Terror in Taffeta (11 page)

“Yes! I mean, how do they know if it even
is
poison? It's not like they tasted it!” Okay, so not exactly a great rationale, but it was all I had at the moment.

“Kelsey, they're the police. If they think it's poison, it's probably poison.”

I stormed off down the hill. The brilliantly colored sky had started to turn dark, the clouds nothing but black wisps.

“Kelsey, wait!” Evan called after me, but I was too agitated to slow down and listen to him. He caught up and grabbed my elbow, whirling me around to face him.

He took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Kelsey, listen to me. I know you believe your friend. But I have to ask you, how well do you know this girl?”

I shrugged. “Not best-friends-since-first-grade well, but well enough to know she isn't a killer.”

“You've known her for, what? A year? Six months?”

“Something like that,” I said, my righteous indignation starting to falter.

“And you've spent how many hours together during that time?”

“More than you'd think. These weddings don't plan themselves, Evan.”

“Come on, Kelsey, she isn't even your client. So you sat through a couple of dress fittings together. That doesn't mean you know the girl.”

“True, but…”

But what? My convictions were getting harder and harder to cling to in the face of actual evidence. “I don't know. I guess we'll have to wait for the autopsy. Maybe it will exonerate her.”

“Sure,” he said diplomatically. “Maybe it will.” He pulled me in close and kissed me on the forehead.

Damn it. I'd already let this whole situation throw my work life into chaos, and now it was putting a serious damper on what could have been a gloriously romantic evening. I vowed not to allow my impromptu murder investigation to infringe on my evening any more than it already had.

I sighed. I felt bad for berating my inside source, especially since he was also my dinner date.

“You hungry?” I asked.

“Starving,” Evan replied, cupping my face in his hands before pushing me up against a wall and kissing me deeply. The adobe was still warm from the sun, which was only partially to blame for the sudden flush I felt spread over my whole body. I officially declared myself off duty for the night as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed back.

Dinner would have to wait.

 

CHAPTER 11

The next morning I woke up just before dawn. I was a little disoriented at first, which you get used to when you travel a lot, but instead of the usual “What country am I in?” moment, I had an “Okay, seriously, where am I?” moment. I quickly assembled the clues: the striped bedspread confirmed that this was not my room at the villa. My dress draped over a chair told me I hadn't made it home last night. And the snoring coming from the next room provided the final piece of the puzzle.
Evan.
Mystery solved.

It had gotten late, so I'd stayed over in his guest bedroom. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that it was morning, I wished I'd gotten myself tucked into my own bed to avoid suspicion.

Maybe if I hurried, I could make it back to the villa before everyone woke up and save myself the raised eyebrows. I crawled quietly out from under the covers and quickly got dressed in last night's clothes—once again thankful I hadn't been wearing super-obvious high heels.

Cómo se dice
“walk of shame”
en español?

The streets were deserted at that hour, and the sun wasn't even fully up as I slipped through the gates of the villa, praying I could make it back to my room without being noticed. I carried my flats in my hand and padded softly across the courtyard, which was mercifully quiet. Whew. Thank goodness no one was up. I could relax.

“Late night?” The voice cut through the silence, making me freeze in my tracks.

Busted.

“Good morning, Mrs. Abernathy,” I called across the courtyard. “I couldn't sleep and went out to search for coffee.”

“I'm sure Fernando could have made you some.”

“I didn't want to bother him so early. See you at breakfast!”

As I darted down the hallway, I could have sworn I heard a
tsk
.

I took a long, hot shower, replaying the events of the night before in my head. I'd definitely needed a distraction from everything that had happened, and more importantly, I'd needed a reminder of what it was like to have a personal life. Even though I was surrounded by romance on a more or less everyday basis, I seldom had time for dating back home, so it felt good to indulge in an evening out.

I wanted to go tell Brody all about it, but that would have to wait. Now that I'd had a shower, I had to strategize my wardrobe: change into fresh clothes, which would confirm to Mrs. Abernathy that I'd spent the night out? Or put on my dress from the night before and act like it was perfectly normal to show a little cleavage at breakfast?

Either way, I lose,
I thought, as I pulled on a pair of khakis and a cotton top.
Might as well be comfortable
.

I still had some time before breakfast, so I spent a while returning e-mails and writing up a proposal for a bride who wanted a Disney-themed wedding. I padded the cost to the point where I might as well have put “all the money in the world” for the total, because that's how much it would take for me to want the job. Princesses are a definite job hazard, and experience has taught me that they're just not worth it. Then I sent my assistant, Laurel, a lengthy to-do list that included last-minute tasks for Tamara Richardson's upcoming nuptials, as well as booking tickets for a site visit to Hawaii next month.

It felt good to be back in wedding-planner mode. I needed to remember that this was temporary and my life would be returning to normal soon. Although I was enjoying my time with Evan, I really couldn't wait to be back in the land of champagne and happy endings and away from this world of poison and uncertainty.

After I caught up on my e-mails, I went down to the breakfast room, where I found Mrs. Abernathy, the newlyweds, and Brody already gathered around the table. When I saw Fernando heading toward me with a pot of steaming hot coffee, the words “Yes, please” were no sooner out of my mouth than Mrs. Abernathy arched an eyebrow at me and smiled. “More coffee? Why, dear, you're going to be all a-jitter if you keep this up. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer decaf?”

I blanched at the thought of skipping my morning brew just to save face, but Brody jumped to my defense. “Kelsey's frequent-flier points are nothing next to her Starbucks rewards card. She drinks at least five cups a day.”

Bless him, looking out for my caffeine intake like that. He might have exaggerated the quantity, but if I don't have at least sixteen ounces by about eleven
A.M
., I start feeling like someone shoved a fork into my right eyeball.

Fernando filled my cup, and Mrs. Abernathy moved on to a different subject. “I see you changed clothes,” she said.

Well, damn it.
I poured some cream and ripped open a packet of sweetener. “I think it's supposed to rain later,” I mumbled.

“It's probably best you changed. I told Zoe you'd be by to visit her this morning, and you don't want to cause a scandal down at the station.”

Nicole and Vince stared at Mrs. Abernathy, confused. “Did we miss something?” Nicole asked.

“Nothing at all, dear,” she replied as Fernando returned with a tray of food. “Oh, goody—waffles!”

*   *   *

Properly fueled, I was more than happy to bid
adios
to Mrs. Abernathy and head to the police station to see Zoe. I'd endured enough of Mrs. Abernathy's veiled comments for one morning. What business was it of hers if I wanted to spend the night somewhere else? I was a grown woman, not a promiscuous teenager. Besides, it wasn't like I was on the clock twenty-four hours a day. I wasn't even on the clock at all, was I? Mrs. Abernathy wasn't paying me for this extra-credit assignment, although she seemed to think I should be grateful she was covering my expenses for the extra days at the villa. Kind of like a paid vacation, right? Ha.

“Kelsey, you came!” Zoe looked happy to see me as she was escorted into the visitation room, although “happy” was a relative term under the circumstances. The harsh lighting did nothing to enhance her wan complexion.

“Hi, Zoe, how you holding up?”

“Oh, okay. As well as you'd expect,” she said, pulling her plastic chair up to the worn wooden table. I could tell from her dejected expression that she was just being brave.

“I can't even imagine what you're going through,” I said.

“I won't lie. It pretty much sucks. I think my bunk might have bedbugs,” she said, scratching absently at her shackled arms.

“Ugh, that's terrible.”

“And so far all they've fed me is rice and beans.”

“Oh, man, I should've smuggled you in a
chalupa
or something. I'll see if they'll let me bring in food.”

“It's not so bad,” Zoe said, “but I'd love it if you could bring me some bottled water. I'm terrified to drink out of the water fountains.”

“I don't blame you,” I said. I'd warned everyone to stay away from the tap water; our American digestive systems are no match for the local water supply. “I'll make sure we get you some. But in the meantime, I want you to know that we're doing everything we can to get you out of here.”

“I appreciate it, Kelsey.”

“Your mom tried calling the consulate, but she hasn't gotten in touch with them yet. Hopefully they'll call her back today.”

“What can they do for me, exactly?”

“I'm not really sure. I don't think they can get you out of jail, but at least they can make sure you have drinking water that won't kill you. They can help you find a lawyer, but I'm pretty sure your dad's already got someone.”

“I know he keeps a couple on staff, but they mostly deal with all the corporate stuff.”

“In the meantime,” I said, “your mom's kind of drafted me to try to figure out what happened. I'm not sure I'm the best person for the job, but I'll do what I can until they can get some lawyers down here.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you helping. I can't believe you're doing all this for me. You must have other weddings to get to.”

I shrugged. “No worries. Laurel's handling things for me back in San Francisco. But I do have a couple of questions for you.”

“Sure, anything,” she said
.

“Zoe, do you know why you're in here?”

“No! I have no idea. I didn't really care for Dana, but that doesn't seem like any reason to arrest me.” She ran her finger absentmindedly over the word
pendejo
that wa
s
carved into the wooden table. “Don't they need some sort of proof?”

I sighed. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember when they searched your room?”

“Of course. They searched everyone's room.”

“Yeah, well, yours was the only one where they found anything.”

“What?” Zoe looked pale. “There was nothing to find!” If she was acting, she was good at it.

“My friend talked to another detective on the squad, and he said they'd found poison in your room.”

“Poison? Like
poison
poison?” The blank stare on her face dissolved into a look of horror. “Oh, God. That explains all the questions they've been asking me, like what sorts of illegal substances I had brought with me, what I'd bought since I'd gotten here.… I thought they thought I was on drugs!”

“Is there anything you can think of? Maybe something that could be
used
as a poison? A can of Raid or something?”

“I don't even use moisturizer with parabens in it. I don't have anything that would be toxic to anyone, bugs included.”

“Well, they found something. We'll have to wait and see what it is—then we'll try to figure out how it got there.”

Zoe stared at the table between us, deep in speculation. “Kelsey, if she was poisoned … I wonder if Fernando could have had something to do with it?”

“The chef at the villa? Why?”

“The day before the wedding, I saw them fighting. I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but he looked pretty mad. I didn't think that much of it at the time. I just figured Dana was being Dana. But what if there was more to it than that?”

I thought about it for a second, then shook my head. “I can't imagine Fernando killing anyone.”

“Um, hello? As opposed to me?”

Oops.

“I'm sorry, Zoe. That's why I suck at this! I can't imagine anyone killing anyone for any reason ever.” I needed to start thinking less like a wedding planner and more like a hardened detective.

“He would have had access to Dana's food,” Zoe said. “If she was poisoned, it would have been easy for him to pull off.”

“True. And he also would have had access to your room to plant the poison later.” It wasn't much to go on, but it made as much sense as anything else.

“Can you see what you can find out?”

“Of course. I'll do whatever it takes to get you out of here.”

I promised to visit again as soon as I knew more, then headed back to the house to talk to Fernando. I had to figure out how to broach the topic carefully, though. Accusing the chef of murder can make things pretty awkward come dinnertime.

Entering the courtyard, I found Nicole, Vince, and Mrs. Abernathy sitting in the middle of a modest pile of wedding presents, expensive wrapping paper littering the ground.

“Oh, Kelsey, good thing you're here. You should be logging these gifts,” said Mrs. Abernathy.