Derek recognized my distress and instantly alerted the maître d’ that with Rod’s unexpected arrival we would need one more additional place setting. The man handled the news with complete aplomb, which was so much better than the way I was tempted to handle it. I had never been prone to tantrums, but this latest surprise was putting me to the test.
“Rod,” I said tightly. “What a surprise.” Coldly furious, I looked from him to Heather and back again. This was beyond rude. Tonight was about Derek and me and our family and close friends. Rod had no business being here and everyone knew it.
“I know I’m imposing,” he said sheepishly, clearly aware that he never would have been invited if not for Heather. “But I happened to run into Heather and she insisted. I hope you don’t mind.”
He knew I minded, and I seriously doubted that Heather had insisted. I gave Heather a quick glance and her face was a mask of serenity. That was her tell, I realized. Way back when, if Rod was up to something, Heather would maintain a façade of eerie calm, as if mentally distancing herself from the situation. Clearly nothing had changed, so I knew there was more to the story than what Rod had said.
I couldn’t help but wonder if they were sticking together in order to provide another alibi for each other. But then, I couldn’t think of anything going on tonight that would necessitate an alibi. I chalked it all up to my being utterly annoyed with both of them and vowed to ignore them as much as possible.
“Wonderful,” I said finally, unwilling to make a scene. “Please have a cocktail and enjoy yourselves.” I would’ve loved to have taken him by the arm to the door and told him to get out. But I knew that would’ve upset my mother and Meg. Things were awkward enough without adding to my real guests’ discomfort. Rod was here and we would all have to play nicely together. Or die trying.
Rod gave a thumbs-up and strolled toward the bar. I grabbed Heather’s hand before she had a chance to follow him. “You insisted?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s so full of it. He almost started crying until I broke down and agreed to bring him with me. I know I shouldn’t have but, honestly, Brooklyn, I didn’t think you’d mind that much. After all, he just lost Sara. And you know me. I’m such a sucker for a sad face.”
I slid a glance at the man in question, who was smiling at the bartender. As for Rod being the grieving husband, he was showing no signs of it tonight. “Yes, you’re a sucker,” I said, forcing myself to smile.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he behaves.”
Derek would make sure the man behaved. I had no doubt about that. I glanced around. “I have to get to know my future in-laws, but give me the high sign if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine. And I really am sorry.” She gave me a hug.
I sighed. “Just have a good time.” I watched her wander off. I supposed that if Rod was here at the restaurant, he wouldn’t be trying to break into our home. So I decided to relax and enjoy myself.
The evening turned out to be so much more fun than I could’ve hoped. Rod and Heather were both polite and friendly to the other guests, and the rest of Derek’s family members were as charming and smart as his parents. His brothers were all gorgeous, as I might have mentioned before, and my cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much at their adorable ways of flattering the bride—that would be me—and teasing the groom, their brother. Each of his brothers’ wives greeted me with open arms and graciously welcomed me into their ranks. And their darling children were so well behaved, it was scary.
Our two families seemed to fit together as though we had always been friends. I’d heard enough stories over the years about nightmare in-laws that I knew I was lucky to have these wonderful people.
The dinner itself was phenomenal, as we had known it would be since this was one of our favorite restaurants in the city. Dad had brought the very best bottles of wine from Dharma to serve the guests. The service was wonderful and I told myself that after the week we’d had, Derek and I deserved a smooth, lovely evening.
Then halfway through dinner, Derek’s father, John, decided to drop a bombshell. He stood up and tapped his wineglass with his spoon. “I know we’re celebrating a wedding, but I have an announcement to make.”
Everyone made a point of mimicking him, clinking their glasses with their utensils until we were all laughing again.
“Go ahead, Dad,” Derek said when the commotion died down.
John cleared his throat. “I’m thrilled to tell you that your mother and I are in the process of buying a house in Dharma.”
Beside me, Derek jolted and I looked at him. It was so unusual to catch him off guard at all. I sort of enjoyed seeing the flash of emotions dart across his face. Pleasure, worry, and maybe just a touch of fear. I almost laughed, really. He’d seen me dealing with my own parents all the time and now he’d be having the same experiences.
When the applause and laughter died down, John continued. “We plan to live half the year in Cambridge and the other half in Dharma. And of course, both of our homes will always be open to any of you who would care to visit.”
I thought it was wonderful. Mom and Meg had mentioned going house hunting in the wine country, but I never thought Meg and John would actually find a place and want to buy it.
“Wait a minute,” Dalton shouted. “No, no, no!” Since he was now living in Dharma with my sister Savannah, his parents’ decision seemed to be hitting him the hardest.
“What Dalton meant to say,” Dylan interjected quickly, “was congratulations, Mum and Dad!”
There was more cajoling and laughter as my own father draped one arm around John’s shoulders. The two of them looked so pleased with the announcement, it was hard not to grin back at them. My mom and Meg were sitting close together, looking so happy, it was as if they were long-lost twins suddenly rediscovering each other.
“Then why is his face so red?” Douglas asked, chuckling at his baby brother’s discomfiture.
“I believe Dalton turns red when he’s happy,” his father said drolly. “Just as Derek does.”
I stared at the love of my life and noticed that he was still a little wild-eyed as well. But the smile curving his mouth told me he liked the idea of having his parents living closer half the year—he was just going to need a little time to get used to it.
“Derek’s face is red because he’s flushed with eagerness to take his bride. Dalton, on the other hand, must be delirious with joy, since Happy is his middle name,” Duncan said.
“Huh,” Dylan said. “I thought his middle name was Berk.”
Even I laughed at that one, having learned a while back that berk was British slang for idiot.
Dalton wasn’t taking any of it. He stood and shook his finger at Derek. “My parents are moving in practically next door to me. This is your doing. Admit it.”
Derek laughed even harder and was joined by his other brothers. He took my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. I shot a look at my own parents, who were clearly thrilled at having their new friends move into the neighborhood.
Dalton scowled at his mother. “I move ten thousand miles to get away from you, and now you’re going to move in next door? I’m not sure I like that.”
“Ten thousand miles isn’t nearly enough when a boy misses his mum.” Meg giggled. “You silly goose. You’re not fooling anyone. We all know you love the idea.”
Dalton rolled his eyes, but his mouth was quivering as he tried not to smile. “At least promise me you’ll only be here half the year.”
She tossed a chunk of her dinner roll at him. “We promise. For now.”
“And she attacks me with bread products,” Dalton griped. “Do you see why I had to move?”
“You poor bugger.” His oldest brother, Douglas, clapped Dalton on the back. “The good news for us is we’ll all have a place to stay in the wine country.”
“Hear, hear,” Duncan cheered. “And the parents will be out of our hair for six months at a time. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
“Oh, come now,” John balked, though I could see a twinkle in his eyes. “When have we ever been in your hair?”
“What an unsavory image,” Daphne proclaimed, to more laughs. She was happily married to Duncan and came from a fabulously wealthy family who built jets for the British government. She insisted she was a simple wife and mum, but I had a feeling her security clearance might have been higher than any of the men’s.
Derek and his brothers continued to chuckle and tease each other and tell wonderful stories throughout the meal. I was proud to say that my family members held their own. More than once I noticed Savannah’s eyes glistening with happy tears and I knew she was thrilled with the news that Meg and John would be spending more time in Dharma. Ever since Dalton moved halfway across the world to live with her, Savannah and Meg had become such good friends, I was actually a bit jealous of her.
My younger sister China and her husband, Beau, sat with their adorable daughter seated between them. Hannah was clapping and giggling, clearly loving the laughter and good-natured shouting at the table.
London, our baby sister, sat next to her charming husband, Trevor. We often teased him about being a slacker because he was not only a brilliant physician but also a renowned wine expert. They had left their twins, Chloe and Connor, at the hotel with a babysitter because, as London had stated when she walked in, “I’m going to party all night.”
I caught John’s eye and we both smiled. When he winked at me, I fell in love all over again. The man and his wife had raised a beautiful family who loved and joked with each other as much as my family did, and I couldn’t be happier knowing I was about to become a part of it all.
I gazed around the table, hoping everyone here shared my happiness. When I got to Heather, she blew me a kiss, making me laugh. Rod sat next to her and the look on his face in that moment gave me a chill. He wasn’t looking at me, thank goodness, because he wasn’t smiling at all. In fact, he wore a look that was so sinister I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he was planning my demise right here at the table.
As soon as I had the thought, I wondered if maybe I was just being paranoid. After all, his wife had just died a horrible death. It could be that he was simply in mourning. But since overhearing his conversation with Cornelia yesterday, I had my doubts.
Derek’s phone beeped and he stole a look at the screen. Standing, he murmured, “I’ll be right back.”
“What is it?” I asked. “What happened?”
He scowled. “It’s Mitch. Someone tried to break into our building.”
“Sorry he got away, boss.”
Derek and I stood next to Mitch’s car on the opposite side of the street from our building.
“Don’t worry about it, Mitch,” Derek said. “I’m just grateful that you prevented him from getting inside.”
Mitch was grumbling and the scowl on his face could have frightened small children. “Your building security is pretty tight, boss. He probably wouldn’t have made it inside anyway. Still, I’m pissed at myself for letting him escape.”
“But you got a look at him and that’s important.”
“Not much of a look, but I’m hoping what I saw might help.”
Earlier Mitch had insisted that we not rush to leave the party because the excitement had blown over and our apartment was still safe. So we stayed for another hour and managed to thoroughly enjoy ourselves and our guests. Some of the heartier folks were going back to the hotel bar to continue the party while others were off to bed. Heather and Rod both hugged me and thanked me again. Rod even apologized for crashing the party but said he was glad he did because he had a great time. I was in too good a mood to be angry and wished them a safe trip back to their hotel.
When we finally got home, I was happy to see Mitch still sitting in his car across the street from our place.
“No more activity tonight, boss.”
“Can you describe what the guy looked like?” I asked, rubbing my arms to ward off the cold night air.
“He was wearing a baseball cap, so his face was in shadow,” Mitch said. “All I could tell was that he was tall and heavyset.”
“Was he bald?” I asked.
“No, he had a full head of hair.”
“But you said he was wearing a baseball cap,” Derek said.
“Right, but his hair stuck out around his ears.”
“Dark hair?” I asked.
“From what I could see, thanks to the light above the front door, I’d say yes, it was dark brown.”
We thanked Mitch and said good night. Once we were inside the building, I said, “I guess we can’t blame this on Rod.”
“Not unless he’s in cahoots with someone else.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time Heather was on hand to provide him with a perfect alibi for the evening.”
“Or vice versa, darling.”
I frowned. “That’s right. Seeing Heather stroll in with Rod tonight made me so angry, I wondered how I could’ve forgotten that she was still a murder suspect.”
“After carrying a grudge for twelve years, she certainly has motivation,” he said.
“I’ll say.” The elevator door opened slowly. We walked inside and I pushed the button for the sixth floor. “You know, I was thinking that Mitch’s description sounds a lot like Thuggy Guy. I mean, you know, the other guy in the photos. When I first saw his picture, I thought he looked like a thug.”
“Yes, I know who you’re referring to,” he said, smiling. “And you’re right, the description does sound like him. I think I’ll look at our security camera footage tomorrow to see if we can get a better shot of whoever tried to break in. And Inspector Lee took a copy of his photo and she’s running it through their law enforcement systems as well. I can’t see that her system would yield anything that ours didn’t, but you never know. I’ll give her a call in the morning.”
“That all sounds really good,” I said, as we stepped out into our hallway. “But we may have a little scheduling conflict if you were planning to wait until tomorrow to work on this.”
“Ah, yes.” He nodded somberly. “Tomorrow is our wedding day.”
“I’m happy you remembered,” I said, slipping my arm through his. “But we have an even bigger problem if we were hoping to wrap up this murder investigation soon. The librarians’ conference ends tomorrow and anyone who might be considered a suspect will be going home. So we’ll lose our best chance to get any more answers from Rod or Cornelia or Heather. Or even Thuggy Guy. I doubt he’s a librarian but he showed up for the conference so he might be planning to leave tomorrow.”
Derek’s jaw was clenched as he nodded. “Then I’ll take care of this tonight.”
True to his word, Derek rolled up his sleeves and got to work while I made him a cup of coffee. He called up the security camera video, but couldn’t get a good look at our would-be burglar’s face. Then, on the off-chance that his company’s facial recognition program had hit a snag, he spoke with the analyst working the night shift at his office. The guy was happy to run Thuggy’s photo through the system again.
He also texted the original photo of Thuggy Guy to Mitch, hoping he might be able to say whether this was our intruder or not.
On a hunch, I put in a call to the Glen Cove College Library, where Sara had worked. Thanks to their automated system, I was able to get the number for the librarian in charge of collections. Naturally she wasn’t in her office at ten o’clock on a Saturday night—actually midnight her time, I realized—but I left a detailed message asking whether Rod Martin had called them regarding his wife, Sara, and the altered copy of The Three Musketeers. I requested that the woman call me back at her earliest convenience, and figured I would hear from her sometime on Monday. That was okay, I thought, since we weren’t leaving for Paris until Tuesday. Rod had probably called to give them the information, but I felt better for having followed through with the college myself.
I didn’t know what to believe about Rod, but I hadn’t appreciated him throwing Sara under the bus as soon as I told him about the forgery. I wasn’t buying his innocent act, especially after catching the angry words he had exchanged with Sara’s boss, Cornelia.
On the other hand, it was just weird the way Sara had given me that rare though forged book. She had admitted that she wanted to upstage Heather, but besides that, I had to wonder if maybe she just wanted to get rid of it. She had to have known it was forged. Was Rod right? Was Sara a little shady, too?
I was too tired to think about Sara and Rod so I turned off my brain and just relaxed on the couch with Charlie and Derek, who sat with his computer on the coffee table, drinking coffee.
I tried to stay awake until he was done but ended up dozing on and off for the next hour. At one point I heard him speaking French to someone on the phone and wondered if he had also sent the photo to Interpol. I spoke a little bit of French but I was so sleepy I couldn’t be sure if he was talking about killers and thieves or making restaurant reservations for our honeymoon in Paris.
I woke again when he lifted me up and carried me to bed.
“Did we get him?” I mumbled.
“We got him,” he said, as he reached to turn off the lamp on my night table.
“I’m so proud of you.”
He kissed my cheek. “I love you.”
“Mm. Me, too. Are you coming to bed?”
“Yes.” He tucked the sheets around me. Seconds later, he climbed into bed next to me and I was sound asleep again before he turned off his light.
We both awoke early the next morning, and after washing my face and brushing my teeth, I raced to the coffeepot. The sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant blue, and I blessed the weather gods who had given us such a beautiful wedding day.
“Good morning,” I said, greeting Derek who was already busy in the kitchen. “Thank you for making coffee.”
“It’s the least I can do on our wedding day.”
“Aww, happy wedding day,” I said, and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I love you.”
“Same to you, darling.” He kissed me soundly and we clung to each other for a long moment.
After a while, I sniffed the air. “Is that bacon I smell?”
“Yes, it’s staying warm in the oven.”
I gazed up at him. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“It’s been several seconds,” he murmured.
“I do. I love you so much.”
“You love bacon.”
“It’s sort of the same thing, right?”
He laughed. “Go sit down and drink your coffee or I’ll make you help me cook something.”
“We both know what a bad idea that would be.”
“You’re right. I rescind the threat.”
“Good thinking.” Because breakfast would take some time, I retrieved my computer from my office and set it on the island counter. While I drank coffee and watched Derek, I checked out the newest batch of selfies my students had sent from the conference. Selfies. For heaven’s sake, I’d completely forgotten about the picture Derek had identified in the middle of the night. In my defense, I was half asleep when he mentioned it.
Meanwhile, Derek separated an English muffin and slipped both halves into the toaster. Then he began chopping up shallots and chives for the scrambled eggs.
“Tell me what you found out about Thuggy,” I said, having grown fond of that name.
“He’s a book collector from Prague,” Derek said as he scooped up the minced chives and dropped them into the scrambled egg mixture.
“A thug from Prague?”
He smiled. “We don’t actually know that he’s a thug.”
I glanced at the computer screen. “Oh, here he is again in this photo.” I tapped the screen. “Looks like he’s talking to someone, but it’s not the FBI guy.”
“I’ll see it in a minute,” he said as he buttered the English muffin. “Tell me about the guy he’s talking to.”
“Okay. He must be short, because Thuggy towers over him in this shot. He’s completely bald and wears little John Lennon glasses. He looks very intense and angry, like a Trotskyite.”
Derek wrapped the buttered muffin in foil and stuck it in the oven to stay warm. He began to heat up the frying pan, then turned and smiled. “Have you seen a Trotskyite before?”
“Sure. Mom and Dad’s friend Leon was a Trotskyite. He used to bring over copies of People’s World for us to read.”
Derek frowned. “I’m not familiar with People’s World.”
“It emerged from what used to be called The Daily Worker. You know, the Communist Party newspaper?”
“You used to read the Communist Party newspaper?”
“Well, Leon asked me to, and he was Dad’s friend. The articles were impossible to understand so I had a hard time. Of course, I was six years old at the time.” I shrugged and smiled.
“A budding Bolshevik.”
I laughed. “Oh sure, that was me. Anyway, Leon would quiz us on the articles, but if we got something wrong, he would get angry and lecture us. I used to cry and Dad finally asked him not to come over anymore. I can still remember how Leon called Dad a deluded Menshevik just before he slammed the door. And we never saw him again.”
“Deluded Menshevik.” Derek grinned. “Harsh words.”
I smiled at that. “Oh yeah, it was quite the smackdown. I had no idea what any of it meant, but to my six-year-old brain it sounded as if he had cursed my father to the devil. It made me really mad, but Dad just laughed it off. Told us Leon’s name wasn’t really Leon, after all. It was Archie. He changed it to Leon because that was Trotsky’s name. So basically he was just a fanboy. From then on we referred to Leon as Archibald.” I shook away the memory and turned back to the photo on the screen. “Anyway, come look at this guy.”
Derek poured the egg mixture into the frying pan, adjusted the flame, and walked over to look at the photo. “They are certainly talking intently. They must know each other.”
“I think so, too.”
“This one is a little out of focus. Does he show up in another shot? Maybe one that shows him head-on?”
“I’ll keep looking.” I pulled up six more photos. “Here’s Thuggy again, but . . . oh, good, here’s Leon again. And this is a perfect shot.”
“Leon,” he said. “That’s what we’re calling the bald guy?”
I smiled. “It suits him.” I scanned the other photos. “Oh, and here they are again, but look how they’re pretending to ignore each other in this shot.”
Derek took a look at both photos and pointed to one of them. “Send me that shot, will you, love?”
“Sending right now.” I clicked on it and forwarded the shot to Derek. “Done.”
A moment later, his phone beeped. “Message received.” He checked the eggs, then picked up the phone, typed out a text, and sent it on to someone in his office. A moment later he was back at the stove, resuming his duties as breakfast chef as though he weren’t a high-powered security expert trying to solve a brutal murder as well as a rare-book forgery on his wedding day.
I poured us both more coffee, then said, “So let’s go back to Thuggy.”
Derek played along. “We’ve assumed all along that he came here looking for a book.”
“Should we assume something else besides that?”
“Perhaps he came here looking for a book seller.”
I gazed at him, then nodded slowly. “You mean Rod? Do you think Thuggy is after him? Is that why Rod keeps freaking out whenever he sees the guy?” I stared at the photo again. “He is pretty scary-looking, thus the name Thuggy.”
“I have no idea, but it’s a possibility. Perhaps Rod promised him a book and hasn’t yet delivered on the promise.”
“If that’s true, then it’s all about The Three Musketeers.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Derek said, obviously trying to soften the blow.
“He wants that book,” I said flatly. “And Sara gave it to me. Doesn’t that make me a target?”
Derek’s gaze hardened. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Strangely enough, I wasn’t comforted. “So you really do think I’m in danger.”
He turned the heat off. “I don’t, actually. But I do think there are several people out there who are desperate to get their hands on this book.”
“What can we do?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Shall we make it available to them?”
I stared at him. “You mean, like an enticement? We tell them we have the book, we lure them out into the open, and then . . . what? Sell the book to the highest bidder? Have the police arrest them?”
“Perhaps Inspector Lee will have some ideas.”
“I’m sure she will.” I let out a short chuckle. “But what exactly do we tell her? And if we do entice one of these buyers to show up, do we first let them know that the book has been tampered with?”
“No.”
I smiled. “I agree.”
“Call it a hunch,” Derek said dryly, “but I doubt that Rod has mentioned that minor detail to the prospective buyers out there.”
“Of course not, because that would deflate the price.”
Either way, I had made up my mind that Rod was not a good guy. At best he was a grifter, and at worst, a vicious, clever killer. Had he and Cornelia been operating a book forgery ring behind Sara’s back, or was she involved as well? The thought actually depressed me. If our hunch about Rod was true, then Sara, who had lived with him all these years, had to have known he was a con artist. Was it easier to go along with him than fight him? Or was she the one who ran the grift?
Derek scooped the eggs onto our plates, gave us both two slices of bacon and half of the English muffin, grabbed jam and salsa from the fridge, and came and sat down across from me.
“This looks wonderful, Derek.”
“It should fortify us for a few hours.”
We enjoyed our meal in silence for a minute or two, then I glanced up at him. “Based on Mitch’s description, we’re assuming the guy who tried to break in was Thuggy.”
“That’s safe to say.”
“So how does he know I still have it? I might’ve already given it to the police.”
Derek looked at me. “But more importantly, why did he pick last night to try and break in? Did he know we wouldn’t be home?”
Disgusted, I set down my coffee mug. “If he knew that, then Rod had to be the one who told him. I knew it. I knew he was trouble from the very start. And now he’s trying to get me killed! We have to call Inspector Lee.”
“I called her last night and told her what I’d learned—which wasn’t much. I also mentioned that if she didn’t put a tail on Rod, then I would.”
“My hero.”
“And you’re mine,” he said simply.
I beamed at him. “Let’s call Inspector Lee right now. I’ll tell her I’m bringing the book with me to the Covington, which is what I was planning to do anyway. I don’t have time to appraise it so I’m going to ask Ian to do it. I want to know what it’s worth after being tampered with.”
Derek called on his phone and she picked up after the first ring. “Don’t you two have better things to do with your day?”
“We do have some plans for later this afternoon, but right now we wanted to let you know that we’re bringing the book with us to the Covington.”
“Planning to use it as bait?”
“Well,” I said, taken aback. “Sort of.”
“That’s a really bad idea, especially on your wedding day.”
I explained that I had already decided to ask Ian to appraise the book while we were on our honeymoon. But just how we would actually bait the hook would take some planning.
She sighed. “Look, I have the afternoon off because I’m going to the wedding of two crazy people. But I’ll try to get a patrol car over there, just to be safe. Just, you know, don’t do anything stupid.”
We talked for another few minutes, then Derek thanked her and ended the call.
I glanced at my wristwatch. I had planned to give Derek the Shakespeare book this morning, but now I realized it would be better to wait and give it to him tonight after we got home. After we were married. The thought made me smile.
“Is it getting late?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s almost nine and I have to be at the Covington at noon. It’ll take me at least an hour to get ready, so realistically we have about one hour to figure out how to bait the hook.” I looked at him. “Is that enough time to catch a killer?”
“When it’s us doing the catching, my love,” Derek said, lifting his coffee cup in a toast, “more than enough.”
After I cleaned up the kitchen, I made a few phone calls. First I called my mother to make sure the family was awake and feeling good.
“We’re in the hotel coffee shop with Meg and John and we’re all perfectly healthy and happy. You should be soaking in a tub and fluffing yourself up, not worrying about us.”
“Mother, I’ve never fluffed myself up in my life. I don’t even know what that means. But look, making sure you’re happy is one of the things that helps me relax. So actually I’m doing both.”
“That makes perfect sense in the weirdest possible way. I love you, sweetie. See you soon.”
Next, I contacted my bridesmaid wrangler and best friend, Robin. “Everything okay with you guys?”
She laughed. “Austin and I are sitting in the booth next to your parents. I know you must be freaking out because you’re wasting precious time making dumb phone calls.”
“They’re not dumb,” I insisted. “They’re important to my peace of mind.”
She snorted. “Hang up the phone and go do something fun. Like pack for your honeymoon.”
“I’m already packed.”
“I’ve never understood how we got to be friends. You’re such a pain. See you later.”
“Love you. Don’t be late. You’re in charge of everything.”
“I know. I’ve already talked to the caterers and the flower people. Ian was there early to open up the Covington and let them into the garden and the kitchen and the banquet room. The cake is there, too, sitting on a shelf in the walk-in refrigerator. Laura, our hair and makeup lady, will meet us at noon in Ian’s office, hereinafter known as the girls’ dressing room. The photographer and his crew will also be there at noon to start shooting ambient shots of the grounds and the views, then he’ll come to the girls’ dressing room at one o’clock. The musicians will set up at two o’clock in the garden and the DJ will show up promptly at four.”
“So you’ve been slacking off.” I smiled as I pictured her rolling her eyes.
“Yes. That’s why I have to hang up now.”
“I love you.”
“Shut up. I love you. Good-bye.”
I took a quick moment to remember everything Robin had just said. She had been my best friend since we were eight years old and I couldn’t have loved her more than I did right at this moment. This was going to be the most beautiful day ever.
After that I started on the not-so-fun calls. First I contacted Rod and left a message for him. Then I reached Heather’s voice mail and left a similar message. My hope was that in case Rod didn’t get the message, Heather might run into him and tell him.
I checked my watch again and walked into Derek’s office, where he was staring at some diagram. San Francisco sunshine streamed in through the windows and lit the room up like a painting. While I studied Derek, I noticed what he was studying. It had taken me a moment to realize it was the layout for the Covington Library.
“Are you really memorizing the layout of our wedding venue?”
“Of course. You never know when you’ll have to access a different route in or out.”
I tipped my head to one side and smiled. “This is just something you do, isn’t it? You never know when someone will attack. Did you do it for our dinner last night?”
He smiled blandly, but said nothing.
Of course he did and of course he wouldn’t admit to it. Derek was all about security—especially when it came to me. And I loved that about him.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t want to know. I mean, I do, but . . . never mind.”
“Did you need something, love?”
I had to think. “Oh yeah, I was thinking we’ve got just enough time to run over to the conference center and see if Rod is working in his booth. I left him a message but I’d really like to see him in person so we’ll know that he took the bait, and then wait for him to contact Thuggy and Leon.”
He grinned at my nicknames, but then sobered. “I’d rather not take a chance on being late for our own wedding. Why don’t I call Inspector Lee and ask if she has time to pay Rod a visit?”
I frowned. “But will she agree to bait the hook for us?”
He set his cell phone down. “Good question. She already knows what we plan to do and she doesn’t approve. So whether or not she’ll agree to take an active part in the deception is an uncertainty. But it doesn’t hurt to ask.”
“And maybe she’ll come up with a better idea.”
“Excellent point.” He picked up his cell phone again. “Let’s see how she reacts.”
He placed the call and she answered right away. Derek explained our idea and she started laughing.
“So is that a no?” I asked.
“No, that’s a big, fat no. Let me explain. First of all, I’m a cop. So there’s no way in hell I would ever go along with this. And second of all, you’re my friends. I’d never want to be responsible for sending a possible killer to your wedding. Do you get that?”
“We do,” Derek said amiably. “Thank you for being sensible.”
She laughed. “You guys don’t make it easy.”
Derek and she talked for another minute and then he ended the call. “She’s right, love. Let’s not incite any negativity on our wedding day.”
“You’re right and so is she. Besides, I already left cryptic messages where I could, so that’ll have to do.”
Derek stood and gave me a kiss and we held each other for a moment. “We’re going to have a wonderful day.”
“I know.” I checked my watch for the hundredth time and winced. “I don’t know why I thought we’d have plenty of time to visit Rod. If I don’t go take a shower right now, I won’t be ready in time.” Mainly because I knew I would come up with a dozen other things I needed to do before we finally left for the Covington.
He gave me another quick kiss. “Go ahead and get ready.”
“Okay.” I started to stroll out, then snapped my fingers. “I almost forgot the book. I’ll go get it.”
I jogged down the hall to the closet safe and pulled The Three Musketeers from the inner chest. Dashing to my workshop, I found a padded envelope and slipped the book into it, then returned to Derek’s office. “Here you go. Will you be sure to ask Ian to put it somewhere safe?”
“Yes, love.” He checked his phone for the time.
“I’m going, I’m going.”
“Good,” he said, grinning, then pushed a button on his phone. “I’ll just check in with Corinne one more time.”
I walked out of his office shaking my head. I still couldn’t believe we were trying to solve a murder and get married at practically the same time. Was this really how I wanted to spend my wedding day? Was I staring into the future? Would our lives always be like this?
I turned and gazed at Derek, sitting at his desk talking intently to his assistant, Corinne, while looking so smart and masculine and dangerous and sexy. And my only thought was, I wouldn’t have it any other way.