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“CHIEF. CAN I SPEAK to you for a minute?” Solomon said.
Gordon excused himself and followed Solomon out of the dining room. “What do you have?”
“First, I delivered your message to Angie, and she understands. I can’t say she was happy about it, but she’s dealing.”
Gordon foresaw a lengthy ... discussion ... when they got home. “What else? Has anyone questioned Megan yet?”
“Vicky took a brief statement before she tucked Megan away. All she told me was Megan found Mrs. Volmer in the catering director’s office. Since the wedding was handled by Megan and Angie’s company, nobody was using it. Dispatch had the building manager lock it, then unlock it when the medics got here. Vicky can fill in the details. I wanted to bring you up to speed on the kitchen crew.”
Gordon nodded for him to continue. Until Asel said otherwise, this was a crime scene, and Solomon loved his puzzles.
Solomon consulted his notebook. “The food’s been served and the kitchen crew is in cleanup mode. Packing leftovers, washing dishes. Because of the location of the kitchen—the door is right next to the restroom corridor—guests had been in and out of the kitchen by mistake. Nobody on staff could say who. They got used to pointing out the errors and directing people to the right door and didn’t pay attention to who was coming in.”
“Nobody other than the catering staff had access to the food prep area?” Gordon asked.
“No. The restroom-seeking guests came in, realized they were in the wrong place within a couple steps if they even came into the kitchen at all. The food wasn’t near enough for them to tamper with. According to Angie, the only guest who wasn’t in the kitchen by mistake was Mrs. Volmer, and she’d come in to complain at least three times.”
“Complain about what?”
“Mrs. Volmer claimed the bar was supposed to be full service, not just beer and wine. She was pretty vocal, and everyone agreed she’d had plenty of wine already. The man tending the bar confirmed she’d demanded two more bottles for her table, although it appeared there wasn’t a lot of sharing going on.”
“That’s one,” Gordon said. “What were the other two?”
“Food. They ran out of hors d’oeuvres, not enough variety. She insisted she’d requested a vegetarian meal, and didn’t get it. The other complaint was the music. The DJ wasn’t playing her requests.”
“A first-class whiner,” Gordon said. “That’s what Angie calls them. Says there’s one at every gig.”
Solomon snorted. “Hear you on that. Reminds me of police work.”
“Still, I can’t see that Megan—or anyone else—would want to shut up a whiner by killing her.”
“Definitely not Megan,” Solomon said. “It’s the mother of the bride, not the groom, who’s in charge. The woman had no business complaining about the menu. Megan—and everyone agreed—was very tactful. Had Angie fix a vegetarian plate. Explained that during the meal, it was the bride’s choice of background music, that the first dance was for the bride and groom, but she promised to speak to the DJ once the floor was open to the guests.”
“Angie’s good with people, but she’s in charge of the food. Dealing with clients is Megan’s territory. Angie’s always saying Megan has a closetful of tact hats.”
“At any rate,” Solomon went on, “I don’t see evidence that Megan would have a motive to kill someone.”
“Especially since Mrs. Volmer wasn’t a client, merely a whiner. I’ve finished my information gathering. Unless Vicky or Rafe have come up with a motive for anyone they’ve interviewed to kill Mrs. Volmer, I think we can let everyone get on with their party.”
“Should give the bride and groom something special to remember, if nothing else,” Solomon muttered.
Cop humor.
The two men returned to the dining room. After verifying with McDermott that they had contact information for everyone on the chance they’d need it, Solomon strode to the head table, Gordon right behind him.
Solomon’s expression was one of sympathetic concern. “We’re very sorry for your loss, Mr. Volmer, Mrs. Volmer.”
“Cremati-Volmer.” Destiny wiped her eyes. “Thank you. Are we free to go? Noah and I have honeymoon plans.”
“We have funeral arrangements to deal with, too, Honey Bunny,” Noah said.
“Won’t your Aunt Frieda be taking care of them?” Destiny asked. “She’s your mother’s sister, and they both live in the same town. I’m sure she’d understand we can’t make it to Nebraska right now. We can’t reschedule everything for our honeymoon last-minute. Maybe you can have a celebration of life memorial after we get back.” She turned her gaze to Gordon. “Besides, Noah’s already had to identify the body. Hasn’t he been through enough?”
Gordon watched the wheels turning in Noah’s head. His late mother or his new wife? According to what he’d heard, there hadn’t been a lot of love lost between the two families. How close was Noah to his mother? Destiny was probably right that the aunt would be better equipped to handle arrangements. Noah could sign the preliminary paperwork, turn the rest over to his aunt.
“Since your mother was alone when she died,” Solomon said to the groom, “the coroner will have to confirm it was a natural death before he can release the body.”
“What are you talking about?” Destiny’s eyes flew wide open. “They’re not going to cut her up, are they?” She turned to Noah. “You’re not going to let them do that to your mother, are you, Noah?”
Noah stared at the empty cake plate in front of him. “I don’t know what to say.” He raised his gaze to Solomon. “Do they have to cut her open?”
“That’s up to the coroner,” Solomon said, using his polite yet noncommittal tone. “He’ll talk to your mother’s doctor, see what he says about any underlying conditions that might have contributed to her death.”
“Do you know who her doctor is?” Gordon asked.
“No idea,” Noah said. “I left home after high school, and Mom never mentioned going to doctors to me.”
“She should have emergency contact information either in her phone or wallet,” Solomon said. “Is there someone here who might know?”
“Aunt Frieda.” Noah motioned to another table with one abandoned place setting.
McDermott or Perez would have done those interviews. Gordon motioned to McDermott, who hurried over. “Tell the DJ to start the music,” Gordon said. “The guests can dance while we clear up a few things with the bride and groom.” He shifted his attention to Destiny. “If that’s acceptable.”
“Of course it’s acceptable,” she said. “They might as well have some fun. Most of them didn’t know Noah’s mother. It’s paid for, after all.” She switched her focus to her attendants. “Why don’t you guys get the dancing started.”
It wasn’t a question. Or a suggestion. The two pairs left for the DJ’s station.
Solomon told McDermott to let Megan join her staff, then post Perez at the door to the lodge to keep track of anyone who decided to leave the building. Give him time to regroup.
“Give the aunt the information about claiming the body,” Gordon added.
“What about the manager?” Vicky said. “She’s been in her office.”
“Tell her not to leave the building, that we might have more questions,” Solomon said.
After Vicky had gone, Solomon took one of the chairs vacated by the wedding party. “Mr. and Mrs. Volmer—”
Destiny looked as if she were going to correct him, then thought better of it.
“Where are you going on your honeymoon?” Solomon asked. “When do you leave?”
“Jamaica,” Destiny said. “For two weeks. Our flight leaves tomorrow morning. We have hotel reservations for tonight near the airport. A suite at a Holiday Inn.”
“I can give you all the details,” Noah said, pulling out his phone.
“That’s great.” Solomon wrote down the information Noah dictated. “I’m sure there will be no need to interrupt your honeymoon. It’s all routine.”
“That’s good, isn’t it, Noh-Baby?” Destiny clasped her husband’s hands.
“Would it be all right if we left?” Noah asked. “It’s been a stressful day.”
“We can ask the DJ to play our departure song,” Destiny said. “You know, so everyone can blow the bubbles. The photographer can get the picture of us leaving.”
“We’ll leave you to the rest of your day,” Gordon said. “And congratulations.”
Which seemed a stupid thing to say to a man whose mother had just died, so he added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Both felt equally empty.