The Wicked Wife (Murder in Marin Book 2) (16 page)

“First time.”

“I think she must have radar.”

“I wonder what she wants?”

“I don’t know,” Holly said, “But this should be fun. I hope she tells us about the wedding.”

“You don’t think she’ll invite us, do you?”

“Stranger things than that have happened.”

On any sunny weekend, Sam’s, in the small downtown of Tiburon, is packed. Their expansive deck, complete with its own boat dock, has wonderful views of Belvedere and much of the Tiburon waterfront.
 

It can be a long wait for a table, but the café’s owner, who had received a loan from William two years earlier to do an extensive renovation of the aging bar and restaurant, was quick to take Willow’s call, and to reserve a deck-side table for three.
 

The table’s waitress was duly warned, “William Adams’ lady friend Willow is coming in for brunch in a half hour and wants a table for three on the deck; take good care of her.”
 

Neither Sylvia nor Holly recognized Willow, who approached the entrance to Sam’s from the opposite side of Main Street in a new red Mercedes convertible with the specialty plate that read, “WILLOW.”
 

They waited at the door until she parked. She strolled up to them in her typical public camouflage: oversized sunglasses, and a wide brimmed sunhat. Kissing both Sylvia and Holly on the cheek, she murmured, “I’ve done a half-dozen public events this week. I’m not up for any more autographs right now.”

“That’s a lovely car. Is it new?” Sylvia asked.
 

William gave it to me last week! I love it! He’s such a sweetheart. And what a cutie, getting me that specialty plate. He said it was an added engagement gift, but I thought the ring was more than enough.” She wagged her hand adorned with her new 12-carat diamond in front of them.
 

“Wow!” Holly exclaimed.
 

“Do you feel safe wearing that out?” Sylvia asked, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
 

After all, this is Tiburon, not Tombstone. There are diamonds everywhere.

Even though it was before noon, and even though the deck accommodated over a hundred and fifty guests, locals like Sylvia and Holly were used to a long wait. But when Willow asked the hostess if she had a table for three for her and her party, the hostess grabbed three menus and said with a smile, “But of course, Ms. Wisp. Please follow me.”
 

They were seated near the far corner of the deck where they were afforded not only a full-on view of the boat harbor and the San Francisco waterfront in the distance, but a rare degree of privacy for this busy establishment. Holly and Sylvia were not sure who did what, but they were quite certain that some strings had been pulled. It was all part of the life of the rich and famous, they assumed.
 

After a discussion that covered the lovely weather, the wonderful views, and some details of the upcoming wedding, Willow got down to business. “I was wondering, Sylvia dear, what you think I could do to be more involved in the social and cultural life of Tiburon and Belvedere.”

Before Sylvia had a chance to speak, Holly jumped in and said, “What would you want to do that for?”

That stopped Sylvia in her tracks, but gave Willow a laugh.
 

“Holly, I admire a woman who says what’s on her mind.”

Holly nodded. “That’s me.”

“Well, perhaps I could help, my dear, if you told me what it is you’re hoping to accomplish,” Sylvia said.

“I think it would mean a great deal to William if I became more active in one or more of the causes that’s important to the community. I’ve already told him that I’ll get involved in the San Francisco literacy project. But since we don’t have much in the way of disadvantaged children here on the peninsula, I was thinking there must be some event, or cause, that’s important to the socially-engaged residents of Tiburon and Belvedere.”

“Yes…” Sylvia thought for a moment. “Well, there is the McKegney Field beautification effort, along Tiburon Linear Park.”

“Sounds interesting. Where is that, exactly?”

“Most people know the property, they just don’t know the name. Holly and I just walked by it an hour ago. You know Blackie’s Pasture just off Blithedale Boulevard? If you follow that popular walking path from there along the waterfront down nearly toward Belvedere, Tiburon Linear Park adjoins the big open field where the children play soccer on the weekends—that one is called McKegney. Let’s just say it needs some TLC. The benches along the waterfront—the old playground, the landscaping—it’s all been looking, well, let’s just say a little sad in recent years.”

“Who is involved?”

“Oh, all the names! It’s a Who’s Who of local society: Pamela Botherton, Cynthia Buckley, Vivian Green, Julia Hassie, and several others.”

Willow graced her with an angelic smile. “Sounds perfect. How can I get involved?”

“You sure you want to?” Holly asked again.

“Yes, Holly, I’m sure. What’s important to William is important to me.”

“I think it would be wonderful if you hosted a lady’s lunch for all of them.”
 

A sly smile lifted the cupid bow corners of Willow’s lips. “I’ll do it! And I want the two of you there.”

Sylvia nodded in approval, whereas Holly quickly asked, “Um…why would you want me there?”

“Besides the fact that I think your refreshingly honest? Because I want to make sure that we get ongoing coverage of the good work we’re doing in the
Peninsula Standard
.”

Remembering her long holiday list and the value of each box of Willow Wisp perfume, Holly grinned and said, “I can make sure of that.”

Not to be left out, Sylvia added, “And I’ll make certain as well, too.” She’d come to the quick conclusion that there would be no better time to broach the topic utmost on her mind: “You must be getting excited about the wedding, it’s a little over three weeks away!”

“Oh, I am, Sylvia—beyond words! And I have something I need to tell both of you”—she leaned in conspiratorially—“but I am
so
embarrassed, I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

Holly and Sylvia leaned in as well. “Whatever it is, certainly you can tell Holly and me,” Sylvia assured her.

“I realized that with all my travels and appearance commitments, I didn’t take the time to check on you and Holly regarding your invitations—with a plus one, of course.”

“Oh! My! That’s
very
sweet of you!” Sylvia said with great joy. “I can’t speak for Holly, but Jack and I will be thrilled to come!”

“I’m in,” Holly said quickly, wondering whom she would choose as her plus one. Then she took a stab at a quick idea and went for it. “You know, Willow, if you really want to assure yourself of getting great ongoing coverage, you should invite my publisher, Rob, and his wife, Karin. That is, if you have the room.”

“Have the room? We’re doing the reception at the house; I suspect William and I will have two hundred there before we’re done with our list. Better to make everyone feel included than to have any hurt feelings.”

Sylvia gave her a broad wink. “You’re wise beyond your years, my dear.”
 

Willow lowered her sunglasses. “I try, Sylvia. Believe me, I try.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Why the hell do I want to go to the Adams-Wisp wedding?” The small vein to the right of Rob’s forehead began to pulse, a sure sign that he was not pleased.

“I know high society is not your thing,” Holly began, “But for starters, Karin is going to string you up alive if she finds out that both of you were invited to Marin County’s wedding of the year—no, of the
decade
—and you tossed the invitation in the round file.”
 

“And who’s going to tell her?” Rob said knowingly.

“Holly batted her lashes. “Me!”

“I kind of guessed that.”

“Oh, come on, boss! It’s going to be
fun
.”

“‘Fun’ is a Saturday with Karin and the kids at Stinson Beach—
not
putting on a suit and tie, and going to some obscenely extravagant wedding filled with pretentious people.”

“Oh, Rob, you’re just an old fashioned hippie at heart. Look, as your mother told you when she’d drag you to the annual crab feed at the Star of the Sea Church, ‘You’re going, so get over it.’”

Rob had both Karin and Holly in his life long enough to know when he was outnumbered. There was nothing he could do but accept the upside. “Karin is always telling me that I never take her anywhere special. This should cover me for
the next year.
”

“God, you are one cheap son-of-a-gun!”

“Cheap? You know what this is going to cost me? Do you think Karin’s going to Belvedere’s royal wedding without new shoes, new dress, hair done, nails done, and God only knows what else?”

“That’s life in the fast lane, pal. You got to pay to play.”

Christmas came early for Holly. The following day, a box arrived for her at the office with ten bottles of Willow Wisp perfume inside. Holiday shopping done, mostly, she thought with a smile.
 

Of course, Rob and a couple of other men on her list would expect something other than perfume. “Damn…men,” she muttered.

Sylvia called to report that she had received the same gift.
 

“It’s very nice of her, but I imagine she wants something for it,” Sylvia opined.

“I think it’s what she told us—basically, good publicity from her local paper,” Holly reminded her. “Fine with me. In fact, if Rob has to go out of town, I might give her a headline announcing she’s The
Standard’s
Woman of the Year.”

Sylvia paused. “I didn’t know we had such an award.”

“We do now! Which brings me to my question—what can we do for Willow?”

Sylvia sighed. “Well, I’ve called the usual suspects and told them about Willow’s desire to lead the McKegney Field revitalization project. Everyone, including Pamela, said they were delighted to have her involved.”

“That’s surprising. At William’s party, it looked to me as if they were giving her the cold shoulder.”

Sylvia giggled. “Yes, but that was before they’d received their invitations to the wedding.”

“Gosh! When Willow wants to make friends, she doesn’t waste any time, does she?”

“I should say not. I imagine that’s how she went from small town kid to toast of the fashion world in such a short time. When she sets her mind to doing something, nothing gets in her way. It’s fascinating to watch.”

“If she can take care of two-thirds of my shopping list every Christmas, she’s okay in my book.”

“When I first interviewed all the local society gals about Willow, I thought she’d have some rough going if she wanted to fit in,” Sylvia admitted. “I suppose I was wrong. It looks like the future Mrs. William Adams is off to a very good start.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As is the case with nearly every wedding, the day of the grand event seemed to arrive quickly.

The Willow-William story had moved out of the
Belvedere Buzz
column and onto the front page of the
Peninsula Standard
, which particularly delighted Sylvia because the story about the exciting couple’s marriage was written under her byline.