Terror in Taffeta (15 page)

As I filled her toiletry bag with her makeup, a small tube of lipstick fell off the table and onto the floor, rolling under the dresser.
Oh, skip it,
I thought as I packed up her tweezers and eye shadows.

Approximately twelve seconds later, my conscience got the best of me. Even though they'd never notice it was missing, I'd know. That's me. Attention to detail. Both a blessing and a curse.

I knelt down to peer under the heavy wooden furniture. The lipstick had rolled to the back wall, just out of reach. I grabbed a clothing hanger and used it to retrieve the small plastic cylinder, noting to myself that I would probably be pretty good at that claw game if I ever needed a small stuffed toy.

There was something else under there. I raked at it until I pulled it close enough to reach. Just her plane tickets. Probably too late for her family to get a refund for the unused portion, although it wouldn't hurt to try. I plopped down on the bed and opened up the envelope to find her return flight.

There wasn't one. At least not to the United States.

There was a receipt for her flight to Mexico, and she'd paid a lot for the last-minute ticket. But instead of a return flight home, she had booked a one-way ticket to Barbados.

Funny, Mrs. Poole hadn't mentioned that when I'd talked to her. Had she known that Dana wasn't flying back home? Weird. It wasn't unheard of, piggybacking one trip onto another, but San Miguel to Barbados seemed like an odd itinerary. What had she been up to? I shrugged and set the ticket aside, in case Dana's mom wanted to try to get some money back from the airline.

As I finished up, my pocket buzzed with a text from Brody:

Where are you? It's time to go down to dinner.

I'd lost track of time, but the bells of La Parroquia confirmed my tardiness, so I dashed out a reply:

On my way. Wait for me?

I hurriedly zipped Dana's bags and did a final check under the bed and in the closet. I didn't want to miss out on one of our last remaining Fernando meals—especially after having smelled it simmering earlier in the day. One of the few things I would miss about this place, I thought, as I closed the door to Dana's room behind me.

 

CHAPTER 15

The family was already seated when Brody and I got down to the dining room, and the newlyweds looked fairly miserable as they listened to Mrs. Abernathy go on about how a cricket had been chirping all night either in or near her room.

“It positively
destroyed
my sleep,” she said.

“Do you want to trade rooms, Mother?” Nicole asked.

“Oh, no, dear, I couldn't ask you to give up the bridal suite, now, could I?” The way she said “could I” sounded more like she was weighing her options than making a point:
Could I? I don't know, let me think. Maybe I could
.

Brody and I nodded our hellos as we sat down at the table.

“Oh,
there
you are, Kelsey,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “I'm glad you decided you could spare an evening for us, given your busy social schedule.” She smiled as she dabbed the corners of her lips delicately with her napkin.
All in good fun,
her casual tone said, but her eyebrows arched a little beyond what they'd been plucked to do.

I smiled gamely, refusing to take the bait. “Good evening, Mrs. Abernathy. Of course I'm here. There's no place I'd rather be.”

Brody, who had just taken a sip from his water glass, almost did a spit take in reaction to my obvious lie.

Okay, perhaps I was laying it on a little thick. I could think of plenty of places I'd rather be—San Francisco, Evan's house, the dentist—but this was where I was stuck, so I might as well make the best of it.

“Our lawyers are arriving tomorrow, and I was hoping for an update,” she continued. “Have you learned anything new since this morning?”

Fernando, who had been pouring drinks for everyone, froze in his tracks.

“I, um, well—we've been trying to break into those files,” I said, looking at Brody pointedly and getting ready to kick him in the shins if he said anything to indicate that I hadn't been by his side the entire time. I was afraid to mention my meeting with Jacinda; heaven forbid I take an hour for myself. I also didn't want to tell Mrs. Abernathy that I'd questioned Fernando—especially not in front of Fernando—and I definitely didn't want to say anything about Dana's mystery guest. Especially if that mystery guest turned out to be Vince.

Brody nodded. “Yes. Um, she's been a big help. Will you excuse me? I forgot to wash my hands.”

Okay, at least if he was going to crack under the pressure, he had the good sense to flee.

Fernando's look of panic passed when he realized I wasn't going to mention our conversation, and he resumed filling the glasses. Our eyes locked as he poured a glass of wine for Vince.
Not to worry, Fernando.
I planned to watch
el novio
carefully while I decided what to do with that little nugget of information.

Mrs. Abernathy was still staring at me expectantly. She clearly thought I should have done more than just watch Brody try to hack some files.

“I also packed up Dana's room,” I said, hoping that would satisfy her curiosity as to my whereabouts.

“Well, it's about time,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “I assumed you'd taken care of that days ago.”

I ignored her comment as Brody slipped back into the chair beside me. “I was wondering,” I asked Nicole and Vince, “do either of you know when Dana was planning on flying back to Denver? I only found a one-way ticket to Barbados.”

Nicole's eyes grew wide. “Barbados? She didn't mention that.”

Was it my imagination, or had Vince's expression shifted? In the dim light, it was hard to read his face, but there definitely seemed to be something going on there.

Mrs. Abernathy shrugged. “Lots of people vacation, Kelsey. I can't see how that's any business of yours.”

“I was surprised, that's all. I assumed she'd be flying back to Denver.”

“Well, she's flying back to Denver now, isn't she? Have you made arrangements for the body?”

“Mrs. Abernathy, I really don't think that's—” Her stare-down stopped my sentence in its tracks.

“You don't think it's what? Your job? You certainly don't think
I'm
going to do it, do you?” She stared at me, dumbfounded by my apparent stupidity.

“I just figured—”

An awkward silence ensued.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” said Mrs. Abernathy.

I felt my face flush. “I'm sure her family will want to make the arrangements.” I was glad when Brody reached over and took my hand, because it was the only thing stopping me from stabbing her in the eyeball with my salad fork.

The silence was broken a moment later when the door to the kitchen swung open and Fernando reappeared, a steaming dish in his hands.
Perfect timing,
I thought.
That's a much better use of a fork.

“Carne asada,”
he announced as the room filled with the fragrance of marinated steak.

I couldn't wait to dig into the dish I'd watched him preparing earlier in the day. It smelled even better than before, and my stomach gurgled its approval.

As the tortillas were passed around the table, one of the housemen entered and whispered something to Fernando, who glanced toward me. They continued their hushed exchange, and then Fernando nodded and came around to my side of the table. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice discreetly low. “You have a visitor.”

Mrs. Abernathy let out an exasperated sigh. “It's dinnertime, Fernando. Tell Kelsey's little friend we're eating. She can call him later.”

“It's not Evan,” I said, offended that she'd assume it was my fault. “He's flying right now.”

“Then who is it?” Mrs. Abernathy demanded.

“It's a young man,” said Fernando. “He asked for Kelsey specifically.”

“Okay,” I said, bewildered. “Did he say who he was?”

Fernando bowed his head slightly before replying. “Yes, madam. That girl, Dana?”

I nodded. I wasn't sure where this was going, but I was pretty sure I didn't want anything to do with it.

“It is her fiancé.”

We all looked at each other, trying to identify the person at the table to whom this might make sense. I didn't know Dana had had a fiancé, and judging by the look on her face, Nicole didn't, either.

“He has flown in from the States,” Fernando continued. “Shall I send him in?”

“Um, sure,” I said, glancing around the table for approval. As much as I hated to disrupt dinner, this new development had gotten the better of my curiosity, and everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Of course, Fernando,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “Send him in. The poor boy.”

As soon as Fernando left the room, we all tried to cram an hour's worth of speculation into the ensuing two minutes. Why hadn't Dana told us she was engaged? Why hadn't she invited him to the wedding? And was she flying on to Barbados without him? How had he known where to find us? Was he heartbroken? Would there be tears? Would he—please, oh, please—be taking over the duties that had been dumped on me?

All whispering stopped as the door swung open a few moments later. A tall, skinny guy with messy brownish-blond hair stood in the doorway, looking teary-eyed, jet-lagged, and awkward as all hell.

“Hi, I'm Kirk. Kirk Larsen.” His eyes darted around the room, not sure exactly whom he should be introducing himself to.

The moment might have been uncomfortable if it weren't for Mrs. Abernathy, who seamlessly switched into hostess mode. “Fernando, set another place, please. Kirk, you must be starving. Please, put your things down.”

“Thanks,” he said. He dropped a backpack on the floor next to his rolling suitcase and gratefully took the chair Fernando had pulled up to the table.

We all stared at him, not sure what to say.

“I'm Kelsey,” I said. “We're so sorry for your loss.” The introductions and condolences continued around the table.

“Dana told us such nice things about you,” Nicole said. I cocked my head at her lie. Bless her heart. Nicole would do anything to make someone feel better.

“Thank you. I talked to Dana's mom Sunday night, and she told me what happened.”

“Have you arranged for a place to stay?” I asked gently. What was one more guest?

“No, when I heard the news, I packed my things and came.”

“Well, don't you worry one bit,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “We've got plenty of room here, at least until Friday. You can stay with us.”

“That's awfully nice of you,” Kirk said. “But really, I don't mind finding a hotel.”

“Don't be silly,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “I insist.”

His voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you. I don't even—thank you.”

“Fernando,” I said, “can you send a housekeeper to make up—oh, shoot.”

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Abernathy.

“Well, the only room that's open is … was…” It was Dana's. I couldn't get the word out.

Mrs. Abernathy chimed in: “Kirk, is it okay if you stay in Dana's room? Kelsey's removed her belongings already.”

“About that—her things are still in there.” I cringed, waiting for the response. “I was going to finish after dinner.”

Mrs. Abernathy looked disappointed in me, but she bit her tongue in the presence of our new houseguest.

“That's okay,” Kirk said. “I'll finish packing her stuff. I was planning on doing that anyway. I promised Mrs. Poole I'd settle Dana's affairs.”

Yes!
I felt bad for Kirk, but I was happy to be absolved of Dana duty. I'd let him deal with her belongings and the coroner's office; I had plenty to do just tending to Mrs. Abernathy.

“Well, it's settled, then,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “Fernando, please tell the housekeeper to freshen up Dana's room.”

“Very well,” said Fernando, exiting back into the kitchen.

I felt excited about my newly lightened load for about twenty whole seconds before it hit me:
the condoms!
I didn't know what Dana had been doing with a fully stocked condom drawer and I didn't want to know, but I definitely didn't want to leave them there for Kirk to discover. I didn't really care about protecting her reputation, but I did care about protecting Kirk.

“Will you excuse me?” I asked. “I just want to make sure they…” I pointed toward the door, then dashed through it, making record time up to Dana's room. I retrieved the package from the garbage can, stuffed seven or eight foil squares into my various pants pockets, and wadded the empty box up into an unrecognizable ball that I hid in a planter of bougainvillea in the courtyard.

I slipped back into my seat as Kirk was finishing up a story. “So anyway, that's how we met.”

“Had you set a date yet?” asked Nicole, clearly wondering why she hadn't been invited to be in the wedding party.

“It was all very sudden,” Kirk said, “but we wanted to do it before the baby came.”

Vince choked on the bite of steak he had taken, coughing furiously while Nicole patted him on the back.

A baby?
A baby?!
Poor Kirk. Dana had struck again, just like she had with Trevor. Brody and I focused our attention on our plates. Mrs. Abernathy simply stared, as expressionless as a Botox junkie. I hoped that for Kirk's sake no one would mention the Dana and Trevor saga. It was too late for it to matter.

Kirk looked alarmed at the reaction. “I'm sorry. Hadn't she told you? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Wow,” I responded, just to have something to say. “I had no idea. Then again, I'm just the wedding planner. Why would she tell me, right?” I was hoping we could gloss over the facts of who knew what, because if Dana really
had
been pregnant, surely she would have told Nicole, and it was clear she hadn't said a word about it. Which could only lead me to one conclusion—one that was most likely shared by several members of our party.