Читать книгу What the Hatmaker Heard - Sandra Bretting - Страница 11

Chapter 4

Once Lance closed up the wine cellar and returned the statue to its place at the head of the stairs, we headed over to the house.

Just as we were about to ascend the grand staircase, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket, and I quickly withdrew it.

“Hello?” The number on the screen looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t quite place it.

“Uh, is this Missy DuBois?” The caller swallowed her words, the way Lorelei and the other Cajuns around here did.

I didn’t recognize the voice, though. “It is. I’m afraid this isn’t a good time—”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but this is important.” The girl’s words were sharp. Whatever she had to say obviously couldn’t wait. “I’m Brandy d’Aulnay.”

A-ha. The d’Aulnays owned the paddle-wheeler where Ambrose and I planned to be married in a few weeks. “Are you one of Mr. d’Aulnay’s daughters?” The man had five of them, so odds were good she belonged to the family.

“I am. I’m the middle child, and I work for my dad, too.”

I’d only run across three d’Aulnays during my time on the Great River Road. The first was Mr. d’Aulnay, who was a successful businessman and someone who liked to throw his weight around. The second was Sabine d’Aulnay, who hired me to make a veil for her wedding last year.

For some reason, Sabine elected to get married in a church, instead of on her father’s riverboat, although I had no idea why. Finally, I also worked with the matriarch of the family when I booked the reservation for my wedding.

“I know you worked with my mom a few months ago,” Brandy said. “But I’m afraid I have terrible news.”

“News?” I couldn’t imagine what that might be. Had they double-booked the venue? Decided to raise their rates? My mind swirled with possibilities.

“There’s no easy way to say this. A fire broke out on the Riverboat Queen last night, and it gutted the ship’s kitchen. I’m afraid we have to cancel all special events for the next few months.”

Fire? “But…but…that’s not possible. I put down a deposit and everything.”

“I know you did, and I’m so sorry about this. It’s the same story for everyone. All of our bookings have to go somewhere else until we can repair the ship.”

“But that can’t be right.” Something inside me refused to accept the news. The words didn’t make sense. They tumbled end over end, weightless and out of order. “There must be some mistake. Surely it won’t take you several months to repair a little fire damage. How bad can it be?”

“It destroyed the whole electrical system. My dad redid it not too long ago, but it must’ve short-circuited during the night. We’re not quite sure how the fire started. We called our insurance agent, and he’s coming out today.”

“I see.” My mind still reeled from the news. “Can’t we just move everything to the top deck?”

“No, I’m afraid that’s not possible. Without the kitchen, you can’t have the reception onboard. Even if you brought in food, you’d need water hookups and electricity, and they’re both turned off. Again, I’m so sorry this happened, but you’ll have to find another venue.”

“I understand.” Finally, I relented. It was painfully obvious no amount of talking on my part was going to fix the situation, no matter how much I wished it would. “Well, thank you for letting me know.”

“You could always push back your wedding date.” She sounded hopeful, as if she was helping the situation.

“I don’t think so.” After knowing Ambrose for more than three years, and enduring more than our fair share of ups and downs, I couldn’t imagine delaying the ceremony any longer. Already it felt as if we’d waited a lifetime to be married, and I didn’t have the patience to hold out anymore.

“The Queen should be back in business by fall,” Brandy said. “Winter, at the very latest. That’s all I can tell you for now. Goodbye.”

The minute she hung up the phone, I let the cell fall to my side. Of all the things for someone to tell me this morning, that was the last one I expected.

“What’s up?” Lance could read my face like a book, and he knew right away something was wrong.

“That was one of the d’Aulnays. They’re the family that owns the Riverboat Queen. My goodness, Lance…the ship burned last night. I can’t have my wedding there next month.”

Although we were in a rush, Lance stopped in his tracks and draped his arm around my shoulders. “That’s too bad. But if I know you, Missy—and I do—you’ll find another place.”

“I don’t know. It’s really late in the season, and everything else is already booked up.” Unlike him, I had my doubts. “Ambrose and I both loved that venue. We even paid half up front to hold the booking.”

“I’m sure they’ll refund your money.”

Lance remained at my side, which I appreciated. Even though duty called, he put everything aside to comfort me in my time of need. That was why he was my best friend and always would be.

“But this changes everything.” I tried not to pout, but the whine came out anyway. “I already mailed the invitations.”

“That’s okay. We can call people. Maybe if we got a group together, we could go through your guest list and let everyone know.”

I paused long enough to consider that. To be honest, it didn’t sound half bad. When I first moved to Bleu Bayou, I didn’t know a soul. But I’d managed to make lots of friends since then, including my assistant, Beatrice; Lance’s mother, who owned a wonderful restaurant in town; and a fun-loving cakemaker named Bettina. Most of my friends worked in the wedding industry, and they could work magic when it came to special events. Maybe I could call on them to help me spread the word and even brainstorm ideas for a new venue.

“Maybe,” I said. “But first things first. I need to call Ambrose and let him know what’s going on.”

“Okay, then. Why don’t you stay here and do that. I’ll go to the house and talk to the family.”

“Wait.” Much as I wanted to speak to Ambrose and tell him about the recent turn of events, it wouldn’t change anything. Whether I called him now, or an hour from now, we still couldn’t use the paddle-wheeler for our wedding. “I think I’ll go inside with you. I can always call Bo afterward.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Besides, he’s probably busy with a client right now. No need to ruin his morning when he’s at work.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go.” Lance took my arm and began to lead me away from the wine cellar. “To be honest, I hate this part of my job. You never know how people are going to react when you tell them you’ve found a body.”

We walked in silence to the grand staircase, and then we ascended it to the first floor. Once again, I spotted Lorelei’s mother through a window at the entrance. She stood in the foyer, ready to welcome more guests to her home, but she froze the moment she saw me.

Slowly, she opened the door and leaned out. “Is something wrong, dear?”

Apparently, I’d make a terrible poker player, because my mood always showed up on my face. “Well, um…”

Lance saved me by stepping in between us.

“Hello.” He quickly withdrew his police badge from his front pocket. “I’m Lance LaPorte with the Louisiana PD. Could I speak with Lorelei Honeycutt, please?”

Mrs. Honeycutt stared hard at the badge, as if she’d never seen one before, which she probably hadn’t. When she glanced up again, her eyes looked even more troubled. “What’s this about, Officer?”

“I’d like to give everyone the news at once. Please find Lorelei and the rest of the wedding party. Is there a room we could use? Something private?”

“Yes. Of course.” She sounded reticent, although I couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t every day a police officer arrived on one’s doorstep. “Please come inside, Officer. Hello again, Missy.”

“Hello, Mrs. Honeycutt.” My smile felt strained as I returned her greeting.

“Please call me Nelle. And you can use the room at the end of the hall.” She pointed to the sunroom. “Missy, you know how to find it.”

“Thank you,” Lance said. “We’ll be waiting there.”

While Nelle left to gather the wedding party, I took Lance to the sunroom, with its massive windows and expansive view. By now, it looked completely different, though. Gone were the tables draped in linen and stocked with plates of biscuits, fruit, and whatnot. Instead, a set of white wicker furniture decorated the space, including a sofa, which wore a plaid cushion; several armchairs, with backs that fanned out from the seats; and a large glass coffee table. A worker had begun to dismantle the last of the buffet tables, and he stood amid a pile of serving utensils he’d placed on the ground.

“Excuse me.” Lance approached him. “We’re going to have a meeting here.” He pulled out his badge and held it up for the man’s benefit. “I need you to leave the room for an hour or so.”

The worker looked surprised, but he nodded and gathered up the utensils. Then he quickly headed down the hall and disappeared around a corner.

He was immediately replaced by someone new.

A young man in his twenties came ambling along, his penny loafers squeaking against the hardwoods. “Hello, there. I heard we’re going to have a little powwow in here.” The stranger extended his hand. “Name’s Buck Liddell. I get to be the best man at this little shindig.”

I cautiously placed my hand in his. He sounded awfully sunny for such a serious meeting, although he didn’t know why Lance was there.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Melissa DuBois, and this is Detective Lance LaPorte with the Louisiana Police Department.”

His mood instantly changed. “Whoa. To what do we owe the pleasure, Officer?”

Lance held up the badge again. “There’s been some news this morning.”

Buck carefully studied Lance’s ID. Unlike the rest of us, he was dressed to the nines this morning. He wore expensive linen trousers with knife-sharp pleats, a striped dress shirt cinched at the wrists with heirloom cuff links, and a Rolex diver’s watch as big as one of the biscuits put out for breakfast.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Liddell,” Lance said.

Since Buck was the first to arrive, he had his choice of chairs, and he selected the sofa placed front and center. He plopped onto the cushion and looked at Lance expectantly. “Can you give me a hint? I mean, c’mon. It has to be about the wedding, right? Why else would you be here?”

When Lance didn’t respond, Buck leaned forward. “Don’t tell me old Wesley finally got himself in trouble. I told him he was going to get in hot water if he stayed with that crowd.”

“That crowd?’ Lance calmly leveled his gaze at the man. By now, he’d heard everything there was to hear under the sun, so nothing caught him off guard.

“Yeah. The people down at the racetrack. They don’t take it lightly when you can’t cover a bet. Let me guess…he had to light out of town because his bookie was after him.”

“Mr. Liddell.” Lance spoke firmly this time. Apparently, he’d tired of Buck’s guessing game. “It’s even more serious than that. There’s been a death on the property.”

“Oh.” The words slapped the smirk right off Buck’s face. Instead of making a witty comeback, he flopped against the cushion, dumbfounded. “Holy s—”

Just then, someone new entered the room. It was a handsome Chinese man, who carried an empty vase and a roll of green florist’s tape. “What’s going on?” He approached Lance. “I was told to drop everything and get over here.”

The stranger wore a faux-fur vest that seemed wildly out of place for a house in the country, not to mention for the steamy weather.

“That’s right,” Lance said. “Please have a seat. And you are…”

“Jamison Lee. I own a flower shop in town. You can call me Jamie.”

I blinked at the name. I’d heard of him before…but where?

“Hello, there,” I said. “I’m Melissa DuBois. I think we both worked on the same wedding a while ago. It’s been months, but it took place in Las Vegas. I made the bride’s hat, and I heard she flew you in to make the centerpieces.”

“You must be talking about Stormie Lanai.” He rolled his eyes at the memory. “Now that was an interesting wedding.”

“You don’t say.” I smiled, despite the solemn occasion, because I knew exactly what he was talking about. “You’re very diplomatic. I also found her to be—as you put it—interesting.”

“I’m sure you did. You own Crowning Glory, right? Everyone’s talking about the great work you do at your shop.”

“Thank you.” Although this didn’t seem like the time, nor the place, for small talk, I couldn’t exactly ignore his compliment. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you, too.”

Lance cleared his throat, obviously ready to get down to business. “You can sit over there on the sofa, Mr. Lee.”

The florist shrugged and sank onto the small sofa, next to Buck Liddell. The best man barely acknowledged him, although I could tell they knew each other by their body language. Buck turned sideways, as if he didn’t want anything to do with the florist, while Jamie seemed amused by the snub.

Within a few minutes, the room had filled. Darryl walked in holding a pair of garden clippers, which he compulsively cleaned on the side of his coveralls. The bridesmaid from breakfast—the one who so graciously welcomed me to her table—inched into the space as if pulled along by a rope. The last to enter were Lorelei and Nelle, who linked arms as if they were facing a firing squad.

Jamie came to Lorelei’s rescue by indicating a spot next to him on the small sofa. She immediately left her mother’s side to join him on the sofa.

By now, everyone had found a place to sit, or they’d resigned themselves to standing against the wall. All in all, about twenty people milled around the sunroom, most of them looking extremely ill at ease.

“Thank you all for coming,” Lance began.

I noticed he carefully appraised each member of the wedding party as he spoke.

“Please don’t make us wait any longer, Officer.” Nelle’s voice was soft but firm. She’d moved behind the sofa, as if she could protect Lorelei that way.

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Lance weighed his words carefully. “I understand everyone’s been looking for the groom this morning. That you were afraid Wesley Carmichael had gone AWOL.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” A gentleman in the back of the room leaned forward in his seat. “My son wouldn’t leave his bride at the altar. That’s not who he is.”

A-ha. Wesley’s father. Mr. Carmichael’s face slowly reddened, and several people tried to gently coax him back into his seat. He shook off their efforts as if they were flies that buzzed around his shoulders.

“I have news about your son.” Lance waited for Mr. Carmichael to regain his composure before he continued. “He didn’t abandon his fiancée. We found his body this morning, right here on the property.”

Someone gasped at the back of the room. The next sound I heard was a soft thud as a body fell to the ground. It seemed to come from the back of the room, near Mr. Carmichael.

I craned my neck to peer over several heads. Sure enough, the old man remained seated—but a woman bedside him had fallen to the floor. Wesley’s mother, perhaps?

“Get that woman some air.” Lance moved to the back of the room. “Don’t crowd around her.”

He rushed over to the fallen woman and gently rolled her onto her back. Then he carefully loosened a bow she’d tied at her neck and undid the first few buttons of her silk blouse.

“Let’s sit her up.” Lance nodded at one of the groomsmen, who hovered nearby, and together they eased Mrs. Carmichael into a sitting position. “We need to get her upstairs, to her room.” Lance motioned to another man; this one also in the wedding party. “You, there. Grab her other arm.”

“That’s okay.” Mr. Carmichael quickly stood and inserted himself between Lance and the groomsman. “She’s my wife. It’s my responsibility.”

“No,” Lance said firmly. “Let these other guys do it. No offense, but I want to make sure she gets there safely.”

With that, the two strapping groomsmen lifted Mrs. Carmichael by the shoulders and hoisted her to her feet. By this time, she’d come around, and her head lolled back and forth as she was guided from the room.

Her husband tried to leave, as well.

“I’d like you to stay here, Mr. Carmichael,” Lance said. “I need to speak with you, if you don’t mind.”

“But…” The older man looked confused, as if he didn’t know which way to turn. After a few moments, he seemed to bow to Lance’s wishes. “Of course, Officer. Whatever you say.”

I quickly snuck a glance at the bride. She hadn’t budged from her spot on the small sofa, although she looked ashen.

I worried that maybe she’d gone into shock, so I quickly stepped in front of the sofa. “Lorelei? Are you all right?”

She glanced at me, but her stare was vacant. I’d found that sometimes it helped to touch a person who’d just received bad news, since it seemed to ground them to the here and now and kept them from slipping away.

I softly placed my hand on her knee. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be all right.”

She didn’t respond, though. It was almost as if she couldn’t hear me.

“Now see here, Officer LaPorte.” It was the florist, who spoke so loudly, both Lorelei and I flinched. “Are you sure it was Wesley? How do you know you didn’t make a mistake? It could’ve been someone else.”

“There was no mistake, Mr. Lee.” Lance stared hard at the florist as he returned to the front of the room. “He passed away sometime last night. Another inspector is on her way over here to secure the scene and help me start the investigation.”

“But…how?” Finally, Lorelei found her voice. It was shaky and weak, but at least she could speak.

“We don’t have any details right now.” Lance had softened his voice. “Until we do, I need everyone to stay on the property. I want to get a statement from each of you.”

Several people started to protest, but Lance silenced them all by holding up his hand.

“It’s police procedure, and you don’t have a choice. I apologize if that means you have to miss something, but it can’t be helped.”

Lorelei’s soft voice spoke again from the sofa. “I don’t believe it, either. I’m sure it’s all a mistake. A terrible, horrible, awful mistake…”

Her words came faster and faster.

Uh-oh. I squeezed her knee tightly, but she didn’t even acknowledge me. “Lorelei. Look at me. I need you to take a deep breath. C’mon. Breathe with me.”

She slowly brought her gaze around to my face. By now, her shoulders were shaking and her skin looked unnaturally pale.

“She needs something to drink,” I said loudly. “Something strong.”

The young bride gazed at me helplessly, desperate for something, anything, to make sense of what she’d just heard.

“Get the woman something to drink,” Lance repeated to the crowd. He quickly singled out Buck. “You, there. Get her something strong. Now!”

The best man sprang into action. He bolted from the sofa and made a beeline to a large globe that sat at the back of the room. With one yank, he opened the top half of the globe, which concealed a bar inside. Several bottles of liquor winked up from a black velvet lining. He reached for one, and then he poured about an inch’s worth of alcohol into a tumbler, which he rushed back to the sofa. He’d obviously visited the bar before, since he knew exactly what to do.

“Here.” He thrust the tumbler at Lorelei. “Drink this.”

His hand shook as he passed her the drink.

Lorelei looked dubious, but she accepted his offering and downed it. Then she set the glass on the ground and closed her eyes. “I want to see him.” Her voice was still shaky but audible. “Take me to him.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that right now,” Lance said. “We need to wait for the medical examiner first. She’ll do an examination, and then I can let you see him.”

“I’ll stay with her.” It was Nelle, who hadn’t spoken until now. She moved around the sofa and elbowed me out of the way. “Lorelei, dear…come upstairs with me. You’ve had a terrible shock, and you need to lie down. I insist.”

Although Lorelei tried to protest, her mother wouldn’t take no for an answer. She gently took hold of her daughter’s arm and carefully pulled her up from the couch. The minute she did that, Lorelei finally felt free enough to collapse into her mother’s arms.

“There, there.” Mrs. Honeycutt stroked her daughter’s hair as the girl wept.

Lance turned to address the crowd. “Like I said…I need to get a statement from each of you. You can either go to your room or stay somewhere else, but please don’t leave. I’d like you all to stay inside, too, until after the medical examiner leaves.”

Given that directive, the group began to disband. It started with the lady in stilettos, whom I’d pegged for a maiden aunt the day before. She tottered out of the room, and she was followed by several others, including Buck, Jamie, and the bridesmaid from breakfast.

Darryl stayed behind, though. He cautiously approached Nelle, who stroked her daughter’s hair. He stopped a few feet short of the sofa.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Nelle continued to rake Lorelei’s hair with her fingers. “Unless…could you please help me get Lorelei to her room?”

“Of course.” Darryl positioned himself to the left of the bride and gently took hold of her elbow. The trio slowly tottered out of the sunroom and into the hall.

By now, everyone else had disappeared, except for Mr. Carmichael. He had crept from his chair to the open globe, where he stood, transfixed by the gleaming bottles.

“What now?” I whispered to Lance.

“Now we find out about the groom’s family life.” He nodded at Mr. Carmichael, who was filling a large tumbler with whiskey. “Ready or not, here we come.”