For Better or Hearse (18 page)

“Darcy and Jean?” I almost stumbled up a step. “Are you sure?”

Richard caught me by the elbow. “What about them?”

“That's what the girls over here said,” Kate assured me over the phone. “It seems like Darcy went to a lot of trouble to make sure no one at the Fairmont found out.”

“I'm sure,” I said. “The management isn't fond of employees dating. That's a recipe for early unemployment.”

“Who's dating?” Richard hissed, jogging up the steps to keep up with me.

“Hold on,” I whispered and pointed to the phone. “It's Kate.”

“Exactly,” Kate said. “I don't blame her for keeping it quiet, especially knowing what Mr. Elliot can be like. Too bad for Darcy her boyfriend turned out to be a dud.”

I laughed. “I'd say that being a serial killer makes
you a bit more than a dud in the boyfriend rating system.”

“Kate's dating a serial killer?” Richard clasped his hand over his mouth.

“Hey, with some of the guys I've gone out with lately, that'd be an improvement,” Kate said.

I shook my head at Richard. “No, Darcy.”

“Don't mention anything to Darcy,” Kate reminded me. “It might be a touchy subject.”

“Got it. I'll see you in a few.” I dropped the phone back in my jacket as we reached the top of the stairs.

“Kate's dating Darcy or Darcy's dating a serial killer?” Richard's voice went up a few octaves.

I grabbed Richard by the shoulders. “Keep it down. We don't want the whole lobby to know.” I glanced at the bustling hotel beneath us. “Darcy's dating Jean, and Jean just got hauled away for the three murders.”

“Oh.” Richard pulled himself away from me. “Why didn't you say that in the first place?”

“Sorry.” I offered a slightly sarcastic apology. “But don't say anything about Jean if we see Darcy. I don't want to cause a scene.”

Richard made signs of locking his mouth and throwing away the key. “You know me. Discretion is my middle name.”

“How could I forget?” I pushed open the glass door to the catering and sales offices. The secretary who sat at the front desk was gone, so I peeked around the doorway to the back offices.

Richard crept close behind me. “Do you know where Georgia's office is or are we going to wander aimlessly?”

“It's right down here on the left. She has a window over the alley.”

“Pretty.”

We walked through the maze of gray fabric cubicles that took up the majority of the floor space. It was eerily quiet since most of the sales staff had left for the weekend and only catering staff with events remained. I heard a soft humming as we reached Georgia's office door.

“Annabelle.” Darcy poked her head over the cubicle divider across from Georgia's office. “What are you doing here?”

Richard shrieked and almost leapt into my arms, then glared at Darcy. “Don't jump out at people like that. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“We stopped by to welcome Georgia back to work,” I explained, prying Richard off me.

Darcy came around the divider. “I'm not sure if she wants to be disturbed….”

“They aren't disturbing me.” Georgia threw open the door to her office. Her emerald green wrap top draped open, showing the edge of her black lace bra; her hot pink lipstick was smeared; and her hair looked like it had been through a wind tunnel. Reg sat in the chair behind her, wearing equal amounts of pink lipstick and a stunned expression.

“Good Lord.” Richard averted his eyes.

“Isn't it wonderful, Annabelle?” Georgia pulled me in to her office, tugging her blouse closed an inch. “It took being arrested for me to realize that what I've really been looking for has been right under my nose all this time.”

“That's wonderful.” I took a step back into the hall. “But we don't want to interrupt anything.”

“Nonsense.” Georgia threw an arm around my shoulders, causing her shirt to fall open even more. “I
have you to thank for everything. Reg told me how you questioned everyone and almost got in trouble with our GM.”

“I'm glad everything turned out okay.” I looked at Reg, and then nudged her. “Or should I say better than okay?”

“Can you believe he's had feelings for me for all these years and I never knew it?” Georgia whispered to me, and then blew a kiss to Reg.

“We're all happy you're out,” I said. “Richard helped us with the investigation, too, you know.”

Richard tried to look at Georgia without dropping his eyes to her cleavage. “Hotel catering would have been dreadfully dull without you, darling.”

“I'm lucky to have such great friends.” Georgia's eyes filled with tears. “And a great assistant, too. Darcy kept the place running while I was away. My office was spotless, and she even caught up with my proposals.”

Darcy blushed and shook her head. “I'm relieved you're back. I don't think I could have done your job for one more day, and especially not today's wedding.”

Reg stood up and looked at his watch. “That reminds me, I have to start the setup in the Colonnade.”

Georgia stuck her lower lip out in a pout, and then turned to us. “Let me walk him to the door, then I'll come back and we can catch up. Make yourself comfortable in my office.”

Richard swished past Reg and lowered himself into a chair. “Take your time, honey.”

“I'm going to get back to work,” Darcy said, stepping back toward her cubicle. “We have a few last minute changes to tonight's wedding timing.”

I joined Richard in Georgia's office and walked around her desk to look out the window. It was open all
the way and a breeze fluttered in, although the smell from the alley Dumpster below wasn't exactly refreshing. I pressed my nose against the screen so I could look straight down. Employee parking, loading dock, Dumpsters. Not the greatest view, but it beat a cubicle.

“Not a bad office. I like the color.” Richard waved a hand at the soft green paint that covered the walls. He craned his neck to look at the shelves behind him that held wedding books, leftover unity candles, cake knives, and stacks of yarmulkes. “She's stocked up, huh?”

I sat down in Georgia's swivel chair. “Next time I'll know where to come when a client forgets the unity candle.”

“Speaking of ceremonies, don't you have one to get to?”

“I still have time. They should still be doing pictures right now.” I spun around in the chair. “Anyway, Kate can handle it for a few more minutes.”

Richard held up a hand for me to be quiet. “Is someone humming the theme song from ‘Bewitched'?”

I listened for a moment and realized that the sound came from Darcy's cubicle. I stood up and looked at the perfectly painted walls of Georgia's office. I felt like smacking myself in the head, but instead I reached for a pink paperweight on the desk and hurled it against the wall. It hit the surface with a loud thud, and pieces of plaster and pale green paint fell to the floor with it.

Richard leapt out of his chair. “Look what you've done to Georgia's wall. What on earth has gotten into you?”

“Maybe Darcy can explain,” I said, motioning to the catering assistant who stood in the doorway, staring at the hole in the wall.

I walked around the desk and advanced on Darcy. “Maybe you forgot the little story you told me about Georgia's fight with Henri the day he was murdered?”

Darcy remained silent, chewing on her lower lip.

“You claimed that Georgia got so enraged at Henri that she threw a paperweight at him and missed, hitting the wall in her office. One problem, though. No holes in the wall.” I took a breath and continued. “Very clever way to cast doubt on Georgia's innocence.”

“What's going on?” Richard snapped. “I thought we were finished with all this murder nonsense. Might I remind you, Annabelle, that you just had Jean hauled off to the police station?”

Darcy's eyes flitted to mine and burned with anger before going blank again.

“I thought we'd wrapped everything up, too,” I said. “But I thought about something Jean said to me. ‘Don't believe everything you see.'”

“How delightful,” Richard drawled. “A pastry chef with a penchant for murder and riddles.”

“I think he was talking about you.” I took a step toward Darcy. “Isn't that right?”

“Her?” Richard shook his head. “But you have evidence that the three chefs killed Henri, don't you?”

“Technically, yes,” I admitted. “But I have a feeling that there's more to Darcy and to these murders than meets the eye.”

“So I exaggerated the story about Georgia and Henri's fight.” Darcy shrugged. “So what?”

“Not only did you not want Georgia to get out of jail, you're the one who fed information and fake evidence to the cops to make her look more suspicious.” I leveled a finger at her. “Who better to plant her trademark scarf for the cops to find after your boyfriend put blood on it?”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “I knew Jean couldn't keep our relationship to himself. Men are so indiscreet.”

“Tell me about it, sister.” Richard sunk back down in his seat.

“Just because I'm dating Jean doesn't mean I had anything to do with the murders,” Darcy said.

“I think men have been your downfall, Darcy.” I perched on the corner of the desk. “You've been covering up for your boyfriend and your father all this time.”

I watched as Darcy's hands curled into fists, but her expression remained unchanged.

“Her father?” Richard asked.

“That's right,” I said. “Didn't you know that Darcy is the daughter that Marcello lost years ago?”

Richard spun around in his chair. “What? Have you
lost your mind, Annabelle, or are you determined to ruin me?”

“When I heard Darcy humming the theme song from ‘Bewitched,' everything fell into place. How many people do you know who hum old TV theme songs?” I asked.

Richard eyed Darcy. “Well, it would explain why a girl with an Irish name looks so Italian and has questionable choice in music.”

“My mother is Irish,” Darcy said quietly, her voice steady. “I took her last name.”

“I told you.” Richard gave me a smug grin. “I knew something wasn't right from the beginning. Black Irish, my foot.”

I locked eyes with Darcy and put on my best poker face. “Jean confessed to everything. How he, Emilio, and Gunter killed Henri and you set up Georgia to take the fall for them.”

“Jean told you?” Darcy narrowed her eyes at me.

I nodded. “He said he wasn't going down alone.”

“I knew I shouldn't have trusted him,” Darcy muttered. “Men are weak.”

“You father wasn't weak, though,” I said. “He was behind this whole murder, wasn't he?”

Darcy burst into derisive laughter. “My father wishes he masterminded Henri's murder. No, he watched from the sidelines, as usual.”

“Thank heavens.” Richard brushed a hand across his forehead. “It's so hard to replace good chefs nowadays.”

“But that doesn't make sense,” I said. “Marcello had more motive than anyone. Henri destroyed his life.”

“No, Henri destroyed my life.” Darcy wrung her
hands together. “Do you know what it's like to be eight years old and have your family fall apart? After he was fired, my father became obsessed with getting revenge on Henri. It was all he thought about, talked about. He couldn't find work and he became more and more bitter. Finally, my mother thought we'd be better off without him. I didn't see him for twenty years.”

“So you're telling me that after all that time, Marcello didn't have anything to do with killing Henri?” I asked.

Darcy jabbed at her chest. “He may have forgotten about revenge, but I didn't.”

Darcy no longer looked like the uptight, frazzled assistant I'd known. She looked calm, controlled, and a little crazy.

I edged around behind the desk. Why hadn't I seen it before? “So you were behind all of this. You came to the Fairmont with the express purpose of killing Henri, and you waited three years to get the revenge your father never could.”

“Never send a man to do a woman's job,” Darcy said.

Richard started to open his mouth in protest, but took one look at Darcy and abandoned the idea. He slid out of his chair and took a step toward the door. Darcy blocked him.

“You don't understand,” she said patiently. “I didn't kill Henri. I was nowhere near the murder scene.”

“You convinced Jean, Gunter, and Emilio to kill him for you, though,” I argued. “Jean is telling that to the police right this second.”

She shut the office door and leaned against it. “Actually, I only had to convince Jean. He got the others
on board. They never knew I had anything to do with it.”

“Well, if you didn't actually kill anyone, I'd say there's no harm done.” Richard gave a nervous laugh. “Don't you agree, Annabelle?”

I ignored him. “You may not have killed Henri, but you conspired to murder him. Was it your idea to get rid of Gunter and Emilio, too?”

“So unfortunate.” Darcy frowned and pointed a finger at me. “But they couldn't be trusted not to talk, what with you snooping around and asking so many questions.”

“Nice going,” Richard mumbled under his breath, as he joined me behind the desk.

“I gave you lots of warnings, Annabelle,” Darcy reminded me. “You don't take hints very well, do you?”

“Don't think I haven't said exactly the same thing,” Richard said.

I glared at him. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

He avoided my eyes. “What? She makes a good point.”

I turned my attention back to Darcy. “Does your father appreciate that you did his dirty work for him and you're going to go to jail for conspiracy to murder?”

“He has to be proud of me after what I did for him.” Darcy's eyes darted wildly around the room. “He has to love me after the sacrifices I made for him. Sacrifices he was never willing to make for me.”

Richard gave a low whistle. “Have you ever considered family therapy?”

Darcy's eyes blazed, and she slid a cake knife off the shelf next to her. “You have no idea what you're talking about, and I have no intention of going to jail.”

“She's got a knife.” Richard's voice came out as little more than a squeak.

Darcy advanced toward us and I backed up, treading firmly on Richard's toes.

“You can't prove that I had anything to do with the murders.” Darcy leaned over the desk and swiped the knife at us. “I'm innocent.”

Richard shrieked as the blade missed his face by only inches. “May I point out that this is not the behavior of an innocent person?”

Richard and I leaned back to avoid getting cut by the flailing blade and stumbled against the window screen. It bowed with our weight, and we both lurched back into the room. Darcy started around the side of the desk, and I gave Richard a push.

“Move it!” I screamed.

Darcy lunged for us as we ran for the door, and the knife nicked Richard in the arm. He took one look at the drops of blood spreading on the sleeve of his white shirt and collapsed in a dead faint. I stumbled over him, landing on my hands and knees.

“You're not going to get away with this,” I gasped as Darcy rounded the desk.

“I keep telling you.” She raised the knife over her head. “I'm innocent.”

“You're crazy.” I scurried around the desk as she dove for me, and got behind the swivel chair. Darcy came around the corner, cursing and panting, her hair hanging in her face. Now she did look crazy. She saw me behind the chair and rushed forward, arms outstretched.

I kicked the chair away from me and it spun toward her, knocking her off balance and sending her sprawling against the window screen. The knife blade pierced
the screen, and she flailed for a second before her weight ripped the screen open and she plummeted to the ground below. I cringed when her screams came to an abrupt stop.

I sat frozen in shock for a few minutes, trying to digest what had happened. I could hear screams and loud voices below me, but I couldn't force myself to move. Darcy had wasted her entire life so she could get revenge for her father and win his love? Dr. Phil would have a field day with this.

I finally tried to stand but my legs felt too weak, so I crawled shakily away from the window until I reached Richard. I rolled him over and slapped his cheeks.

His eyes fluttered open and he sat up. “What happened?”

“The short version?” I slumped against the desk. “Darcy fell out the window. She's gone.”

The door swung open and Georgia gaped at us. “What on earth is going on here?” She looked around the room. “You trashed my office.”

Reese appeared behind her and called over his shoulder, “The body fell from in here, guys.”

“Body?” Georgia jumped when she saw Reese. “What's going on?”

“It's a long story.” I took Reese's hand and let him pull me up. “Give me a second and I'll explain everything.”

“What happened to your arm?” Georgia asked Richard, pointing to the blood on his shirt.

Reese turned to one of the officers who'd joined him. “Get another ambulance here. Looks like we've got a stab wound.”

“Stab wound?” Richard looked down at his arm, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged to the floor again.

Georgia stuck her head out into the hall. “Where's Darcy? She was here a minute ago.”

I looked from Reese to the ripped window screen and back again. “I'm afraid she stepped out.”