Terror in Taffeta (26 page)

Vince balked at the question. “Why do you ask?” He knew there was only one reason why I would want to get in touch with Ryan, and it wasn't for a post-wedding hookup.

“I just wanted to see if he remembers anything that could be of help.” I was bluffing, but I thought it sounded convincing enough.

“You don't think he had anything to do with Dana's death, do you?” Vince sounded alarmed. Maybe I wasn't as stealthy as I thought.

“No, no, nothing like that.” I tried to sound breezy. Best not to play all my cards up front. I didn't want Vince calling up Ryan and warning him about what we knew.

“Look, Kelsey, he hardly knew Dana. I don't think he'll be able to help you.”

“I know, but I'm doing this for Zoe, and I'm running out of options here. Now, if you hear from him, can you have him call me? I need to ask him some questions.”

Vince sounded dubious, but he said he'd see what he could do.

Right as we were hanging up, I heard a noise at the door, and my body stiffened. Were armed policemen about to come bursting through? I was being silly. Surely they'd knock first. Wouldn't they?

Brody looked up at me and gestured toward the front door. “Did you hear that?”

I nodded, and neither of us spoke.

The scrape of a key in the door lock ended the speculation. The doorknob twisted slowly, and Evan walked into the room. Wasn't he supposed to be in jail?

“Kelsey! I'm so glad you came back.” He rushed over to the couch and hugged me, but I pushed him away. I was in no mood to cuddle.

“Evan, what the hell? Drugs? Seriously?”

“I'm so sorry. I can explain.”

Explain? I was incredulous. What explanation could there possibly be for him breaking the law, lying to me, and putting me, Brody, and my business in jeopardy?

“How are you even here?” I asked. “They let you go already?”

He shrugged. “Castillo helped me out. Released on my own recognizance, but I am going to have to get a lawyer.”

Brody sat awkwardly in Evan's black leather Ibiza chair, leaving the talking to me.

I was fuming. “Evan, do you realize you could have gotten us arrested?”

“There was never any danger of that. I swear to you, there were no drugs on that plane.”

“But you're not denying it, are you?”

“It's complicated. And you don't really want to know.” He tried to take my hand, but I pulled it back and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“It's a pretty simple question, Evan. Have you been smuggling drugs or not? Yes or no.”

“No.” He stared at me levelly to drive his point home.

“Then what was that whole scene at the airport about?”

Evan sighed and rubbed his hand over his head. “I'm a pilot.”

“I believe we've established that.”

“A private pilot. Which means I don't work on salary. I rely on repeat customers who need to be flown places, and what they do while they're there, and what they bring back with them—it's their business. Do you understand?”

“So you don't smuggle drugs, you just help other people do it?”

“I fly people. Not all of them are nice people. Part of my job is not asking questions.”

“Well, that sounds like a pretty lame job, if you ask me.”

The three of us sat in silence for a moment. I didn't know what to say. Evan was staring at me intently, and Brody was busy studying his cuticles.

“Anyway,” Evan said at last. “I'm sorry. I know you wanted to go home tonight, and I'm sorry I made you miss your flight. What can I do to make it up to you?”

I was about to suggest something involving a cliff and him jumping off it, but Brody intervened. “We're going to need a place to stay. Is the foldout still available?”

“Of course,” Evan said. “I insist. That is, if Kelsey is okay with it.”

What choice did I have, other than begging Mrs. Abernathy to take us in or sleeping on a hard plastic chair at the bus station? If there had been another option, I would have taken it, but there wasn't, so I gave a half shrug, half nod to indicate that I agreed, even if I wasn't happy with it.

Evan slapped his hands on his knees and stood. “It's settled, then.”

I had to get out of the house for a while and clear my head. “I think I'm going to go visit Zoe.”

“I'll come with you,” Brody said. “We should ask her what she knows about the best man.”

“You're still investigating?” Evan asked. “I thought you were done with all that.”

“We are,” I said. I mean, I wasn't, not entirely, but I didn't particularly feel like sharing.

Brody, however, was feeling chatty. The guy just can't hold a grudge. “We want to talk to the best man, Ryan. There's a chance he might know something. It may be nothing, but it's kind of our last hope. Problem is, we're not sure where he went.”

“Wait,” said Evan. “Ryan who?”

“Ryan McGuire. He was in the wedding.”

Evan went to his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a dog-eared calendar. He flipped it open and ran his finger down the page, then looked up at us, excitement lighting his eyes.

“I may be able to help with that.”

 

CHAPTER 26

As it turned out, Evan had flown Ryan to San Diego right after the wedding to meet with some potential investors. During the course of the flight, Ryan had even told Evan that he was staying through the weekend to attend a tech conference, which meant he should still be there. Say what you will about Evan's business practices, he had turned out to be a great informant.

Best of all? It was only a couple of hours' flying time—that is, if you flew directly from San Miguel to San Diego. And thanks to the massive favor Evan felt he owed me, I now had a direct flight that was leaving whenever I wanted.

It was the perfect solution. I'd still be helping Zoe, just not from Mexico.

But before we could go, I had to figure out where to find the best man. After all, I couldn't exactly walk around San Diego with a stack of flyers.

I tried the hotel where the conference was being held, but the crisp-voiced operator on the other end of the line was no help. “I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's no one registered here by that name.”

“Shoot,” I said, hanging up the phone.

“No luck?” Brody said.

“Nope,” I said. “Maybe he decided not to go to the conference after all.”

“Or he could be staying at another hotel,” said Evan.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in my head. “Wait!” I said. “I think I know where he is.”

Brody and Evan exchanged puzzled looks. “Where?” Brody asked.

“When I was making hotel reservations in San Miguel, I remember he made a really big deal about staying at a Hilton because he's a member of their rewards program. I told him he'd be out on the outskirts of town, but he didn't care. Apparently, he was close to earning a free stay and really wanted the points.”

I grabbed my laptop and searched for the hotel chain in San Diego. Then, armed with phone numbers, I started dialing. I struck out at the first property, but at the next location the operator said those three little words I longed to hear: “I'll connect you.”

No one answered, but that didn't matter. I had confirmation that he was still in San Diego. The next morning we would leave bright and early for the two-hour flight, and if I couldn't find him at the conference, I'd stalk him until he returned to his hotel room.

In the meantime, I had some business to take care of.

First stop, the house on Calle Recreo. It was still early enough that the family wouldn't have eaten dinner yet, so I stopped into an Italian restaurant Evan recommended and loaded up on takeout. I even picked up a couple bottles of red wine, in the hopes of keeping things civilized.

Nicole and Vince were enthusiastic about my peace offering, but Mrs. Abernathy's frosty greeting told me it was going to take a lot more than pasta Bolognese and Sangiovese to get back in her good graces. While the young couple went to the kitchen to fetch plates and glasses, I sat down next to Mrs. Abernathy and tried to look dutifully contrite.

“Mrs. Abernathy, I'm really sorry about yesterday, what I said. This whole thing has been hard on all of us, and I let the stress get the best of me.”

She still looked miffed, but she didn't instantly shred me to bits, so I continued: “I've been trying my best to help. In fact, I just lost a client because I'm here helping you instead of there doing my job.”

She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “Perhaps I expected too much of you.”

I waited for the follow-up, the one where she offered a reciprocal apology, but after several moments passed, I realized that was all I was going to get. I couldn't take the silence, so I kept talking: “Anyway, I'm sorry if I've let you down. And I'm sorry I lost my temper.”

Nicole poked her head in from the dining room to interrupt our Hallmark moment. “Come on, Mom. Kelsey brought us dinner, and it looks delicious.”

Mrs. Abernathy grudgingly rose, and the four of us gathered around the table and spooned steaming mounds of the pasta onto our plates. I gave everyone the chance to dig in before I delivered my real news.

“Nicole, Vince, we have to talk.” The chewing stopped, and I heard at least one audible swallow. “I found the man who performed your wedding ceremony.”

Nicole set her fork down and stared at me anxiously. “And?”

“As you know, it wasn't actually Father Villarreal.”

Mrs. Abernathy's wineglass froze in midair. “The dead man? Well, I should think not.”

“It was a man named Leo, an actor. Someone hired him to play the role of a priest.”

“What?” said Vince, dropping his fork to his plate with a clatter. “Why would someone do that?”

Nicole's mouth made a perfect, round O.

“I wish I knew.” If only Leo had stuck around long enough for me to figure it out.

“An actor? Well done, Kelsey.” Mrs. Abernathy shook her head.

Nicole's eyes welled up with tears, and she held on to Vince as if someone were going to take him away from her. “I don't understand. Did someone want to keep us from getting married?”

“I don't know, Nicole. This whole thing is so bizarre. But don't worry, everything's fine. Remember, the civil ceremony is the one that counts.”

Nicole and Vince looked mollified, but Mrs. Abernathy was seething. “Everything is
not
fine. You know how I feel about this, Kelsey. The law might recognize the civil ceremony, but as far as I'm concerned it's the church wedding that counts. Otherwise, what's the point of doing it at all? If they're not married in the eyes of God, these two might as well just live in sin.”

I didn't agree with her assessment—married is married, and the two were legally wed—but I knew better than to try to dissuade her from her beliefs.

Mrs. Abernathy threw her napkin on the table in disgust. “You're lucky I don't ask for a complete refund.”

“That's not entirely fair, Mrs. Abernathy. You hired me to plan the wedding, and I did. It's not my fault this happened.”

“Oh, isn't it?” She fixed me with a pointed stare. “I would think that seeing to it the couple is actually married would be equally as important as suggesting floral arrangements.”

Things were going poorly. I did a quick calculation of my chances of winning this argument and came out with exactly zero. I needed to watch my step before things got out of hand. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. “Okay, tell me what you want to do. Do you want me to find a priest who can perform a do-over on the ceremony?”

“I think you've done enough already,” Mrs. Abernathy said, then got up abruptly and left the room. The angry clicks of her heels on the tile floor receded as she walked down the hall, and she slammed the door to her bedroom.

There was an awkward silence as Nicole busied herself by arranging her silverware neatly on the plate.

“I'm really sorry, Nicole, Vince. I hope you're okay.”

“We'll be fine,” said Vince.

Nicole smoothed out her place mat and looked at her husband. “It
is
weird, knowing he wasn't a real priest, but I guess it doesn't matter. Not really.” She smiled at me. “The service was beautiful, and it'll make a great story for our grandkids one day.”

“Except they'll be illegitimate, apparently,” joked Vince. Even Nicole laughed.

Phew
. I felt better knowing they were okay.

“I have some more news,” I said tentatively, folding up my napkin and laying it next to my plate. “I have to fly back to California tomorrow.”

I still wasn't ready to tell them about Ryan, so I blamed the wedding I'd just been fired from. I felt bad about lying to them, but there was a good chance Vince would try to convince me that his best friend was innocent, and nothing he could say would sway me. There was also a chance he'd warn Ryan that I was coming to talk to him, and I was relying on the element of surprise.

“I get it,” said Nicole, although she looked a little glum. “I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there for me on my wedding day, so I can't exactly ask you to skip someone else's wedding.”

“Thank you for understanding,” I said. “And I'm sorry I can't stay here and help, but I think I've done everything I can. I'll definitely stay in touch though, and I'll help Zoe's lawyers however I can.”

Nicole got up from the table and came over to give me a hug. “I appreciate everything you've done already.”

“Tell your mom…” I paused, not sure how to finish the sentence.

Nicole smiled. “We will. Don't worry about her. When all this settles down, I'm sure she'll see things differently.”

I wasn't so sure, but I smiled and nodded.

My next stop was the jail, where I waited while they brought Zoe to the visitation room. Although happy to see me, she looked gaunt and exhausted. Jail time did not seem to suit her.