Murder at the Wedding Read online

  James’ silence was deafening, leading her to wonder if she’d gone too far this time. She hopped in the shower and spent the next five minutes going over their discussion in her head until a recent conversation she’d had with her own mother lately resurfaced. ‘That boy loves the very bones of you—Lord knows why, when you treat him like dirt most of the time. It wouldn’t surprise me if he runs off and leaves you high and dry one day.’ Her mother’s harsh words had shaken her to the core at the time. She had never treated James badly, not to her knowledge. He knew deep down how much she loved him, even if she didn’t demonstrate it that much. She had never regarded herself as a heart-and-flowers type of girl.

  After showering, she returned to the bedroom. Her heart sank when she found the bed empty. See, that just proves how much I love him, doesn’t it?

  The wedding was due to take place at eleven, although Geraldine had pleaded with her to show up early to help prepare her for her big day, something Ruth had grudgingly agreed to do despite Geraldine having a grown-up bridesmaid on the day. She would need to be at Carmel Cove Hall at nine-thirty. “Not a minute late!” her best friend had warned her. Ruth had gained a reputation of showing up to events of this magnitude a little late over the years.

  She strained her neck, trying to hear what James was up to. Nothing. No, wait, there, in the distance, she could faintly make out the clash of plates and pots and pans. Bless him, he was washing up for her. Why shouldn’t he? He made the damn mess!

  Ruth towel-dried her long red hair then brushed it, screeching a few times as the brush hit the odd knot at the end. Maybe I should cut it all off and have a bob instead. It would save going through all this hassle every other day. She knew she would do no such thing; she loved having long curly hair, it was a statement. She might reject the possibility to dress girlie, but it didn’t mean she had to go around wearing short hair. Lots of women preferred to wear trousers and jeans, didn’t they?

  She turned to ask Ben’s opinion. “Long or short, bubsy?”

  He offered her his paw. She lowered herself to kiss it, and Ben let out a satisfied moan. He was with her twenty-four-seven, the only constant in her life. He went to work with her at the office and even travelled in the car next to her when she ventured out on her covert investigations for clients. The two of them made up the entire staff of the Carmel Cove Detective Agency. She was proud of her achievements. The business was now in its fifth year and going from strength to strength. More and more clients were showing up at her door. This year was going to be her best to date, both in the number of cases she’d solved and in the reimbursements she’d received from clients, praising her for a job well done. She had taken over the agency from Frank Warren who had retired due to ill health. Judging by the state in which he’d left the office in and the amount of full-size whisky bottles—empty bottles—she’d discovered in the numerous drawers in her desk, she suspected he had liver problems, in that it was probably pickled and wrinkled after all these years of alcohol abuse.

  Ruth glanced over at the clock. It was already ten minutes after eight, and she hadn’t even dried her hair yet. She pecked Ben on the nose. He whimpered again and cutely used his paw to rub the spot her lips had touched. “I must get on.” He remained seated on the floor beside her, raising his head when she dried the opposite side, enjoying the warm breeze from the drier on his face. Ruth smiled. He was such an adorable dog, not a bad bone in his body. She felt sad that he’d have to spend long hours cooped up in the house today while she and James attended this damn wedding.

  There it was again, the W-word, a constant reminder, poking her with a stick.

  After drying her hair, she stood and shook the pins and needles out of her legs, regretting that she’d chosen to dry her hair on the floor instead of using the seat tucked under the pretty dressing table James had lovingly restored for her a few months earlier.

  She opened her wardrobe door. Everything was lined up according to colour—pale colours to the left and the warmer, darker colours on the right. She ran her fingers along the lighter end and plucked out the cream linen suit she’d treated herself to from the local boutique. She knew, as soon as she had laid eyes on it in the window, that she’d have to own it. It had cost her a packet, over five hundred, but James had encouraged her to purchase it. He’d even chipped in a couple of hundred of his hard-earned cash to see the smile on her face when she’d tried it on in the boutique. There was no hesitation once the lush material had slithered over her skin. She’d played the ‘I can’t afford it’ card, and that was when James had offered to stump up the rest of the cash.

  She laid the trouser suit out on the bed and went to the other end of the wardrobe, where she plucked out the red blouse she’d bought a few weeks later when her bank balance had been regenerated. The contrast made it a winning combination, in her eyes anyway.

  Ruth turned her attention to her makeup. She withdrew the stool from its hiding place, sat at the dressing table and riffled though the drawer next to her, picking out the colours she wanted to wear. She chose a subtle palette for the occasion, highlighted her vivid green eyes with a shimmering gold on her lids and applied thin, black strokes of mascara to her lashes. She had no need to slather on any foundation because the weather in the cove had been stunning so far during the summer. Her usually pale skin had turned a light golden brown within weeks. Nevertheless, she took out her bulky brush and applied a couple of lines of blusher along her cheekbones. Admiring her skills, she smiled and nodded at her reflection. “You’ll do.”

  Time was flying past this morning, and she’d soon need to complete her appearance by slipping on her blouse and suit. She was conscious of waiting until the last minute, trying to avoid any unnecessary creases before she set off. Which was foolish really, because once she got behind the steering wheel of her car, she knew the creases would appear.

  “I need to visit the loo. All the washing up is done, no need for you to get grubby this morning,” James shouted out.

  “Eww…too much information. You’re an angel. Thanks, James.”

  He chuckled “Yeah, I know, what would you do without me?”

  The door to the bathroom closed. She studied her reflection. “What would I do indeed? So why not marry the poor man?” She shrugged and left the dressing table again.

  After carefully slipping into her suit and blouse, she slid on the navy-blue high heels she’d bought to enhance her ensemble and picked up the matching clutch bag she’d had for a few years, then walked downstairs to the kitchen, ensuring Ben went before her in case he caught her and she ended up in a heap at the bottom. That would be a travesty after the effort she’d put in to getting ready.

  She heard the latch on the bathroom door open and James thud across the floor to their bedroom above. “James, I’m going to shoot off now. I’ll see you later. Will you ensure Ben does his business in the back garden before you leave? I’d hate to come home to a mess.”

  “You worry too much. He’ll be fine. Go, enjoy yourself. Send my love to Geraldine, and I’ll see you later.”

  Chapter 2

  On the drive through the quaint harbourside town she’d called home since her parents had moved here when she was ten, she could feel the buzz and excitement emanating from its inhabitants. It was the start of summer. A smattering of tourists had already flocked to the area. They were lucky. Carmel Cove was never really what you’d call inundated with ‘grockels’ as the locals preferred to call them. There was the odd Bed and Breakfast dotted around the town and a hotel up on the coastal path, but apart from that there was nowhere else to house them. Thankfully, none of the local farmers had sold off any of their land for someone to start up one of those godawful glamping sites that appeared to be in trend nowadays.

  There were several campsites on the outskirts of the next village of Lunder, but the campers who frequented them rarely came into town. Those who did venture in generally behaved themselves. They’d feel the wrath of the townsfolk if they didn’t. That
was the type of place Carmel Cove was, friendly, with a couple of hundred inhabitants, out of the few thousand, you could count on whenever trouble struck. Apart from the odd few who Ruth had fallen out with over the years, everyone was jolly and mindful of giving the other inhabitants the space they needed to live their lives unscathed.

  She waved to Denis Makey, the local butcher, who also happened to be the husband of one of her dear friends, Hilary. She pulled over and lowered the window to chat to him. “Hi, Denis, I bet you’re busy.”

  “I am, Ruth. It’s all right having these weddings going on in the town, but when you’re the only butcher around for miles…well, you can imagine what the workload has been like this week. Still, I mustn’t complain, it’s cash in the till at the end of the day.”

  “That’s right. I’d better fly. I have a jittery bride to calm down at the other end. I’ll see you at the reception later, yes?”

  “Much later. I’m on my way up there to drop off some goodies now, but I’ll be going through the trade entrance.”

  They both laughed at the way he’d said the last two words. A posh voice really didn’t suit him one iota. He was such a down-to-earth, lovable character.

  “See you there. Tell Hilary I’ve got something to share with her later that could be beneficial to both of us.”

  “Sounds secretive. Anything I should be worried about? You won’t be discussing how to bump me off, will you?” He winked and covered his heart with his hand.

  “I’d hardly likely to give you any hints if that were the case, would I now?” Ruth laughed, pressed the button to close the window and continued on her journey.

  The road wound through the coastal town and up the hill. Halfway up, she indicated right and turned into the long sweeping drive of the historic mansion where her best friend had been given the chance to wed her beloved. Ruth sighed as the grand honey-coloured stone house emerged from the trees shielding it from nosy parkers hoping to catch a gander from the main road.

  Dozens of vehicles were lined up along one side of the gravelled drive. There was a small marquee erected on the lawn off to the left, waiters and waitresses rushing in and out, dressed in black and white. She could imagine the view from above, the serving staff looking and acting like worker ants on a mission.

  No wonder Geraldine was stressed out with all this going on. She would’ve organised the whole shebang. There was no way on earth that Bradley would’ve offered to lend a hand. He was one of those people who soaked in the glory of other people’s hard work and organisational skills. Of course, that might be her just having a downer on men at the moment. Get a grip, girl. Leave the poor buggers alone.

  She removed the large wedding present, that James had pitched in with, from the back seat and locked the car door. Every step she took, with the heavy present, she pondered whether Geraldine would appreciate the effort they’d gone to when choosing the dinner service she was about to present to her. It was nothing fancy, mostly a plain cream with a splash of colour in the form of a blue butterfly on the side of the dishes. She shrugged. If Geraldine hated it then Ruth would be more than happy to use it at home, so no big deal.

  The butler approached her. “Yes, can I help you?”

  “I’m the bride’s best friend, Ruth. She’s expecting me.”

  “Ah yes, I didn’t recognise you, Miss.”

  Meaning what? That I’ve scrubbed up well and that I usually look like the dregs of society in my daily life?

  Ruth smiled tautly. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” he replied, no hint of a smile. “I’ll show you upstairs. The bride is using one of the guest bedrooms to get ready for the occasion.”

  “Thank you.” No, it’s fine, I can manage, don’t put yourself out offering to help.

  He walked ahead of her, his steps slow and steady as they ascended the grandest staircase Ruth had ever had the privilege of using. “Is everything ready?”

  “Nearly. Just a few tweaks to add here and there. Maybe you can pass that on to the bride. She came out of the room about half an hour ago in a right tizzy.”

  “Only natural I suppose. She wants the day to go off without a hitch.”

  He continued up the stairs and knocked on the first door on his right. It was opened swiftly by Geraldine—perhaps she was expecting to have to sort out yet another problem that had arisen.

  “My God, where have you been? You’re late as usual.”

  Ruth glanced at her gold watch, another gift from the man desperate to marry her, and sighed. “Two minutes. Hey, that’s good for me, and you know it is.”

  “Yes, yes. Get in here.” Geraldine grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the room. “Couldn’t you have left the gift downstairs?”

  “Thanks, I love your dress, too,” Ruth replied, smarting that Geraldine hadn’t noticed the effort she’d put in for her best friend’s wedding.

  Geraldine placed her hand to her cheek. “I’m so sorry. What a dunderhead I am. You look gorgeous, darling.”

  The bridesmaid, Carol, stepped forward with a smile and relieved Ruth of the present. “Hi, Ruth. I’m so glad you’re here.” She rolled her eyes as if emphasising the truth behind her statement.

  “Has she been a pain in the rear? A bridezilla?” Carol and Ruth laughed while Geraldine’s mouth dropped open, revealing several fillings at the back of her mouth. “Wow, someone overdosed on sugar when they were younger.” Ruth chuckled at the nonplussed expression that swept across Geraldine’s face.

  “What the heck is that supposed to mean? I swear you’re in a world of your own at times, where only you know what you’re talking about,” Geraldine chastised her. She stomped across the room and stood in the huge bay window, gazing out, surveying what was going on below them.

  “Come away from the window, it’ll only stress you out more. Everything is going according to plan.”

  Geraldine swivelled to face her and crossed her arms. “How in the dickens would you know that?”

  “I can tell. There was no one shouting when I arrived or pulling chunks of hair out. Just calm down. You look amazing by the way. Beautiful and majestic one might even say.”

  Geraldine unfolded her arms, lightly touched the dress at her thighs and spun around on the spot. “I feel like a princess. Hey, you should try it one day.”

  Ruth shook her head. “Nice try. Don’t get me started. One posh wedding a year is all this town can handle, I reckon.”

  “Does that mean that you’ll be walking down the aisle with James next year then?”

  “No, and stop twisting my words. What’s left to do before the celebrant arrives to m…marry you?” she asked, struggling in her attempt to say the M-word.

  “I’m ready. I have been for the past hour.”

  Ruth shook her head. “That was pretty dumb of you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to be a long time on your feet today. You should have made the most of it this morning. Now you won’t be able to sit down, not unless you want to crease your sumptuous dress in the process.”

  “I’m well aware of that now. Thank you for pointing out the obvious in your own inimitable way.”

  “Calm down. I was joking. Gosh, don’t go losing your sense of humour on me now, not this late in the day.”

  There was a slight tap on the door. As Ruth was the nearest, she rushed to open it. She smiled when she saw the elegant woman standing in the doorway. It was Geraldine’s mother.

  “Is she here?”

  Ruth swept to the side so Valerie could see her beautiful daughter, the sun shining behind her, making her look serene and angelic.

  “Oh, Geraldine. You look stunning.”

  “Don’t cry, Mum, you’ll start me off, and Carol has spent the last half an hour perfecting my makeup. Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s downstairs, ensuring the bar is set up properly.”

  “You mean he’s propping it up as usual. Couldn’t he behave himself just fo
r one day?” Sadness descended and clouded Geraldine’s previously happy face.

  “Now, love. Let him be. He likes a tipple now and again, there’s no harm in that. Especially on an auspicious occasion such as this. Don’t begrudge him having a good time.”

  Geraldine’s smiley face turned upside down as if a storm was brewing within her.

  Ruth was desperate to ease the conversation in a different direction, aware of how upset Geraldine could get about her father’s drinking. “When do you set off on honeymoon, love?”

  Geraldine’s dreamy smile returned. “Later this evening. I think I’m more excited about that than the actual wedding.”

  Ruth shook her head. “I doubt that’s true. I’m so happy for you.”

  They hugged gently, not wishing to crush the bridal gown.

  “Thank you, that truly means a lot. I know you and Bradley have never really seen eye to eye on certain subjects,” Geraldine said.

  “He can’t help being an ass seventy-five percent of the time.”

  Geraldine roared. “I won’t tell him you said that. He makes me happy, happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I know I’d be lost without him. He feels the same way about me.”

  “I should hope so after going to all this bother. You deserve any happiness coming your way, sweetheart. I may be a grouch sometimes when the subject of marriage rears its ugly head, but I appreciate not everyone shares the same views as me on the subject.”

  “You know James is desperate to tie the knot, don’t you?”

  “I know. He’s also aware how much I love him without the need to commit fully to him.”

  “Are you sure he’ll be willing to hang around in the future if you insist on being stubborn?”

  She stared at Geraldine. “Is that a likely possibility?”

  “In my day, you never kept a man hanging around for too long. He’d be off, chasing another piece of skirt if he wasn’t satisfied at home,” Valerie piped up.