Just Murdered (5 page)

“Luke is giving up his big break for me, aren’t you? He has a chance to be in a Michael Mann movie—you know, the
Miami Vice
producer. It’s a big part for an unknown.

“Mother hates the part. Hates it. That’s why she said no. She doesn’t want Luke to be this drooling, brain-damaged coke addict. She says her friends and her committees may not understand that he’s acting.

“Luke can do Shakespeare, though. Everyone understands Shakespeare, even at Chauncey’s little theater. Luke can do that forever. Oh, and he has that dog food commercial. It’s still running on cable. Do your dog bark, sweetheart. You’re so clever.”

Helen was dazed by this display. Desiree had gutted her husband-to-be with knife-edged praise. How could he stand her?

But Luke took Desiree in his arms and gave her a smoldering kiss. “Darling, don’t do this to yourself,” he said. “Take off that dress. Let’s go out for an early dinner before the show.”

Luke’s performance of a man in love was flawless, but that’s what it seemed, a performance. It convinced Desiree, though. She wrapped her arms around Luke’s neck and kissed him as if he were going off to war.

“You’re right, Luke,” she said, becoming a heroine in her own romance. “Let’s leave here. I’ll get ready.”

“I’ll help you.” Millicent wanted this emotion-charged scene out of her salon. She herded the bride and her mother back to the fitting room. “Helen, stay with Luke, will you?”

“You’re in the current production?” Helen said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

“I have the lead in
Richard the Third.
But I’m leaving the production after next Thursday. I’ve got a part in a movie.”

“I thought your mother-in-law wouldn’t allow it,” Helen said.

“I’ll bring her around,” he said. Luke’s long lashes had to be natural. They didn’t have eyelash transplants, did they? Helen thought his eyes were brown, but now they looked green. She couldn’t stop staring. Maybe they would turn blue, or gray, or start spinning stars.

“I bet you will,” Helen said. Had she really said that out loud?

Luke didn’t seem offended. He hesitated, then said, “Look, Desiree has the bridal version of stage fright. She didn’t mean what she said. Here are two tickets to next Thursday’s show. A critic from the
Herald
is coming. Will you help us pack the house? You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

How could a muscular man look so winsome? “Why, thanks.” Helen hadn’t been to a theater since she had money in St. Louis. She smiled back.

Desiree came out of the fitting room, saw Helen’s smile, and frowned. She almost ran across the room to grab Luke’s arm.

The couple was gone before Kiki tip tapped out in her spike heels, talking on her cell phone. “Friday night then,” she cooed. “After the rehearsal dinner.” Kiki looked sly as a cream-fed cat. Helen wondered if she was arranging a horizontal interview with a new chauffeur.

“I’ll take that crown and the long veil,” Kiki said. “You’ll be at the rehearsal tomorrow night. I’ll also need you at the church Saturday morning.”

“Helen will be there,” Millicent said.

“I will?” This was the first Helen had heard of it. She didn’t want to spend her weekend with the wedding horror show. “I don’t have a car.”

“Take the shop van,” Millicent said. “I’ll pay you overtime.”

Overtime? Kiki would pay through the nose for this personal service. Well, Helen could use the money.

“Good,” Kiki said. “We’ll see her at six.”

“My name is Helen.”

Kiki didn’t acknowledge her. “Oops. I forgot my checkbook. I’ll give your check to what’s-her-name at the rehearsal.”

“My name is Helen.” Kiki still ignored her.

“Can’t you send your chauffeur with it this afternoon?” Millicent said.

“He’ll be busy with me.”

Busy how? Helen wondered. But Kiki was heading for the door. Helen could see Rod the chauffeur standing next to the car, mopping sweat off his brow with a handkerchief.

Helen and Millicent simultaneously plopped into the pink chairs.

“How long do you think that marriage will last?” Helen asked.

“Here’s the Millicent Marriage Rule: The length of the marriage is in inverse proportion to the amount spent on the wedding. The more you spend, the sooner it’s over. I give this marriage a year, tops.”

“A year? The bride is worth millions.”

“Not for another ten years. Luke will have to spend a decade with the mother-in-law from hell to see that money.”

Millicent studied the bloodred nails that had clawed their way to the top of the bridal business. “Luke has big plans for that handsome face. It will take lots of money to get it on movie posters. There’s been no mention of a prenup for the groom. Desiree’s parents are too busy fighting with each other to worry about their daughter.

“If Luke’s smart—and he is—he’ll stay with the bride a year or so, then file for divorce. He’ll ask for big bucks, settle for a million, and spend it on his career. Desiree’s father will still be paying off the wedding when the groom calls it quits.”

“I guess a year is a long time with those two,” Helen said. “How you can stand Bridezilla and her mother?”

“I’m not marrying them, dear. I’m just taking their money. I rather admire Kiki. She’s smart, she’s tough, and if she’d been born ten years later, she’d be running the family business. But her Neanderthal father refused to train her for business and her silly mother pushed her into society. I admit she’s vulgar. But if she were a man, would you even notice her outrageous behavior?

“Besides, Kiki may not seem like it, but she’s a god-send. I need this order to survive. Business has been too slow for too long.”

“Was it 9/11?” Helen said.

Millicent leaned forward to confide. “You won’t believe this, but for a month after the disaster, my sales shot up. I sold dresses like there was no tomorrow. You know why? Because the brides believed there was no tomorrow.

“One bride came back here six times,” Millicent said. “She wanted a twenty-six-hundred-dollar dress, but she was budgeted for two thousand. She couldn’t justify that price—and women are great justifiers. Come September twelfth, she bought the dress. She said, ‘What’s six hundred dollars when I could be ashes tomorrow?’

“Around November, reality returned and my sales slumped with everyone else’s. They’ve never quite come back.

“The eighties were the great days of retailing in Florida. That’s when the cocaine cowboys were riding high. The drug dealers would come into the shop with a suitcase full of cash. I’d lock the door and they’d pick out twenty dresses for their girlfriends. I’d have a forty-thousand-dollar sale in one afternoon. Those days are gone for good. Now I have to work to sell a two-thousand-dollar dress.

“So I can take all the dirt Kiki hands out, because it looks green to me.”

It was bad luck. It was also unnatural.

There were no mistakes during the rehearsal. Not one.

In Helen’s experience, if the wedding party stumbled around during a rehearsal, missed their cues, and laughed a lot, then the ceremony would be perfect. But everything went right at Luke and Desiree’s rehearsal. Something bad was going to happen tomorrow at the wedding. Helen knew it. She also knew that was superstitious nonsense.

Kiki had chosen Coco Isle Cathedral, the most fashionable church in South Florida, for the wedding. She did not belong to the congregation, but a big donation made her devoutly welcome.

Jeff, the wedding planner for Your Precious Day, was directing the extravaganza. Jeff was high-camp wholesome. He looked like a cute kid brother, right down to his freckled nose, but he fluttered, fussed, and talked in italics.

“Kiki, this cathedral is just
divine,
” he said.

Helen stifled a laugh. Jeff didn’t realize he’d been punning. The cathedral wasn’t a sacred place for him. It was a theater. The altar was a stage.

“Wait till you see how those stained-glass windows look in the
photos,
” Jeff said. “The altar is up
four steps.
That’s
so
important.”

“Why?” Helen said.

“So the bride is
displayed
properly. The way that cathedral train
drapes
on those marble steps.
Oh!
”

Jeff was practically palpitating. Helen wondered if she should get the smelling salts from her emergency kit. Millicent had packed her a suitcase with everything from sewing materials to spot cleaner.

Jeff had recovered from his surge of ecstasy and was now only wildly enthused. “Wait till you see the
orchids
. Absolutely
faboo
.”

Helen felt sad that no one in the wedding was as excited as Jeff. Some wedding party. Helen had never seen a grimmer gathering.

The blond bridesmaids had the bland young features that passed for beauty and the slightly superior expressions of private-school graduates. Their skin seemed steam cleaned. They stood a little apart from the others. Helen knew their names were Lisa, Allison, Amy, Jessica, Jocelyn, Julia, Meredith, and Beth, but she couldn’t have said which was which if you put a gun to her head.

The groomsmen looked like actors hired for the occasion. Most were. Kiki had chosen the best-looking men from the Shakespeare company. Jason was the studliest, but Helen thought his arrogance spoiled his good looks. Jason had the overconfident manner of someone who’d always been handsome—and knew it.

Still, his blond hair, bold green eyes, and beefcake body were eye-catching. Jason had leading-man looks, until he stood next to the groom. Luke glowed with energy. People turned toward Luke like flowers toward the sun.

Next to Luke’s star power, Jason wilted. He moved to the far side of the church. Helen wondered if Jason was jealous. He outshone Luke only one way: Jason was the best-dressed man at the rehearsal. His Hugo Boss outfit could have paid Helen’s rent.

Jason was paired with the blond Lisa. They exchanged smoldering looks and hot smiles for almost an hour at the rehearsal. Then Kiki homed in on Jason. She’d flirted with all the groomsmen, but her behavior with Jason was outrageous. She enjoyed taking the young man from Lisa, who turned sulky and snippy.

Kiki practically propositioned Jason in front of Lisa. She looked like a has-been movie queen in her gold gown.

The creamy blond Lisa sniped back with carefully disguised insults. In between bouts of marching down the aisle, one bridesmaid said, “Have you seen Pamela? She’s so skinny. How did she lose that weight?”

“It’s the South Beach Diet—Ecstasy and Corona,” Lisa said. “Right, Jason?”

Jason shot her a murderous look. The others giggled.

Helen was relieved when Kiki and Jason disappeared, until Jeff sent out a search party for them so they could do another run-through. This wedding had more rehearsals than a Broadway musical.

The church’s elevator was out of order. Helen had to lug the dresses up the steep back stairs. That’s where she stumbled over the missing Jason and Kiki. Kiki’s breasts were nearly popped out of her low-cut gold gown, and Jason had popped out as well. Was he auditioning for the role of chauffeur?

“God, you’re making me so hot,” Kiki said. “Let’s come back here after the rehearsal.”

“I’ve got a bed,” Jason said, grinding his pelvis into hers. “We don’t have to do it on the back steps.”

“I want to do it in the church,” Kiki said.

Oh, Lord, Helen thought. She wished she hadn’t heard that. The couple was so intensely wrapped up in—and around—each other, they didn’t notice her. Helen stepped around them and said nothing. Let someone else find them
in flagrante.

Rod the chauffeur sat in the car like an abandoned pet. Helen wondered if Rod knew his days were numbered.

The only man in the wedding party who hadn’t been personally selected by Kiki was Chauncey. The groom insisted on the theater director as his best man. Helen liked Luke for that. There was a decided coolness between Chauncey and Kiki.

But it was nothing compared to the frost between Kiki and her ex-husband, Brendan. Under their ice was real fire. Helen heard them exchange hot words when no one was around.

Helen gave Jason and Kiki enough time to put their body parts back in their clothes, then hauled more dresses up the steps. Now Jason was gone. Kiki and her ex were fighting on the landing. The little lawyer looked like his daughter, except he had more vitality and more chin.

“You’re making a spectacle of yourself.” Brendan was dangerously red in the face.

“It’s none of your business. I’m not married to you.” Kiki’s face-lift was stretched at the seams. Helen could see white scars under her anger-reddened skin.

“You should think of our daughter,” Brendan shouted.

“You’re a fine one to talk, questioning every penny I spend on her wedding.”

“Penny!” Brendan sputtered like an overflowing radiator. “You’re bankrupting me with this goddamn wedding.”