, I'd think about that.

My cell phone rang as I got into Old Blue. I put on my Bluetooth earpiece and answered. “Perfect Proposals, this is Pepper speaking, how can I help you?”

“Pepper, this is Sugar Fulcrum, Clark's mom. We met at your sister's wedding. How are you?”

“I'm well. What can I do for you, Mrs. Fulcrum?”

“Please, call me Sugar,” she said. “Clark and Samantha Lyn are such a cute couple, don't you think?”

“Perhaps,” I hedged. “But they are very young.”

“Not so young,” Sugar said. “I got married at eighteen and Samantha Lyn is twenty. Anyway, Clark says she's the one for him. Our families are really close and Samantha Lyn's mother, Josie, and I were talking. We want to hire you to plan a really cute and glitzy proposal for Clark to ask Samantha Lyn to marry him. We want it to be so incredible it makes more than the society papers. We want it to make the morning shows. You know, like one of those viral video things. I'm sure you have an idea what I mean.”

“I think so,” I said.

“Yes, well, money is no object. I don't mean to be vulgar, but I know you are a businesswoman and you need to
know that there really won't be a budget. Clark has a huge trust fund and his father is on the Forbes list. So, as you can see, we have to make this huge. Think reality-show huge. I want a press release to go out and I want reporters invited. I want diamonds and gold and sparkles. I want romantic settings and only the top-shelf chef to cater. I'm certain you have resources that can make this happen.”

“Okay, well, we will have to set up an initial meeting where I flesh out ideas for the proposal. When would you like to meet? I'd like Clark there as well. I want to find out what he and Samantha Lyn like to do, some of the dates they went on, how they met, et cetera. It really helps to plan a very personal event. Then I'll also need at least a semblance of a budget. I charge a nonrefundable retainer of 50 percent of that budget the day we sign the contract.” I chewed on my bottom lip thinking that nonrefundable and 50 percent of an unlimited budget would make her stop and think about this crazy idea.

“Perfect,” Sugar said, completely unfazed by my outrageous proposal. “I can meet tomorrow. Does that work for you?”

“That works,” I said, and scribbled it into my date book. “Where would you like to meet?”

“Oh, how about the Pavilion tearoom on Wabash. We can have tea and discuss all the details.”

“Okay, great. I'll make reservations for you and Clark.”

“Add Josie as well,” Sugar Fulcrum said. “She'll want to be a part of the planning, and no one knows Samantha Lyn like her mother.”

“Great, I'll get a table for four tomorrow at noon at the Pavilion on Wabash.”

“Perfect,” Sugar trilled. “This is so exciting. See you then.”

I hung up the phone and frowned. Samantha Lyn seemed like such a nice girl, but so very young. I was worried for her. It seemed as if her parents were more excited about matching her with the sullen Clark than Samantha Lyn was. I frowned. If I were a good businessperson, I'd suck it up and plan the proposal. This was clearly going to be a big-ticket event.

I started Old Blue and drove her out of the parking structure. I frowned as I inched my way out onto the road. A fat bank account was nice, but I wanted my reputation as a proposal planner to be impeccable. Which meant that I wanted all of my proposals to generate a true yes. And for the marriage to last as long as possible . . . I suppose that was asking a lot in today's day and age of massive weddings and quickie divorces.

I honked at a taxi that tried to cut me off and ignored the insulting gesture that followed as I took the exit back onto the Kennedy Expressway. If money wasn't a stumbling block to this proposal, maybe talking would be. I chewed on my bottom lip and picked up my phone. While crawling along in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I Googled the Pavilion. When the number came up I hit the link to dial it and sent the call to my earpiece.

“The Pavilion tearoom.”

“Yes, I'd like to make a reservation for four tomorrow at noon.”

There was a pause. “I'm sorry but we have no openings at that time.”

Huh. “Okay, well, I'm making the reservation for Mrs. Sugar Fulcrum and Mrs. Josie Thomson. Should I have Mrs. Fulcrum's secretary call you?”

“Mrs. Sugar Fulcrum? No, no, we always have a table for Mrs. Fulcrum. You want a table for four?”

That's what I thought. “Yes, please,” I said. “You can put the reservation under Pepper Pomeroy for Mrs. Sugar Fulcrum.”

“Perfect, we will see you then.”

I hung up and shook my head. I wished I didn't have to resort to name dropping, but if Sugar Fulcrum wanted to meet at the Pavilion, then I needed to use her name to make that happen.

The traffic started to clear up the closer we got to the O'Hare Airport interchange. The sky was a brilliant blue with a weak light due to the time of year. The cold made the sky haze free and really gorgeous. But there wasn't a lot of light in a Chicago winter. It had snowed last night and we had three inches on the ground. The plows had come through early and hit the side roads, leaving a foot of mounded snow near the sidewalk, but the rest was soft, perfect snow that frosted the neighborhood in a blanket of fresh white.

I got off the highway and made my way home, thinking about the Pavilion tearoom. It was downtown and not one of the places I usually met people to discuss business. But then I had a feeling this particular account was going to
be far different than any of my proposals so far. I mean, a press release? Really? Maybe I should look into a film crew following Clark and Samantha Lyn around. Ridiculous, right? Or maybe it was smart. Think of the publicity if this turned out to be the engagement of the century. Samantha Lyn deserved it . . . but not with Clark. Maybe that was an opinion that Ashley had given me. I really didn't know Clark or his parents. Maybe there was more to the boy than I got from my first impression.

Or maybe he was the prankster and lazy troublemaker that Ashley had hinted at that night.

I decided that the thing to do was to call Samantha before this got too far. I pulled into my driveway and used my smartphone to do some sleuthing. Gathering up my things, I got out of the car, waved at Mrs. Crivitz, who peered out her dining room window, and unlocked my back porch door. The curtains fell shut as I entered the house and closed the door behind me. I dropped my things on the small dinette table near the back door, took off my coat and hung it up. I unwrapped my scarf from around my neck and tossed it up on a hook on the wall.

I left my boots by the door and contacted Whitney for Samantha's cell phone number. Once I had her number, I typed a brief text message into my phone. “Hi, Samantha Lyn, this is Pepper Pomeroy from the wedding Saturday night. Can we talk?”

“Okay,” came a texted reply.

I made myself coffee, dialed the number, and Samantha picked up. “Hi.” Her voice sounded wobbly.

“Hi, Samantha.”

“Hi, Pepper.” She sounded as if she were crying.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No,” she said, her voice watery. “I just . . . I can't believe Ashley died.”

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I saw you talking to Ashley that night. Did you know her well?”

Samantha sniffed. “Yeah, we met at a different wedding. She was nice. She took a lot of Clark's crap without being mean about it. You know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“It's just so weird. I've never known anyone who died. I mean, one minute she was there and the next she was dead.”

“You've never known anyone who died? Not even, like, your grandparents?”

“Yes.” Samantha hiccupped a quiet sad sob. “But they died when I was little. My parents never let me go to the funeral or anything. Pepper, I don't know what to do. I mean, is there a funeral for Ashley? Should I go? What do you wear? What about like a visitation and stuff? I Googled funerals and it all seems so weird. There's a protocol, right? Why don't they teach you about these things at school?”

“Oh, honey, it's okay. I've been to a few funerals,” I said. “I have family in the area and my parents have older friends and such. People die. It's not hard to go to a funeral.”

“Can you help me? I . . . I just want to do the right thing for Ashley, you know?”

“Sure, honey,” I said. “I can help.”

“Can you meet me tomorrow afternoon?” she asked. “I'd like to see you in person.”

“Sure,” I said. I bit my bottom lip. I wanted to ask her more about her conversation with Ashley but she was so broken up, now was simply not the time. I set up a time to meet her at a local coffee shop.

“Wait, why did you call me?” she asked.

“Can we talk about it when we meet?”

“Sure,” she said. “See you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

It was too bad I didn't find out a bit more. It would have been nice to be able to tell Detective Murphy about Samantha Lyn's connection with Ashley. But right now there was nothing to go on but the fact that they had talked and that Samantha Lyn was pretty broken up over it.