BRIDE and DOOM (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 2) (11 page)

              “How are you enjoying your stay?” she asked, keeping things light.

              Derek wasted no time opening the top drawer of his dresser and producing a little black box, which contained the two wedding bands for Kitty's approval when he opened it.

              “It’s fine here,” he stated without affect like a child wishing to be excused. “Happy?”

              “Derek, I’m concerned,” she said gravely.

              He looked down at the rings, confused. “What’s wrong with them.”

              “It’s not the rings,” she went on, closing the box in his hand. “It’s Johnny’s death, the investigation, the strain it’s caused on the wedding, on Mandy and Erik, on
you
.”

              Derek looked at the floor and his shoulders tensed when he shoved his hands in his pockets.

              “I’m worried about you, Derek,” she said softly. Then Kitty drew in a deep breath and prepared herself to bluff as best she could. “The police have a description of the killer.”

              “I didn’t do it!” He objected.

              “Hey, I’m not here to accuse you,” she said, taking his arm and leading him to a set of chairs situated next to the sliding glass door.

              “They know the killer didn’t mean to kill Johnny,” she went on. “He meant to kill you.”

              Derek did a poor job of pretending that shocked him.

              “They learned of a business deal you had with the killer—”

              “What?!”

              “Just hear me out.” Again Kitty took a deep breath, unsure of how much or little to tip her hand, considering it was almost all jokers. “I’m here because if you don’t come forward, then when they find the killer they’re going to come after you.”

              “Me?! Why me?! I was practically a victim!”

              “I understand,” she said calmly. “It’s called being an accessory after the fact. If a person knows who the killer is and they don’t come forward, withholding the information is considered a crime.”

              “Kitty, the only reason I’m alive is because I haven’t come forward.”

              “He made two attempts on a man he thought was you,” she went on. “He’s not going to stop until you’re dead. We have to go to the police.”

              Derek pressed his mouth into a hard line, thinking. “If the police know so much then why aren’t they here? Why did you come to my door?”

              She couldn’t admit she knew far more than Sterling at this point so she tried to steer the conversation in a promising direction so that she could push him to reveal the killer’s name.

              “They are coming,” she lied. “Tomorrow morning, as soon as their warrant comes through.”

              “Oh my God,” said Derek, on his feet now. He was pacing, working himself into a frenzy.

              “It’s such a simple thing, Derek. Just tell me what you know and I’ll help you go to the police. You need to do this before they come after you with charges. You’re just as guilty as the killer if you continue to protect him.”

              “Enough!”

              Kitty flinched in her chair.

              “Mandy admitted the affair,” she pressed.

              “God! Does Erik know?”

              “No, but the police are going to use that detail against you and he will find out.”

              “Jesus.”

              “The only way to take control of the situation—”

              “Stop it! I need to think!”

              Panicking, Derek paced faster and faster. His head was between his hands, fingers clamping into his hair. He looked like he was unraveling and his jerking movements were becoming less and less predictable. Suddenly, Kitty was concerned for her safety, red flags firing into the sky.

              “Out!”

              She flinched again at his bark, but asked, “What? Why?”

              “Just get out!”

              He was coming at her so she immediately obeyed, hopping out of her chair and hurrying to the door. Derek was at her heels then flung the door open and shoved her out. She stumbled into the hall and heard his door slam shut behind her.

              Her heart was pounding in her chest. This didn’t make sense. Derek was behaving completely irrationally and it seemed the closer she came to cracking this thing the more the details confused her.

              In what scenario would a man protect another who had tried to kill him?

              It made absolutely no sense.

              When she caught her breath, Kitty walked briskly to the lounge that was quiet except for a few night owls nursing their nightcaps. She rounded through, making her quick way to the terrace outside where she hung back to remain out of view from the hotel rooms that lined the eastern edge.

              She had a feeling Derek wouldn’t be able to sit tight all night. He was going to try to do something, make some kind of move, and Kitty was determined to find out. She peered around the stone building siding and glanced at Derek’s glass door. Though the glass reflected the twinkling harbor across the way, she saw Derek pacing like a maniac.

              Suddenly, he stopped, grabbed the hotel phone from the nightstand and dialed. The conversation was brief, a three-word exchange at best, though Kitty couldn’t hear it, and Derek returned the phone to its home immediately after.

              Once he did, he pulled the sliding glass door open and stepped out on the terrace. Kitty had jumped back just in time and she prayed like hell he wouldn’t come this way.

              It was hard to hear his footsteps over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, but when she strained she noticed it sounded like he was walking in the opposite direction.

              Again, she peered around the stone siding. Derek was walking away, passing through the back terraces of the hotel rooms.

              Then Kitty’s spotted a shadowy figure up the way, about eight rooms past Derek’s. The figure, which appeared male by Kitty’s estimation, was waiting for Derek to reach him.

              Was it the killer?

              There was only one way to find out.

              Deducing that if she headed along the same terrace path as Derek, both he and the killer would take notice, Kitty scurried straight across the dark terrace cafe and veered right only when her ballet flats hit the dock. Picking up her pace to a speedy trot, she headed after the men just as the shadowy figure turned and walked further and further with Derek.

              She was gaining on them, but it wasn’t a good thing. Without warning the men cut left, heading across the dock just ahead. Kitty had to think fast and leap. She landed squarely behind a placard that boasted the Delamar’s century long history with Greenwich Harbor.

              When she peered out again, she could only see the men’s backs, as they jumped onto a stately yacht that was docked in the marina.

              Kitty squinted, trying desperately to overcome the dim light, as the men worked to untie the ropes that anchored the yacht. Their movements were quick and she wasn’t getting a clear glimpse of the killer’s face. Soon the yacht was free.

              This was her chance to see who the killer was and she couldn’t let the opportunity pass.

              But the yacht was puttering away from the marina.

              “Oh!” she exclaimed in frustration.

              She charged across the marina, arms pumping and feet pounding, in a stealthy sprint, as the yacht crept away. She was nearing the dock’s edge. The yacht was four feet away, then four and a half, then five, and it was then that she leapt from dry safety, arms and legs swinging as she became air born. She realized she was screaming in her effort, but didn’t care.

              Derek turned suddenly.

              “Kitty?!”

              Her gaze was locked on the killer, the back of his head, the sleek brown hair, but the man never turned to face her.

              Splash!

              She hadn’t even been close.

              Kitty was in an ice bath of harbor water and slowly rose to the surface. When she broke through, she saw the yacht sailing up the harbor.

              The killer looked back at her.

              But she couldn’t see his face.

              Suddenly, he winced and grabbed his hand, and Derek went to him.

              Two silhouettes fading into the dark night, as Kitty treaded water and then swam back to the dock.

*

              She was no less wet when she knocked on Sterling’s door than she had been when she hoisted herself out of the freezing harbor.

              “Jesus Christ,” Sterling breathed, looking her up and down, as she shivered miserably in the hall. “Get in here.”

              Her ballet flats squished soggily with every step, as Sterling cradled her toward the couch. He felt so warm against her, dry bare skin against her wet dress. She’d woken him and he hadn’t bothered to pull his pants on. His black boxer-briefs hugged him, though she tried not to stare, as he sat her down.

              “I was so close,” she explained through chattering teeth.

              Sterling pulled a blanket from the couch-back and wrapped it around her.

              “What are you talking about?”

              “I tried to give Derek the shake down,” she began.

              “The shake down? Who do you think you are, Columbo?”

              “Don’t make fun of me,” she whined, tone twisting into tears. “I was so close!”

              “I don’t think you should stay in those clothes,” he said, opening the blanket. “They’re soaked.”

              Kitty was shivering too loudly to really grasp his point, but Sterling didn’t need her on board. He began pulling her dress up from the hem. She hopped when he needed her to, and then kept lifting the gray material up and over her head, as she emphatically explained her adventure.

              “Derek kicked me out in a hurry, but I followed him. He walked up the marina with the killer.”

              “How do you know it was the killer?” he asked, drinking in the sight of her sitting in her skivvies before he closed the blanket around her.

              “My gut told me,” she stated as though that was as good a reason as any. “They got on a boat together! A yacht!”

              “Well that explains the midnight swim,” he said, meeting her gaze.

              “I didn’t see his face!"

              “Hey, it’ll be okay,” he assured her.

              “No, it won’t! The wedding’s tomorrow! There’s going to be a killer in attendance and I don’t know who it is! Why is Derek covering for him? Why is any of this happening?!” She was wailing now, her grief for poor Johnny Gibbons overflowing into self-pity. “Why do people keep dying at my weddings?!”

              Sterling held her close to shut her up, and began stroking her sopping hair.

              “Christ, you need a towel,” he uttered under his breath, though he didn’t let her go.

              Kitty’s emotions subsided and she sighed into his strong embrace.

              When he urged her back he asked, “Did you see the name of the boat?”

              “Huh?”

              “The back of each boat has a name. Did you see it?”

              Kitty suddenly burst into tears all over again.

              “Oh Jesus,” said Sterling, pulling her back in. “Let it out,” he said in soft encouragement, as he caressed her arm to both comfort and warm her up. “Let it all out.”

              Kitty took her time, letting it out then composing herself and soon she was quiet except for a few sniffles.

              “I think you should hop in the shower,” he suggested, lifting her chin in his hand so he could check out her color. “You look pale.”

              “I’ll be fine. I should get home,” she said, exhausted.

              “Kitty,” he said, staring into her eyes. He swallowed hard as though whatever he wanted to say wouldn’t be easy. Then he whispered, “I want you to stay.”

              Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart fluttered, as she whispered in response. “I want me to stay, too.”

              That night Sterling warmed her body inside and out in ways that were tender and at times hungry. Kitty welcomed every inch of him, as they kissed and rolled and merged over and over again in a torrent of ever-rising passion. After, she slept in his arms, feeling safe and secure and loved. Sterling held her. He never shut his eyes. He couldn’t. Not until he knew what he was supposed to do with her now.

              The guests were filtering into Saint Mary’s Church, the killer among them, but all Kitty could think about was her tumultuous morning waking up in Sterling’s bed.

              He hadn’t been there. His side of the bed had been cold. He’d left a note.

              Kitty’s heart had skipped a beat when she saw the folded piece of white paper with her name on it. It’d lain on his pillow.

              When she’d opened it her heart dropped. Two simple words that had yanked the rug out from beneath her: I can’t.

              Trudy burst into the ladies room where Kitty had been staring at her reflection in the mirror, studying her features, and peering into her eyes as if she could find the reason he’d left. She didn’t meet Trudy’s gaze in the mirror when she spoke. She didn’t exclaim. She was entirely spent. The rollercoaster of the worse morning of her life hot off the heels of the best night of her life had Kitty in a heartbroken daze.

              “He doesn’t know what the hell he wants,” she said softly, as Trudy rubbed her back. “I don’t understand.”

              “Awe, Honey, he’s just scared,” said Trudy.

              “Is he? I can’t tell. Maybe he’s just a jerk.”

              “Well, he is a jerk. But he’s jerking you around because he’s scared of how much he likes you. Men are strange like that. They’re very fragile. And they say women are the weaker sex.” Trudy snorted a laugh at that then concluded. “He’ll be back. You’ll see.”

              “Will I want him?” she asked, though the question was intended for not only Trudy, but also herself, and possibly the universe at large. “How many times am I supposed to bounce back after he disappears?”

              “See how you feel,” she offered. “Listen to your heart.”

              “Ugh, my heart’s a fool.” Kitty shook her head and blotted the corners of her eyes with tissue.

              “That’s why I love ‘em and leave ‘em,” said Trudy, trying to sound upbeat. She plucked a travel size bottle of hairspray from her purse and really let her beehive have it until there was a thick cloud wafting all around her. “Focus on your accomplishment,” she advised, as she tossed the spray into her purse. “Today’s your day as much as Mandy’s. Let’s try to have some fun!”

              Kitty gave herself one last look in the mirror, rolling her shoulders back and holding her head high.

              “Let’s do this,” she said, but the enthusiasm was halfhearted.

              Trudy gave her a squeeze. “Was it a fun night at least?” A coy grin spread across her face and she asked in a whisper, “Was he good in the sack?”

              “Ugh! Don’t remind me!”

              “That good, huh? Men,” she snorted. “They can be the absolute worst.”

              Trudy held the door open and Kitty passed through, smoothing the front of her blue satin dress as she stepped into the stone foyer.

              “I’ve been dying to meet this Hank!” Trudy said, excitedly. “He definitely came stag?”

              “He did,” she said, trying to brighten up. “Let me see where he is.”

              Hank Troy was standing with Erik midway down the aisle. They seemed to be in the midst of a jovial conversation, as Kitty approached with Trudy.

              “Erik, you look great,” she said. “Excited?”

              “Terrified,” he said; his tone hitching in his throat. “But in a good way.”

              “That’s good. Hank, I’d like you to meet my friend, Trudy.”

              “Trudy, yes, hello,” said Hank, offering his left hand, but not the right.

              Trudy tried not to frown as she awkwardly grasped his hand.

              “Forgive me,” he said without further explanation then quickly changed topics. “I was hoping to meet you sooner. Kitty’s told me so much about you.”

              “And I’ve heard a bit about you as well,” said Trudy, beaming. He was handsome and his height wasn’t an issue for her. Shorter men had their perks.

              Kitty milled off with Erik to give Trudy and Hank a few minutes to get acquainted before the ceremony.

              “How’s Mandy?” Erik asked. “I haven’t seen her all morning—tradition and all. She’s ready?”

              Kitty had trouble registering the question. Her gaze was locked on Hank’s pocket where he was hiding his right hand. It was peculiar.

              “Ah, she’s fine,” she said, absentmindedly, as she began to scan the crowd for Derek.

              “Kitty?” But Erik’s need for her attention escaped her.

              When she spotted Derek he looked nervous. He was biting his thumbnail and staring at Hank.

              “Oh my God!” she gasped.

              “What, Kitty?” Erik seemed to be growing agitated by her mysterious revelation.

              “Oh God,” she repeated. “Call the police.”

              “What?! The ceremony is about to start!” Erik protested.

              “You’re right, you’re right,” Kitty said, panicking to take action that wouldn’t disrupt the wedding.

              Would that even be possible?!

              She realized she was racing down the aisle, her heels a rhythm of muffled clicks against the red carpet. When she spilled into the stone foyer she fumbled her purse open and grabbed her cell phone. In an instant it was dialing at her ear.

              “Pick up, pick up, come on, don’t do this to me!”

              Kitty was tapping her foot and praying he’d take her call despite the cruel note he’d left. But he didn’t. His outgoing voice message came on.

              “Sterling! It’s Kitty! This isn’t about us. That’s not why I’m calling. I know who the killer is! You have to get to Saint Mary’s Church NOW! Please! Come quick!”

              As she lowered her cell, she felt a pit in her stomach. Why would he come? He’d obviously screened the call to avoid her. He probably won’t listen to her message until days from now.

              Kitty had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

              She stalked up the aisle, her gaze locked on Hank Troy with visions of the shadowy figure grasping his hand in pain the night prior swirling through the forefront of her mind.

              When she reached Hank, he smiled then registered her seriousness and his pleasant demeanor dropped in an instant. Trudy didn’t seem to pick up on the problem, but laughed awkwardly at the rising tension.

              “I need you to come with me for a minute, Hank,” said Kitty, taking his arm.

              “I’d rather chat with your friend,” he said, politely enough, but it sounded to Kitty like a threat.

              “Hank, please. Don’t cause a scene,” she pressed.

              “Kitty,” Trudy began. “What’s going on?”

              In her head Kitty was screaming for Sterling to barge in. She couldn’t do this alone. Not here, not in the middle of the church with hundreds of guests looking on.

              “Kitty, don’t,” warned Derek, stepping up beside Hank.

              But she had to.

              “Hank, you killed Johnny Gibbons,” she stated.

              The guests surrounding them gasped, and then ripples of murmuring confusion spread through the church but soon fell silent. All ears perked to hear what had happened to the original best man.

              Hank clenched his jaw, glaring at her as Kitty elaborated.

              “You had a business deal with Derek Coburn, a joint venture and he screwed you over, didn’t he?”

              Hank was silent as a stone.

              “You needed to take him out so the funds would revert back to you and you figured there would be no better time than in the midst of a wedding, lots of guests from all over, lots of commotion, the perfect opportunity. You knew Derek had been borrowing Erik’s car because Derek told you, but what you didn’t understand was that had been a lie. It was Johnny who was using Erik’s car. You couldn’t run him off the road in your own vehicle, so you stole Rebecca Motley’s, figuring her personal relationship with Derek would prevent her from speaking out. The parking manager identified you, more or less. When Derek showed up to the bachelor party, you realized you’d attacked the wrong man and so you made your second attempt. But you were drunk, bleary eyed and confused. You attacked the wrong man again, but this time you killed him.”

              The crowd broke out into wild gasps and exclamations and Kitty had no choice but to wait for them to hush.

              “Derek couldn’t and wouldn’t tell the police because of his love for Mandy. He knew it would destroy her if her cousin was arrested.”

              Trudy burst out when she realized her predicament. “And you were trying to set me up with this guy?!”

              “Sorry about that,” said Kitty. “I only just put it together.”

              Hank sneered at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m innocent!”

              “No you aren’t!” shouted Sterling from the back of the church.

              Everyone turned to him.

              “We just searched your yacht,” he said, stalking up the aisle toward Kitty and the killer. “We found the contract, plus your plans to kill Derek. Word to the wise, don’t record your plots for murder on a word processor.”

              Suddenly, Hank broke out and lunged at Derek. “I’ll kill you!”

              Sterling jumped in, grabbed Hank, twisting his arm behind his back, and apprehended him.

              “Hank Troy, you’re under arrest for the murder of Johnny Gibbons and the attempted murder of Derek Coburn.”

              Sterling yanked Hank down the aisle where five uniformed officers were rushing in. As he passed the killer off to them, Kitty held up her hands and tried to quiet the congregation.

              “Everyone! It’s okay! The wedding will go on as planned! Please, take a seat and we’ll begin in a few minutes!”

              Kitty locked eyes with Sterling, and a wealth of emotions rolled through her—anger, sadness, hurt, attraction, longing, and even love.

              She slowly approached him, as he met her halfway.

              Kitty stared into his dark green eyes and asked, “Are you leaving again?”

              The anguish in Sterling’s eyes lifted into kindness, and his lip curled with the hint of a smile.

              “What do you think?”

###

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