The Borrowed and Blue Murders (The Zoe Hayes Mysteries) (32 page)

“Get a move on, Zoe,” Susan called through the bathroom door. “You’re going to be late. My appointments are the same times as yours, and you’ll make me late, too.”

There was no room in Susan’s voice for debate. I had to get out of the shower. Somehow I dried off and pulled on a sweat suit. Susan stood at the bathroom door, waiting while I peeked into Molly’s room; she was still asleep. Susan went with me to peek in on Luke. In his crib, he held his toes, gazing happily at his musical mobile. I started for my bedroom to find Nick; we still hadn’t had a chance to talk about what had happened the night before. I wanted to connect with him. I was shaken. In fact, I was shaking.

“What are you doing?” Susan stopped me at the bedroom door.

“Why do you need to know?” She was in my way.

“Are you going to see Nick? Because you can’t, not today.” She blocked my way.

What? “Susan, move.”

She wouldn’t. “Trust me. It’s your wedding day. A bride and groom cannot see each other on their wedding day.”

“Who says?”

“It’s common knowledge. It’s a rule just like the borrowed and blue rule. Don’t go in there. You can’t see him.”

“Susan—it’s too late. We slept in the same bed.”

“That doesn’t count as today. That counts as yesterday.”

I started for the door. “I have to talk to him.”

“Whatever you have to say can wait.”

“It’s about last night—”

“Listen to me, Zoe.” Susan’s voice was firm, her hands on my arms. “I understand that you’re freaked out about Anna. So am I. And I know about last night. I know you shot that patient of yours—”

“I killed her.”

Susan nodded. “Fine, so you killed her. But there will be plenty of time to deal with that. Tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. But not today. Today, you are getting married. And even though it sounds superficial and selfish, today you are not going to even try to deal with anything else. This is your day and Nick’s. It’s going to be a day you’ll remember forever. And you don’t want to spoil it by breaking the rules.”

Was she crazy? “Susan. I killed a woman last night. I also hurt Ivy pretty bad. I need to find out if I have to see the police today. I need to talk to Nick—”

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell you what he says. But you are not going to lay eyes on that man. Not until the wedding. It’s bad luck.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s a superstition—”

“And you’re going to risk it? The way your life’s been going?”

There was no point arguing; Susan was adamant. And the truth was, she was right. The way my life had been going, I didn’t want to risk a thing.

T
HE PUPPY SCHOOL TRAINER
came for Oliver at four to board him for the weekend. He went with her joyfully, as if she were his true owner. While I waited for her, I called the hospital again to check on Bryce, and I almost keeled over when he answered the phone himself. At the sound of his voice, I was instantly in tears, in danger of ruining my makeup. He couldn’t talk much, but he let me know he’d awakened the day before and he had no memory of the accident. Unaware of what had happened, he still wanted to warn me about Bonnie Osterman. I explained that there was no danger, that she’d been found, but for now I spared him the details that she had been the driver who’d run him down and that I had shot her. Promising to visit him in a day or two, I got off the phone relieved; Bryce was going to recover. Maybe it was a sign that life would be normal again.

The limo came to pick up the bridal party at four thirty. It was silver and took up half the block. The driver rang the doorbell and waited in the foyer, and for some reason, I didn’t want him in my house. Get over it, I told myself. He was not going to kidnap the children; he was merely there to drive us to the hotel. Still, his presence made me uneasy. Why? Maybe it was that his uniform was too big for him. Or that his hair, beneath his driver’s hat, was kind of long and scruffy. But bad fashion wasn’t illegal. The fact was I’d killed a former patient the night before and I hadn’t stopped spinning since Agent Harris had died. The problem wasn’t the driver; it was me.

Susan gathered up all the garment bags containing the dresses. And Molly skipped down the steps, her blond hair bouncing in perfectly formed ringlets. The limo driver stared into the house, as if trying to see past the yellow tape. It’s normal, I told myself. He’s curious, doesn’t usually pick people up at crime scenes. I showed him what I needed him to help us with: my overnight bag, the bag of our shoes, the diaper bag, Molly’s book bag stuffed with whatever miscellany she’d packed in it. Finally, I went to get Luke. When I came downstairs, I stopped halfway; the limo driver wasn’t at the door. He had stepped farther into the house, had moved into the hall and stood at the yellow tape, trying to see what lay beyond. He turned when he felt me watching him, and I noticed, beneath his professional uniform, he was wearing blue and white sneakers. Odd, I thought. Maybe his feet hurt in other shoes. Maybe he had bunions.

He smiled, revealing shiny white teeth. “Need help, ma’am?”

I shook my head no. No, I didn’t need help. I rushed down the last few steps and out of the house, leaving behind the yellow tape and the scene of two murders in one week. The limo driver helped Luke and me into the car where Molly and Susan were waiting.

“Look, Mom—there’s a TV And snacks. And a refrigerator.” Molly already had helped herself to a bottle of cranberry juice and a bag of popcorn.

As Luke and I got comfortable, she fiddled with the remote, trying to pick a program.

“Ready, Zoe?” Suddenly, there was a pop; I jumped, ready to bolt before realizing that Susan had opened a bottle of champagne. Foam spilled over the top onto the leather seat as she reached for two glasses. “Oops. A little bubbly for the bride?” She poured.

I rearranged Luke on my lap. “Susan, I’m nursing.” What was going on? She knew I couldn’t drink alcohol.

“Right.” She slurped up a glass. “But Luke deserves to celebrate, too. One glass won’t hurt.”

“Mom, look. Willie Wonka’s on.”

“Great, Molls.”

Actually, I ached for a drink. For several. “I’ll pass.” I glanced through the partition and saw the driver’s eyes reflected in his rearview mirror, watching us.

“Everything okay, ladies?” His voice came over a microphone.

“Fine. We’re fine, thank you,” Susan sang, and slugged her drink.

“Where is the rest of your wedding party? Are they taking a separate car?”

Now he was chatting with us.

“They’re at the hotel already. We have a couple of suites.”

“Got a big crowd coming?”

Again, Susan answered. They conversed, but for the rest of the ride to the hotel I didn’t say a word. I merely tried to stay calm. Molly munched, raptly watching the television. Luke slept. And Susan chattered and chattered with the driver like a blissful canary, putting away almost half a bottle of champagne.

T
ONY’S COMPLEXION WAS A
pale waxy green when he met us at the main entrance to the Four Seasons. While the limo driver unloaded our bags, I took Tony aside.

“Well.” He glanced around. “This is it.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant the wedding or the day the thugs were going to come for the jump drives.

“Any sign of anybody yet?”

Instinctively, he touched his pockets, feeling for the jump drives with trembling fingers. “Nothing. I’ve been hanging around the lobby and the bar all day. Nobody even asked me what time it was. I’m thinking they may suspect something’s up. They might not come.”

I looked around the lobby, scanning strangers, looking for people who might want jump drives. An elegant middle-aged couple occupied a sofa, sharing a magazine and pair of reading glasses. A man in expensive pinstripes paced, checking his watch, looking out at the carport. Nobody looked suspicious. Our limo driver had finished unloading and hung around near the door. Oh dear—was I supposed to tip him? No, of course not. He wasn’t a cabdriver. He’d get paid in full for the night at the end of the evening. Lord, I missed Anna. I had no idea what arrangements had been made or which transactions were still pending.

“How long are you supposed to wait?” Tony didn’t look like he could last much longer. “What’s the plan exactly?”

“The plan?” he scoffed. “The plan is for me to get beaten to a pulp again, it seems to me. Anyhow, I need a break. I’ll go up with you guys and hang with Nick for a while.” Tony looked around the lobby. “Maybe nobody’s coming.”

I shifted Luke to the other shoulder; he cuddled close and began sucking my cheek. He had a passion for sucking any part of me—arm, finger, face, neck. But if I didn’t stop him, at the ceremony I’d have a hickey on my face. Gently, I detached his lips and repositioned him again as we started for the elevator. Suddenly, someone put a hand on my shoulder. I spun around.

“Anything else?” I hadn’t seen the limo driver approach.

“Anything else?” I didn’t understand.

“Before midnight, I mean?”

Midnight? What would I need at midnight? Wait. I remembered: Anna had arranged for the limo to take my father home and to deliver Anna and the children back to our house. Except, now the kids would be staying here with us and Anna wouldn’t need a ride. But the driver could still take my father back.

“Midnight’s fine. Actually, a little earlier.” My dad was, after all, in his eighties; I didn’t know how late he’d want to party.

“Okay, then. See you at eleven thirty?” The driver tipped his cap, watching us walk toward the elevator.

Molly and Susan waited there, having explored the lobby, Susan gaily commenting on the drama of floral arrangements and fountains. The bellman was there, too, ready to guide us and our belongings to the bridal suite, which, he advised us, was conveniently located adjacent to the groom’s suite. When the elevator doors opened, as if on cue, Luke opened his mouth, depositing a generous blob of curdled milk onto my sweatshirt. And, as they closed, I stared into the lobby, still searching for a suspicious face.

T
HE SUITE WAS ELEGANT
, lushly carpeted and lavishly upholstered. Karen was already there. She’d been at the hotel all day, filling in for Anna, doing whatever a wedding planner had to do on the day of the ceremony. She’d opened the mini-bar, had an array of bottles and snacks set up on the small dining table. I couldn’t think of swallowing. When I glanced at a wad of melting Brie, my stomach cringed spasmodically

“Wait till you see your bouquet, Zoe,” Karen greeted us, flushed and jittery. You’d think the wedding was hers. “It’s exquisite.”

“What about my flowers?” Molly pulled urgently at my arm. “I need to pull the petals off and put them in a basket—”

“It’s all done.” Karen chuckled, took Molly’s hand. “Flower girls don’t have to pluck the petals; they have it done for them. But your basket’s beautiful, all decorated in ribbons. Come see.”

Karen took Molly off to inspect her basket while Susan poured drinks. I set Luke down in his portable rocking chair, calculating how to time his feedings so he wouldn’t interrupt the ceremony, deciding whether to get him or Molly dressed first, wondering if he could manage not to throw up on his too-adorable-for-words tiny dress shirt.

“Scotch?” Susan held out a glass. “Take it, just this once. It’ll take away the jitters.”

“I don’t have jitters—”

“Zoe. You’re shaking. Look at your hands.”

I held them out. They shook. I tightened them into fists and put one behind me.

“Zoe. Believe me. One shot on one day is not going to harm your baby, but it will do you tons of good.” She brought it to me, waited for me to take it, refusing to let me decline. “Take it.”

I took it from her, telling myself that I could just pretend to sip it. If I held it to my mouth, Susan would leave me alone.

“Here’s to my best friend.” She held her glass up, chin wobbling. “Husbands can come and go, but best friends are forever.” She wiped away a tear and gulped her drink down, and as I held the Scotch to my lips, it occurred to me that she and Tim might be having problems.

“What’s that mean, Susan? Husbands come and go—”

“Nothing. Just, you know. First Michael. Now Nick.”

What was she insinuating? That I couldn’t stay married? “Nick is permanent.”

“Of course he is.” Susan sounded tipsy. As far as I could see, she’d been drinking steadily for two days. But I couldn’t think about Susan’s drinking now. I had to stay on track, think about getting ready. I set my glass down, and while Susan and Karen took Molly into the bedroom to get ready I fed Luke so I wouldn’t have to worry about feeding him for a while. Then I took my dress out of the garment bag. Marveling again at its simple lines, delicate lace, shimmering silk, glowing pearls, intricate embroidery, I tried not to remember Ivy preening in it and told myself that the dress did not smell of her perfume. Still, I aired the dress out, leaving it hanging on the closet door.

“Mom, look at me!” Molly twirled out of the bedroom, dazzling and aglow. “Can I go show Nick?”

I supposed she could; there was no rule that I knew of forbidding the flower girl and groom from seeing each other on the wedding day.

“Not by yourself.”

“I’ll take her.” Karen took Molly’s hand. “Then we’ll go show Davinder. She’s all alone downstairs coping with the florist and the photographer and the musicians and the chef. She probably could use some company.”

My friends were saints. “Karen, how can I thank you guys? You and Davinder and Susan have really rescued us—”

“Zoe, please. Your wedding planner died the day before your wedding. What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help? We all love you.” Blowing a kiss, she led Molly out the door. “Back in a few.”

When they left, the room was suddenly quiet. Luke slept, and I thought that I’d finally have a little time to myself.

But just then, Susan called from the bedroom, “Zoe, I have the borrowed and blue stuff. Come here and decide what you want—”