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I FELT AS HARRIED AS the mother of triplet toddlers as I encouraged my three companions to get ready for the wedding. I’d finished getting dressed well before the time we’d agreed on. My hair was pinned up in a chignon, my make-up was tastefully applied, and I was dressed in an ice blue shantung silk sheath dress with silver-tone heels. All I needed was one last swipe of lipstick before I was ready to walk out the door. The same could not be said for the other ladies. We’d decided the night before that Fortune and Gertie would come over to dress for the wedding at my great-aunt’s house. It had seemed so very simple then.
“I don’t know what you’re so worked up about, Stephanie.” Fortune turned to survey the reflection of her posterior in the full-length mirror. She smoothed her hands over her fitted red dress and then lifted her gaze to catch my eye. “You can’t even tell I have panties on.”
That was because she didn’t have any on, a point that I wasn’t about to debate. Ladies didn’t discuss “going commando”. “It’s the unsightly bulge in the front of your dress that concerns me, Fortune.”
She turned around and there, in all its glory, was the outline of a tiny Beretta pistol tucked into her waistband. She lifted her hands in an expression of feigned innocence. “What’s wrong with accessorizing?”
My eyebrows shot up right along with my blood pressure. She was concerned about accessorizing? “You’d be better off losing the gun and finding some earrings that aren’t in the shape of bananas.”
Fortune reached up to touch an ear lobe, her expression defensive. “Gertie gave these to me. When else am I going to wear them?”
Before I could respond, the shrill tone of the landline rang.
“Don’t get it,” Gertie screamed from down the hallway. “It’s bull.”
I frowned. “What’s bull?”
“This whole getting gussied up nonsense is bull crap if you ask me.” Aunt Ida Belle sat perched on the edge of her bed. She waved a pair of nylon stockings over her head. “There’s not a man alive stupid enough to wear these things, so why in the hell should I have to?” Without waiting for an answer, she stuck her finger through one leg like a defiant eight-year-old. “Aw, shucks, can’t wear them now.”
“Not so fast, Aunt Ida Belle.” I rustled around in one of the bags from my shopping trip to New Orleans. Triumphantly, I pulled out a spare pair that I’d purchased for her. “Voila! No need to worry that you’ll be forced to endure an evening with bare legs.” I tossed the package to her. “Be careful, but in case you do accidentally tear them, fear not. I have several more pair in your size.”
The phone rang again. Seconds later, a breathless Gertie stuck her head in the room. “Don’t answer it,” she panted. “It’s just bull.” She tore off again before anyone could question her.
“Do we need to ask what that’s all about?” I asked.
“No!” Aunt Ida Belle and Fortune answered in emphatic unison.
I shrugged, deciding it was wise to pick my battles. The night was young. I glanced at my watch. “Kase is going to be here soon. Let’s not keep him waiting. Fortune, please put that gun somewhere where no one will see it. Try a handbag. Aunt Ida Belle, stockings on. Take one for the team.” I double-checked that I had a tissue, my cell phone, and a tube of lipstick in my clutch. “I’m off to make sure that Gertie’s dressed appropriately.” Something I doubted she could manage on her own. The dressing part, yes, but the appropriate part, no. “Let’s meet downstairs in ten minutes.”
A few minutes later, I sagged against the guest bedroom doorframe and watched as Gertie fiddled with her hat. She caught sight of me and grinned. I experienced a stab of affection for this woman I’d known such a short time. Gertie was a kind soul with an energy that I admired, and a heart of pure gold. But still, the hat had to go. “Hi, Gertie.” I advanced into the room and sat on the bed. “You look lovely. That camouflage scarf goes beautifully with your dress.” I wasn’t a fan of camo prints, but nonetheless I thought the scarf was a much-needed pop of color against her all beige outfit. “But the pith helmet is a no go.”
She cocked her head. “Really? I shouldn’t wear it?”
I shook my head regretfully. “Not unless we’re headed out on safari.” And probably not even then.
She grinned. “That’s why I chose it. You saw what a jungle that bridal shower turned into.”
I’d walked right into that one. “Yes, well, that’s all behind us now. Cassandra’s wedding is going to be an elegant affair.”
Reluctantly, Gertie tossed the hat onto the bed.
The phone rang again. “Bull.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” I knew that question might well lead to a long, convoluted answer, but I was curious. Was it some sort of code for something in Sinful? “What’s bull?”
Gertie winked. “My date.”
“Your date is bull?”
She nodded, rather more enthusiastically than seemed warranted considering that she thought so little of the man.
“Total bull, I know,” she finished for me. She grabbed her two-ton purse and slung it up on her shoulder. Her expression was eager and her eyes shone with excitement. “I’m ready to rhumba. So are you from the look of those shoes.”
I glanced down at my feet. My heels were a couple of inches higher than I normally wore. I was suddenly unsure if they were appropriate for a daytime wedding. “I think I’ll run upstairs and change my shoes.”
Gertie grabbed my arm. “Don’t you dare.”
Her vehement reaction startled me. “Why ever not?”
I could have sworn a faint blush stained her cheeks, but that made no sense.
“Trust me, Kase is going to love those shoes. Don’t ruin his fun.” She tugged me toward the bedroom door. “Ready?”
Ready as I’d ever be.
***
THE ATMOSPHERE AT THE Masters home was surprisingly placid considering the number of guests milling about the grounds. You’d never have known that the bride’s father had been shot at less than twenty-four hours ago. We all made our way through the house and out onto the lawn where the ceremony was going to be held.
We’d agreed on the drive over to stay in pairs throughout the evening. Fortune and Carter were paired up, Walter and Ida Belle, Kase and I, and Gertie and Bull. Yes, Bull, Gertie’s date. Bull Dozer, all five-foot-two inches and ninety-eight pounds of him, showed up at my great-aunt’s house just as we were about to leave. Between his shock of red hair and baby blue tuxedo, I hardly knew what to make of him. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he brought Gertie a glass of champagne. “He seems sweet enough.”
“Don’t be fooled,” my great-aunt grumbled. “He’s a man just like any other. No sense of loyalty.”
Kase and I exchanged amused glances. Aunt Ida Belle was in a foul mood, which I attributed to the fact that Lenora Masters had whisked Walter away the moment we’d arrived. Deep down she cared about Walter, I knew she did. I also knew she’d be darned before she’d admit it.
“Do you want me to drag him back here?” Kase asked.
I smiled up at him. I was quickly growing to appreciate his subtle sense of humor. Aunt Ida Belle, however, showed no such inclination. Her face took on the look of a summer thunderstorm.
“Like hell you will.” She downed an entire glass of champagne in one gulp before thrusting her crystal glass at a passing waiter. “If Walter needs straightening out, then I’m the woman for the job.” She squared her shoulders, patted her hair into place, and strode off in the direction we’d last seen Walter and Lenora.
Now that we were alone, I turned my attention to Kase. I’d never seen him dressed in formalwear before. He wore a gray suit, a white button-down Oxford shirt, and a light purple tie. The cut of his suit suggested that he’d had it tailor made, and he wore it with ease equal to his regular t-shirt and jeans. The biggest surprise when he’d picked me up, though, hadn’t been what he was wearing, but rather what he was missing. He’d cut his hair short. It was a good look on him, and I told him so in a jumbled rush of embarrassed words.
I took a sip of champagne and gazed around, doing my level best to look anywhere but at Kase. No easy task, I must admit, especially when I could feel his eyes on me. I blushed. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for someone who’s up to their neck in narcotics?” I asked, unable to resist peeking up at him.
“Yes, I am, but you are so beautiful that I’m struggling to look anywhere but at you.” He took a step closer and brushed a tendril of my hair back from my cheek. “When I picked you up at your aunt’s house and I saw you in that dress, you took my breath away. I’m still recovering.”
His compliment pleased me, but it also left me feeling self-conscious. Time for a change of subject. “Maybe we should split up and circulate.”
Kase shook his head. “It’s better if we stay together. After all, the Masters know me as your bodyguard. Stands to reason I’d be right beside you. Besides, there’s precious little we can do other than watch and listen. Carter’s called in backup from the DEA to watch a few key landing points where possible shipments could come in.” He glanced down at his watch. “The ceremony should start soon anyway.”
As if on cue from a stage manager, the mother-of-the-bride appeared at our side. She looked even more flustered than usual. “Miss St. James, I’m so sorry to bother you, but I need your help,” she said in a breathless rush of words.
“Is something amiss?”
She nodded. “It’s Cassandra. She just texted me.” She looked around nervously. “She’s distraught. I need your help to calm her down.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to help if I’m able. Is she getting cold feet?”
Kitty stared at me for a long moment as if she were trying to decipher my question. “Oh, no, goodness no,” she finally said. “Nothing like that. It’s, well, it’s her father.”
Kase and I exchanged baffled looks. As per most situations in Sinful, this conversation wasn’t making much sense.
“Is he drunk?” Kase asked.
Kitty clasped her hands together. “Worse.”
What could be worse than a drunk father-of-the-bride? That was about as bad as it got in my book. “Is he ill?” I asked.
“I wish. No, he’s missing.”
“Late, you mean?” Kase asked.
“No, missing. As in a no-show.” It was as if a dark shadow passed over her face. “Can you please come upstairs with me, Miss St. James?”
Nodding, I moved to follow her, but Kase’s grip on my elbow prevented me from taking more than a step.
“If Miss St. James is going to accompany you, so am I,” Kase said, his voice resolute. “I trust that won’t be a problem.”
Kitty didn’t meet his eye. “That’s fine, but let’s go. The harpist will start playing soon and my little girl is freaking out.”
Kase did his best to muscle us through the throng of guests, but every few steps Kitty was stopped by someone who wanted to compliment her dress, exchange air kisses, or ask where the soon-to-be newlyweds were going for their honeymoon. After a few moments, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “Just go ahead without me. Cassandra’s in the room at the top of the stairs, the first door on the right. I’ll be along as soon as I can.”
I could tell Kase wasn’t thrilled with leaving Kitty behind, but he parted the seas for me and we were inside the house within minutes. I looked over my shoulder but couldn’t see her head in the crowd. She wasn’t where we’d left her.
“Do you think we should wait for Kitty?” I asked Kase.
He looked around. His height afforded him a far better view than I had. Once he’d completed his surveillance, he shook his head. “I don’t see her. Let’s go.”
We made it as far as the foyer, but as I stepped foot on the staircase, we heard a blood-curdling scream from the landing above.