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Authors: Peggy Dulle

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Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part (37 page)

BOOK: Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part
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Julie picked my feet up and inspected them. Then she pinched the skin on the top of my foot.

When I didn’t respond, she said, “Can’t you feel that?”

“No,” I reached down and pinched my own skin. It was as if it was anesthetized.

“What’s in that soap?” Julie asked the manicurist.

“It’s rosemary soap.”

“Are you allergic to rosemary?” Julie asked me.

“Heavily scented flowers make me sneeze, but other than that I have no allergies,” I told them both.

“Well, if you’d have left your feet in there much longer, you’d have third degree burns on your feet and wouldn’t be able to walk down the aisle in a few hours – you’d be in a hospital.”

Evelyn gulped, picked up the machine and immediately emptied it. I guess no one else would get to enjoy having her feet massaged.

She went back to my nails. “I don’t know how my machine got broken. I’ve used it for almost a year and haven’t ever experienced any problems with the temperature control unit.”

“That’s okay,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Amelia came in to check on us all and the manicurist told her about the machine. “I wonder if that boy who helped us carry in all our stuff accidentally dropped it and didn’t tell me.”

“Pedro would never have dropped the machine and not told you, he’s a very reliable man.”

I recognized the name and asked, “Isn’t that the man that Savanah suggested help you with the floral designs?”

“Yes, and he’s fabulous. He made all of your bouquets, plus the flower arrangement for the top of your cake, the arbor, and the rest of the floral arrangements on the tables and around the reception and appetizer area. He’s unbelievable. I’m going to hire him full time to help me. He’s fast and efficient and doesn’t mind helping in any way that I need. I’ve never had a floral designer who would help carry things in for people, set up tables, or any other help I need. He’s a dream.”

“He sounds like a great find,” Jordan said.

“Savanah suggested him?” I asked, wary of the man. After all, Savanah wasn’t really Savanah, was she?

“Yes, but I checked him out with several other wedding consultants and reception places that have an all-in-one program like I do. He’s well known and fully booked as a floral designer. I was lucky to get him for your wedding. Pedro has worked with Savanah many times and he likes her, so that’s why he agreed to help me today. He already did a wedding this morning and he usually will only do one in a day.”

“We were lucky to get him,” Jordan said.

Amelia nodded and left the room.

The manicurist patted my arm and said, “I still can’t believe I almost scalded you.”

“It’s okay, stop worrying about it. I’m fine and you’ll get a new machine.”

When she was finished she handed me over to the hair stylist.

It turned out that Gina, the blonde, was the hair stylist. We got into an immediate disagreement over my hair.

“But you must put it up,” she said as she pulled my hair tight into a rubber band.

“I want it down,” I told her.

“It’s just not done. Everyone pulls their hair up and lets little ringlets fall down on both sides. It complements the veils.”

“I like my hair down and my fiancé likes my hair down. We are leaving it down.”

She huffed but I won.

“Can I at least curl it a little bit?”

I shrugged. “That’s fine but don’t make the curls too tight.”

She nodded and plugged in her curling iron. Then she took out the rubber band and began brushing my hair. I like my hair brushed, it’s such a relaxing feeling. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the experience.

I heard a small pop, but ignored it. The makeup lady must be opening makeup bottles. Then I smelled something awful. I opened my eyes. Julie was getting a manicure, Jordan was getting a facial, my stylist was having a conversation with the makeup lady, and the outlet that the curling iron was plugged into was on fire.

“Ah!” I screamed.

“What?” Everyone screamed together.

“The plug’s on fire!” I said.

Little flames were coming out of the plug and the wallpaper on top of the plug was also on fire. Everyone started screaming and shouting orders at once. Kenny came in, took one look and left.

I started slapping at the flames with a towel that was on the vanity, just as the hair stylist yelled, “Not the towel, I used it to clean the counter of the vanity.”

The towel caught fire.

I dropped it immediately – it landed on the carpet, which immediately started to catch fire.

Kenny came in with a fire extinguisher. He shot the plug, which dislodged all of the hairstylist’s equipment. She began to scream louder.

Then he put out the towel and the rug, stamping to make sure it was totally out.

Amelia came in and said, “What happened?”

“It was just a little fire, it’s all put out now,” Kenny told her.

“What caught on fire?”

“Your plug!” The hair stylist screamed, still gathering up her supplies from the ground.

“What? We’ve never had a fire in here before and I’ve had hundreds of brides get ready here.” Amelia said, her voice with more than a hint of panic.

“It’s fine,” Kenny patted her on the arm. “Just call an electrician tomorrow and have him check the plug out. It probably has a little short in it.”

“Okay,” she said and mumbled as she left. I thought I heard her say something about a cursed wedding.

“I guess we won’t be curling your hair,” the stylists said, frowning at her curling iron and the plug.

“Thanks for putting out the fire, Kenny,” Jordan said.

“Where’d you get the fire extinguisher?” Julie asked.

“Joe went to get a new extension cord. He was having problems with his so I’ve been wandering around the place. I spotted the fire extinguisher a couple of laps ago.”

“Thank God,” Jordan said.

Kenny came over to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t have time to have a panic attack. Thanks for taking care of the fire.”

He squeezed my shoulder and said, “That’s the only job I have today.”

“What?”

“To make sure you get married today,” he smiled and left.

The stylist finished my hair, pulling a few pieces back and French braiding them along the side and then down the back of hair. It was a nice touch and I approved. Then she handed me over to Regina, the makeup person.

“This makeup isn’t flammable, is it?” I asked.

“No,” she said immediately, then picked up the bottles and started reading the labels. When she was satisfied, she asked, “Why?”

“No reason. I’m just making sure.” I smiled.

When she was finished, I looked like me, but better. It was subtle and my face didn’t break out in a rash nor did her finishing spray catch fire. All good signs.

Jordan and Julie both looked wonderful, too. They each wore a simple black cocktail dress. Jordan’s was off the shoulder and Julie’s had short sleeves. The silver and red jewelry looked wonderful with both dresses.

“Okay, it’s almost four. Time to put on the wedding dress,” Jordan announced.

Amelia brought the dress out from a closet. Everything about me was perfect – my hair, nails, feet, and face.

“I can’t wait to see your dress,” Julie said.

Jordan was smiling, too.

I was afraid to pull down the zipper. First my feet and then the fire. What are the chances that my wedding dress is one, the right dress, and two, not ripped to shreds or covered in mud or blood?

Amelia pulled down the zipper and screamed.

I put my head on the vanity and groaned.

 

 

Chapter 37

 

“It’s beautiful, Liza. It’s one of the prettiest dresses I’ve ever seen. It must have cost you a fortune,” Amelia said.

Jordan and Julie rushed over and looked at the dress.

Jordan looked at me. “My practical sister chose this dress? I think those are real diamonds on the dress.”

“It is breathtaking,” Julie agreed.

Okay, I knew I picked a nice dress, but certainly not the most expensive nor the most elaborate.

I stood and walked over to inspect the dress. It was the vintage ball gown wedding dress I saw in the bridal shop, right down to the crystals that were sprinkled between the embroidered lace on the front of the overskirt.

“This isn’t my dress,” I told them.

“Then they brought the wrong dress. But it’s only forty-five minutes until the wedding, I hope this one fits,” Jordan said as she pulled it off the hanger.

“I can’t wear someone else’s wedding dress,” I told her.

“Strip down, Sis. This is the one that is here, so I hope it fits.”

What else was I going to do? There wasn’t time to get my dress from Walnut Creek. I hoped the other bride was at least close to my size and that she wasn’t too disappointed with my choice.

I closed my eyes. Jordan slip the wedding dress over my head and then she zipped it up. I thought that it would have to be buttoned up, but the buttons were cleverly placed so you couldn’t see the zipper.

“Oh my goodness,” Julie sighed.

“Does it look that bad?” I asked, not opening up my eyes to see the disaster that awaited me.

“Open your eyes, Sis,” Jordan said.

I slowly opened one eye and then the other. The dress fit as if it was made for me. The lines were smooth and actually made me look taller. Since I am just barely five feet tall, that’s a good thing.

“I love the long train. Let’s open the veil and see what comes with this beautiful dress,” Julie said.

Jordan opened the next garment bag. The veil was a cathedral veil and extended in the back as long as the dress. On the edges were little crystals that matched the ones on the dress. The front veil hung to my shoulders and contained the same edging as the other veil.

The hairstylist helped secure the two veils and then said, “I’ll pull the smaller one over your face when you come out.”

I nodded.

There was a knock at the door and Kenny said, “Can I come in?”

Jordan looked at Julie and said, “Let’s give Liza a few minutes.”

Julie nodded and she, Jordan and the hairstylist left as Kenny came into the room. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide open and his eyebrows practically flying off his face.

“What?”

“Oh God, Stretch. I don’t know what to say.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” I closed my eyes again and cringed. Kenny would never lie to me. He’ll tell me exactly how stupid I look.

He came over and took my hand.

Oh great, he thinks I’m going to have a panic attack when he tells me that I look like an idiot.

“Open your eyes, Stretch.”

I opened my eyes slowly and Kenny’s were bright and filled with tears. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Liza.”

The use of my real name and his words brought tears to my own eyes.

Kenny sniffed, then said, “Now, don’t get us both crying or you’ll have to do your makeup again.”

I sniffed and smiled.

Kenny winked at me.

“How’s everything out there?” I nodded toward the door.

“It’s great. I’ve got everything ready to go. Pedro, the floral designer, really is a great guy. He’s helped with everything. He and I have taken over for Savanah.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we’ve made sure that everything is set up correctly. He helped me with the cake and the candy bar tables. Pedro and I have the entire event timed down to every minute, from you walking down the aisle to you and Tom leaving for your honeymoon. I rearranged the head table because we needed to add a person to it. We also helped Joe, the DJ guy, and Charles, he’s the guy that drives the carriage. Pedro added more flowers to the carriage and it’s beautiful. It’s like a fairytale, Stretch. It’s going to be magical.”

Kenny, using my same words, meant that it was all just right. He is so quick and efficient. I couldn’t have asked for a better maid of honor.

Then I frowned.

“What’s the matter, Stretch?”

“I never got you a present. I’m supposed to get you one but I never found one that was just right.”

Kenny chuckled, then his face turned serious.

“What?”

“Can I ask for what I want?”

My mood lightened. “You can have anything I can give you, Kenny.”

“Love me?” Kenny asked.

“You know I do,” I told him, squeezing his hand.

Kenny pulled a chair over and sat in front of me, clasping both my hands in his, and taking a deep breath. This was his serious pose. What did he want?

“You know that case you’re working on right now?”

“Huh? You mean the one with the thirty, no make that twenty-seven, dead people?”

Kenny nodded.

“Sure, you want to help me and Justin solve the cases?”

Kenny shook his head, leaned toward me and whispered, “I want you to forget them.”

And then, just as things sometimes do … everything clicked into place, like tumblers on a lock.

Click – Kenny’s pro bono work. Although he did some for environmental groups, most of it was for victims of abuse.

Click – Kenny’s computer ability, which probably was even better than Justin’s. He would be about to maneuver the chat rooms to find the victim and, most importantly, to find the abusers.

Click – the trinkets, just like Earl gave his mother, for others to think you are sorry for what you did, but you’re not.

Click – the way Kenny killed Emily, quickly and efficiently, like all the other people, all the other abusers – the monsters we all feared.

All the tumblers were in place and I knew.

I raised my eyes and met Kenny’s. “You …” I began.

Kenny placed his finger over my lips. “Sh, Stretch. Don’t ask a question that you don’t want to hear the answer to because I’d never lie to you, not ever.”

I kissed Kenny’s finger, he chuckled and moved it.

“I want something,” I told him.

Kenny tilted his head. “I already gave you a gift.”

I held up the beautiful antique bracelet and nodded. “I want something else, too.”

“You name it, Stretch, and I’ll get it for you.”

“You know how when I’m starting to have a panic attack and you take my hands and ground me to keep me from falling into the abyss?”

He nodded.

“I want to ground you. When you feel like you need to go into that abyss, I want to stand and hold you on the edge and not let you fall.”

“But the victims …,” Kenny began and I placed my finger over his lips.

“There are always victims, like Jessie and Danielle, Sally and James, but you and I, we can help them without becoming the monster.”

“Like superheroes,” he murmured with my finger still on his lips.

I nodded.

Kenny grinned and I removed my finger.

Then he said, “I’m not going to be a sidekick.”

“Never! You’ve always been my partner – since the first day we met, I’m not changing your status now, Kenny.”

“I can live with that,” he said, then leaned toward the door.

“Can I ask one question?” I thought about the one victim that plagued my mind.

“Penelope?” he asked.

I nodded.

Kenny ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “She was the one mistake I’ve made in fifteen years.”

“She didn’t have a secret?”

“No. There was a little girl named Miranda in her class. She was being sexually and physically abused by her father and I couldn’t get to him.”

“What about the girl’s mom?”

“She died of an overdose of heroin, two years ago. I tried everything, but the guy was rich and untouchable and, for once, I couldn’t find anyone to leverage against him.”

“Leverage?”

“Yes. Everyone, well, almost everyone, has someone that would be affected by the release of certain damaging information, sometimes it’s a family member but other times it’s a corporation or some other organization. Since I couldn’t find it on Miranda’s dad, I went to her teacher and gave her the information. I thought she’d call CPS the next day and turn the information over to them.”

I put my hand on Kenny’s arm. “What happened?”

“Miranda was killed that night. Her dad slapped her so hard that she fell and hit her head on a coffee table. I guess they called Penelope to let her know.”

“She couldn’t live with the fact that she hadn’t known about Miranda’s abuse.”

Kenny nodded.

“And the race car?”

“It was a gift from one of the boys in her class that day. She was sitting on a bench and was offering it to a little boy at the park when I found her and gave her the information. The little boy left when I came up and she put it into the pocket of her jacket. I guess nobody knew it was hers.”

“I have several more questions, Kenny.” I said, thinking about the gunshot victims and the FBI’s professional hitman scenario.

“I’ll explain everything,” He glanced at his watch, then continued, “but now, it’s time to get married, Stretch.”

I thought about what he’d just told me. Kenny
was
the nail in all those people’s coffins, he
was
the reason they were all dead, he
was
responsible – but he
wasn’t
the hammer.

Kenny slugged me on the arm.

“What?” I said.

“You thought I killed all those people?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Just for second,” I rubbed my arm, then said, “It’s time for me to get married.”

Kenny took my arm and led me to the door.

He opened the door and I heard a voice say, “I’ll take over now, Kenny.”

I looked over and my dad stood next to the door in a tailored gray tux.

“Dad!” I screamed and flung myself into his arms.

“Easy, Bobby, you’re going to wrinkle your dress and my beautiful tux.”

“I’ll go take my place. You two have maybe two minutes before she needs to come down the aisle. It’s all in the timing, remember?” Kenny said, then left us.

I nodded and squeezed my arms around my dad. He was here! I didn’t even care that he used the nickname I so disliked. He called me Bobby as a child because he said I could bob and weave better than him on the basketball court. I was ecstatic that my dad would walk me down the aisle and into Tom’s arms.

Dad leaned back and said, “You’ve got to let go or we’re going to fall, Bobby.”

I released my grip and said, “How’d you get here? How’d you’d even know I was getting married?”

“You can thank Tom for that. I think he called in a million favors and promised a million more. I found out about the wedding a week ago.” Dad took a step away from me and said, “I knew you’d look spectacular in that dress.”

I glanced down at the dress, then said, “How?”

“I called the shop where you bought the other dress because I wanted to pay for it. When I found out that you’d bought a dress that only cost a few hundred dollars I asked the sales lady if there was one that you’d seen that you really liked, but didn’t get it because it was too expensive. She said yes, so I had it fitted to your size.”

“It was a designer dress, Dad, and too expensive.”

“Your mom and I opened a special account on the day you were born. I’ve been putting money in it every month. It was for your wedding.”

“You paid Amelia and Savanah?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t know that I’d gotten a cashier’s check to pay the hit woman that tried to kill me. That’s quite the turn of fate.”

Then I finally noticed his tux. It was the same color and style as Tom’s. It was perfect.

Dad chuckled, brushing the lapels of his jacket. “Oh by the way, I changed Tom’s tux. According to the lady at the dress shop, your dress is from their vintage collection so she thought a gray pinstriped tux would look better than solid gray. I hope you don’t mind.”

I reached over and hugged him again. “Dad, you could have come in a clown suit and I would still have been thrilled.”

Dad shuddered and mumbled, “No clowns.”

Just then a short thin Hispanic man came up to us and said, “Timing, it’s all timing. We need to get you to the runway, girl.”

“You must be Pedro,” I asked.

He nodded, flipped over the small veil to cover my face, then Dad and I stepped forward. He pulled out the train to my dress, laying it perfectly flat against the ground, and then adjusted my cathedral veil, too.

BOOK: Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part
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