WineBuried Wedding (Black Cat Cafe Cozy Mystery Series Book 8) Page 5

  “You’re family? I’ll take care of that for you,” Camilla said with a sly wink.

  Annie pulled her comfy jeans and t-shirt back on, ran her fingers through her curls, and left the dressing room.

  Camilla had the package all ready for Annie and refused to let her pay anything for the outfit. “A wedding present from Dazzle Designs,” she said conspiratorially.

  Annie couldn’t refuse that even though she suspected Trisha knew nothing about her new employee’s overly generous discount. Camilla distracted the security guard with the bag of muffins and her flirtatious laughter as Annie left the store with her package tucked securely under her arm.

  Her phone beeped with a message. What now, she wondered. A message from Scarlet. Someone has been in my room. Can you help me? Room thirteen at the Heron Inn.

  Chapter 7

  Annie didn’t have to wonder what her next move would be. She walked to her car, threw the package from Dazzle Designs in the passenger seat, and headed to the Heron Inn. With any luck, she could kill two birds with one stone with this visit—finalize a few last minute wedding details with Mrs. Delaney, the owner of the Heron Inn, and find out what happened in Scarlet’s room.

  As Annie entered the inn, she heard someone call her name. Glancing into the quiet sitting room with couches, chairs, and shelves for books and magazines, she saw Trisha’s parents, her Great Uncle Harold and Great Aunt Milly.

  Harold had his hand up, waving enthusiastically. “Annie. Come sit with us for a few minutes. We were hoping to get you to ourselves before the big day.” He stood up and approached Annie, wrapped her in his arms, and squeezed the daylights out of her.

  Annie grunted.

  Harold laughed. “Sorry. Milly always tells me—Harold, you don’t know how strong you are. You don’t have to squish people to death.” He kept his arm draped over her shoulder and guided her back toward the couch. “Milly. Look who I’ve kidnapped for a quick visit.”

  Milly stuck her finger in her book to hold her spot and glanced up. “Hi Annie. I’m just at an exciting point in this novel and I can’t bear to put it down.” Her head dropped and her attention went back to her book.

  Annie settled next to Harold on the big leather couch. “Are you staying here at the inn?” she asked.

  “Yes. Arrived last night and it sounds like we were extremely lucky to get a room. It may have been the last one available.”

  Harold put his hand on Annie’s thigh and studied her. “It’s been way too long since we’ve been back in Catfish Cove. Such fond memories from when we were living here and Trisha and Leona always visited back and forth between our homes. Such a shame their friendship fell by the wayside.” He sighed. “Bound to happen, though, I guess, with Trisha heading off to design school and making such a big success of Trish Designs. Who knew that sweet little girl of mine would turn into such a strong, savvy businesswoman?”

  Annie barely managed to control her gag reflex at, what she suspected, was a huge exaggeration on Harold’s part. “Aren’t you involved in the business, too, Harold?”

  He waved his hand flippantly. “You could say that but,” he leaned close to Annie, “I’m around as Trisha’s cheerleader more than anything else. Don’t let my secret out.” He laughed. “She humors me and I try my hardest to stay out of her way. Much to her annoyance, I’m not always successful with that part.”

  “Such a shame about Steve,” Annie offered. “I don’t know how Trisha can just keep going like she is with her opening.”

  “That’s my girl. She has her priorities and she’s never let anything get in the way. Remember that, Annie. Priorities are how you become successful.”

  Annie slid away from Harold. The leather couch squeaked. She hoped her face didn’t reveal the utter shock she felt with Harold’s insensitive comments and complete disregard for Steve’s death.

  Priorities? She wondered what kind of person could let her business be more important than the death of her husband. Annie felt a shudder travel through her body. A cold-blooded killer? Possibly.

  “Annie? Did you hear me?” He chuckled. “You certainly are distracted.” He patted her thigh again. “I’m sure you have a million things on your mind with your wedding right around the corner.” He looked around the inn. “And what a beautiful location this is for a May wedding. All the lilacs in bloom outside and a stunning view of the mountains over the lake.” His hand covered his heart. “I’ve always been so much more of a romantic than Milly. I wish Trisha’s wedding had been so well planned. I offered to pay for a big fancy wedding, of course, but no, Steve convinced Trisha to elope instead.”

  Annie scooted farther away from Harold’s annoying hand. “I thought it had something to do with having the wedding closer to his mom since she couldn’t travel. I wasn’t aware that they eloped,” Annie said, puzzled by Harold’s statement.

  “Minor detail. It felt like an elopement to me and Milly. A girl should get married where she lives, not where the groom’s family lives. It doesn’t matter now. And who knows? Maybe Trisha will find a nice young man and I’ll be able to give her a fancy wedding after all.”

  Annie stood up abruptly. She’d heard enough of his nonsense. He was already planning Trisha’s next wedding just one day after his son-in-law was murdered? Now she understood where Trisha got her lack of feelings for others from. Maybe it was genetic. “It was nice to see you and Milly.” Annie glanced over but Milly was still completely engrossed in her book. “I have some wedding business to take care of.”

  Harold stood up, too. “Of course. We’re heading over to Trisha’s shop.” He cupped his hand around his mouth and tilted his head toward Annie. “As soon as Milly gets her nose out of that book. I don’t understand how she can fall into all that made up drivel. I prefer a real life story.”

  Annie waved and walked away before Harold had a chance to spout any more unbelievable comments about how he thought things should be done. With enough time, Annie worried, Harold would figure out a way to improve her wedding and maybe even decide she should marry someone else! Too bad her mother insisted she invite these relatives.

  Annie peeked into Mrs. Delaney’s office. She waved but was talking on the phone and held her finger up, indicating that she’d only be a minute longer. Annie held up five fingers, hoping Mrs. Delaney understood she’d be back shortly.

  Annie took the stairs two at a time. Even-numbered rooms two through twelve were on the left side, and the odd rooms, one through thirteen, lined the right side of the hall. Thirteen was the last room. Annie knocked.

  “Who is it?” Scarlet’s voice asked from the inside.

  “Me. Annie. Are you okay?”

  The lock clicked and the door opened. Scarlet reached out. She quickly pulled Annie through the partially opened door, closed it, and locked it. “Thank you for coming. It’s such a creepy feeling sitting here knowing someone violated my space.”

  Scarlet sat at the edge of her bed, her arms crossed over her chest, her legs squeezed tightly together, and her ankles crossed. The curtains were drawn, blocking the view of the water and the late morning sun which made the room feel more like a dungeon than a bright cheerful space.

  Annie walked around the room. Everything was tidy. “How do you know someone was inside? Maybe it was only room service bringing clean towels.”

  Scarlet shook her head. “I have a prescription for pain pills and half the pills are gone. I recounted several times, checked to see if they spilled in my bag, and double checked how many should be left based on when I started taking them. It doesn’t add up.”

  “That could be room service. You should tell Mrs. Delaney so she can get to the bottom of it,” Annie suggested.

  “No. That’s not all.” Scarlet handed Annie some sketches. “These were stuck in the side pocket of my suitcase.”

  Annie looked at the sketches. To her, they looked like quick drawings of some dress ideas. “Okay? And why is this a problem?”

  “They aren’t mine. Someone m
ust have stuffed them in my suitcase when I was gone.” Scarlet twitched her feet. She pointed to the bottom corner of the drawing. “See this? T.F.—Trisha’s initials. She often did some simple drawings, then got one of the real designers to flesh them out. You know, give it some life and creative features. A talent Trisha lacked completely. She had a pile of these in her office.”

  Annie rubbed her hand across her cheek. “So you think someone planted these drawings in your suitcase?”

  Scarlet nodded.

  “Why? Did something else happen before you quit working for Trisha? Some reason someone is trying to make you look guilty of something? Maybe Steve’s murder?” Annie’s stare made Scarlet turn her head.

  “Maybe,” she said in a whisper. “I gave a sketch pad to Steve and he promised to help me find another job. A company where I would be appreciated for my talent instead of being treated like a second rate designer. He saw my potential.”

  “When did you give it to him?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Annie raised her eyebrows. “And?”

  “Trisha walked in and saw Steve with the pad. She knew what it was. I had already shown it to her but I took it back before she could steal those designs. I knew she was never going to give me any credit for my work. That’s why I had to quit. He told me he was working on a plan to help me. I was counting on Steve to give me a lead and a recommendation. I didn’t even know Steve was dead until you told me.”

  “So what happened to that sketch pad?” Annie wasn’t quite ready to tell Scarlet that there was a good chance she had the sketch pad. She wanted to gather more information first.

  “I don’t know.” Scarlet’s eyes were filling with tears. “It’s some of my best work, and without those drawings, I have nothing.”

  “You’ve been sitting here making a plan?” Annie asked.

  “I’ve been sitting here waiting. I don’t know for what. Maybe the police. Maybe whoever broke in before will come back. I don’t know,” she repeated. Her hands rested in her lap, clenching and unclenching until she tightened her fingers, forcing her hands to remain still.

  “Pack up your stuff. You’re coming home with me. I don’t think you’re safe here. I’ll figure out someplace for you to stay tonight,” Annie said. “I have to go downstairs to the office, but when I get done, I’ll come back up. Wait here for me.”

  Scarlet nodded but she didn’t move.

  Annie held up the sketches. “I’ll keep these.” She stuffed the sketches in her jeans pocket. “Pack up,” she repeated before she opened the door to leave. “And lock the door behind me.”

  Great, Annie said to herself. She wanted to focus only on her wedding, but instead she had to take care of someone she barely knew? But what else could she do—abandon Scarlet to deal with Trisha on her own? That wasn’t an option.

  If Scarlet was telling the truth, she could be the key to the whole mess. And, with what Annie overheard in the dressing room, it sounded obvious that Trisha sent her bodyguard to search for the missing sketch pad. Did he plant Trisha’s drawings at the same time? And steal some pain medications? At least there was a path to follow, but where would it go?

  Mrs. Delaney was leaving her office when Annie approached. “Are you ready for your big day?” she asked. She clapped her hands together and smiled happily at Annie.

  Annie laughed. “You’re doing all the work. All I have to do is get dressed and show up. But I do have a question.” They walked together down the hallway. “Did you see anyone go into room thirteen this morning?”

  Mrs. Delaney stopped walking. “I didn’t, but I’ll check with the help. Why? Is there a problem?”

  “There’s a young lady staying in that room, right?”

  “Yes. Very attractive woman named Scarlet. There was a bit of a fuss about trying to cancel the reservation but I think that’s all been worked out.” She looked worried as she waited for more information from Annie.

  “That’s not the problem. Scarlet thinks someone may have stolen something from her room and I told her I’d help her get to the bottom of it. If you find out anything, give me a call, okay?”

  “Definitely, Annie. I’ll look into it right now. Is there anything else?”

  Annie smiled. “Did you order the seventy degree, sunny weather, with just a hint of a breeze I asked for? And a beautiful sunset if I pay extra?”

  Mrs. Delaney’s face relaxed and the edges of her eyes creased. “I put the order in and I’ve got my fingers crossed for good measure.”

  Annie laughed out loud. “I’m counting on you to make my day perfect!”

  Mrs. Delaney patted Annie’s shoulder. “That’s my goal, dear, but don’t forget that sometimes these things are out of my control.”

  Annie headed back upstairs, sending a quick text to Jason to explain that she would be bringing a guest home until she could find somewhere for Scarlet to stay. Not ideal, but it was all she could think to do at the moment to keep Scarlet safe.

  She knocked on Scarlet’s door.

  Silence.

  She knocked louder.

  No answer.

  She called Scarlet’s name.

  Nothing.

  Annie’s heart raced. How could she vanish in such a short amount of time?

  Annie found Mrs. Delaney. Together, they returned to room thirteen. Mrs. Delaney used her master key to unlock the door.

  Silence.

  Empty.

  Scarlet and her suitcase were gone. The only reminder of Scarlet was a small indentation on the edge of the bed where she had been sitting.

  Chapter 8

  Annie slammed her hand against the door frame. “I can’t believe she disappeared. Maybe something spooked her.”

  Mrs. Delaney stood next to Annie, wringing her hands. “Oh dear. What now? Is that young woman in some kind of trouble? What do you mean, spooked her?”

  “I’m just not sure what to think.” She patted her jeans pocket and was glad she had the sketches at least.

  Annie heard a commotion outside. The two women rushed to the window, opened the curtain, and saw Scarlet in the parking lot, holding her suitcase close to her chest. The security guard Annie had seen earlier at Dazzle Designs pulled on the handle and tried to yank if from her arms.

  Annie bolted from the room. Her feet barely hit each step as she dashed downstairs. She ran outside to Scarlet’s side and pushed in between the guard and Scarlet.

  “Hands off!” she yelled with her finger in his face. He was at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than Annie and she suddenly felt vulnerable as she registered the anger on his face. Why did she jump in between them? The vein on the guard’s neck pounded, drawing Annie’s attention to the tattoo twisting from under the collar of his shirt to his hairline. Sharp thorns that matched his obvious rage.

  Much to Annie’s relief, a police cruiser turned into the Heron Inn parking lot. It stopped merely feet away from where Scarlet and the guard struggled for the suitcase. The guard backed off when Tyler ambled toward Annie with one eyebrow raised. “What’s the trouble here?”

  “He’s trying to steal my suitcase,” Scarlet yelled as she pointed to the security guard.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Scarlet LaFave,” she answered quietly.

  Tyler turned his attention to the guard. “Did you try to take her suitcase?”

  “Of course not. I only asked her if she has something that belongs to my boss.” The guard had a satisfied look on his face, as if he was holding all aces and Scarlet was about to lose the bet. As if he knew what he was accusing her of taking because he planted the evidence in her suitcase. He stood with his legs apart, his arms crossed over his chest, and his chin jutting toward Tyler.

  Tyler slid a notebook from his pocket. “Your name?” He stepped closer to the man.

  “Thorne Collins.”

  “Who’s your boss?”

  “Trisha Fitch, the owner of Dazzle Design,” Thorne replied as he puffed up his shoulders,
held his ground, and stared right back at Tyler.

  Tyler made a few notes before turning to Annie. “And how about you? Why are you here?”

  “Finishing up some last minute wedding details, if you must know. I ran over when it appeared that Thorne,” she nodded her head in his direction, “was harassing Scarlet.”

  “We can clear this up quickly if you’ll let me examine your case.” Tyler looked at Scarlet, his eyebrows raised in question. She hesitated before she handed him the suitcase. Tyler set it on the hood of his cruiser and popped the latch. “I had a call that some sketches were taken from Dazzle Design.”

  Thorne let out a satisfied grunt and stepped closer to the cruiser. He bent his head over Tyler’s shoulder to watch the unfolding of Scarlet’s intimate clothing.

  Pervert, Annie thought.

  Tyler carefully pulled out each item from the case and piled them next to her suitcase. A blush crept up Scarlet’s face as silky underclothes were exposed for all to see. Annie felt her pain. First, someone invaded her room, and now she had to endure the humiliation of watching a man she didn’t know as he touched her personal items.

  Tyler pointed to the pile of clothes. “Are all these yours?”

  “Yes.”

  Tyler tucked his fingers into the side pockets of the suitcase and came up empty handed. “Well, Ms. LaFave, apparently, whoever called wasted my time on a wild goose chase. Unless you have hidden some sketches elsewhere?” Tyler kept his eyes on Scarlet’s face. She shook her head and held his gaze.

  Thorne’s mouth hung open, his nostrils flared, and his lips curled but he said nothing.

  Annie idly tucked her hand into her own jeans pocket and believed the sketches she felt were in fact not stolen by Scarlet. She suspected that the low-down creep Thorne Collins, doing the dirty work of Trisha Fitch, planted them and called the police on Scarlet. Somehow, Annie needed to gain Scarlet’s trust to find out more dirt on Trisha Fitch and her Trish Designs business. And Thorne Collins. One loose thread might unravel the whole dirty dress line.