Shear Murder (4 page)

“Oh, yeah? Veils can also be used as a disguise.” Torrie leaned over and whispered a few words in Jill's ear.

Jill jerked back as though she'd been burned. “How dare you mention her name to me? If you say one word to anyone, you'll be sorry. It'll be the last thing you ever say.”

“I'd better run along,” Bev said, after glancing at her watch. “It's almost your turn. Good luck, girls.”

While Arnie's mother charged out the door, Marla wondered what Torrie had said to Jill that visibly upset her. Or maybe Jill's trembling was simply due to nerves. Marla could easily sympathize. Soon she'd be in the same position. Along with a matron of honor, she'd have four attendants, including Dalton's daughter, Brianna. Since it was her second wedding, she didn't want a fancy affair. Their relatives had different ideas, though. Their guest list kept climbing.

Summoned outside, Marla took her place in the procession. She grasped the flowers, their scent heavy in the heat. Her palms sweated but she dared not wipe them on her gown.

Swallowing, she scanned the rows of seated guests, the rabbi up front in his white robe, and the gazebo decorated with flowers to become a chuppah. She looked forward to standing under one herself again, and hopefully the canopy held up by four poles this time would symbolize a better home for her and Dalton than her previous marriage.

Josh and Lisa, Arnie's children from his first wife, paraded down the aisle scattering rose petals. Music played in the background, drowning out the drone of an airplane overhead.

She braced herself, and then it was her turn to walk down the aisle. She held her head high, hoping she wouldn't trip, her gaze finding Dalton among the seated guests. He looked magnificent in a dark tuxedo, tall and broad-shouldered with his usual air of authority. She swallowed. In just four weeks, they'd be man and wife. Taking her place in the lineup with the other attendants, she turned to face the audience.

Jill acquitted herself admirably to the awww's and ahhh's of the assembly. Once under the chuppah, she circled the groom seven times. Not being particularly religious, Marla would readily forego this ritual during her interfaith ceremony, but she respected its meaning nonetheless.

As a convert to Judaism, her friend Jill didn't expect her relatives to understand. She'd explained the traditions in the program, which she had showed Marla last night at the rehearsal dinner. Marla had learned something new, having tuned out at Sunday school to imagine different hairstyles on her friends.

Just as the world was created in seven days, the bride, representing Mother Earth in her seven turns around the groom, reminded people that marriage was part of the creation process. At the same time, she symbolically built the walls of the couple's new dwelling, embodied by the chuppah.

Facing away from the assembly, Jill settled at Arnie's right side. Once they were in place, the rabbi recited several psalms before beginning a series of blessings that conveyed the holiness of marriage.

“Blessed are You, our God, King of the Universe, Who created the fruit of the vine.” The robed clergyman paused while the bride and groom drank from a cup of wine.

Smiling, Marla felt a surge of joy. She always liked to recite the Kiddush, the special sanctification prayer over wine included on Shabbat and festivals. Marriage demonstrated the ultimate sanctification of a man and woman to each other. Too bad her ex hadn't extended that belief to her.

Marla blocked out the rabbi's words when her attention caught on Falcon Oakwood in the front row. Perched at the edge of his seat, he was flanked by a younger woman with short reddish-brown hair in a pixie cut, and a stern-faced matron with snowy white hair and a pearl satin suit. Which one was his wife, Leanne? Surely not the older lady. From the similarity in their prominent noses and double chins, Marla would guess she and Falcon were related. The younger woman, wearing a low-cut cream shift under a lacy black dress, looked markedly unhappy.

Marla swung her gaze back just in time to see Arnie place a gold ring on Jill's finger.

“Be sanctified unto me with this ring according to the Law of Moses and Israel,” he said in a clear, firm tone.

Seeing the joy radiating from his eyes, Marla blinked back a swell of tears. Her dear friend had found happiness at last, and she mentally wished him and his bride years of conjugal bliss.

While the rabbi read the marriage contract out loud, she wondered if it was true that a
ketubah
existed for interfaith ceremonies. She'd have to look into it for her own nuptials.

Time sped while the rabbi recited more blessings. After the bride and groom took a sip from their second cup of wine, Arnie bent his knee and stomped on the traditional wrapped glass.

Marla's heart exulted. Even though this practice was supposed to remind people of the holy Temple's destruction in Jerusalem, she assigned it a happy connotation. Her mother said this was the last time the groom got to put his foot down.

Accompanied by shouts of
mazel tov!
and applause, Arnie and Jill faced the audience, smiled broadly, and strode down the aisle.

The cocktail hour got into full swing on the porch attached to the main building. Marla and the others in the wedding party lingered behind, having been corralled by the photography team for more outdoor shots. Griff and Hally hovered nearby, the former snapping pictures for their magazine while the reporter scribbled notes. As the group broke up, Hally scurried after Falcon Oakwood to get an interview.

Griff attached himself to Marla, offering to get her a drink. “Like, you can tell me about your salon.”

“Thanks,” she said, aware of his seductive undertone, “but I have to find my fiancé inside.” They trudged along the path together, while Marla took care not to soil her shoes.

“Griff, where are you going?” Torrie snapped, catching up to them. “I need you to take photos of what everyone's wearing for my fashion column.”

“That isn't my job,” he replied with a hint of annoyance. “We're covering the wedding in its nature setting.”

“What do you mean,
we?
”

“Me and Hally.” He scraped stiff fingers through his unruly blond hair. “You know we got this assignment for today.”

“Yeah, at whose suggestion to our senior editor?” Torrie's voice rose, while Marla pretended to hurry on ahead. She put a stretch of distance between them and then slowed her pace so she could remain within hearing range. “Dellene is aware I'm writing up the event.”

“Bug off, babe. This isn't your gig. I saw you talking to Falcon Oakwood earlier. He say anything about his enterprise that Hally can use as a quote?”

“Why should I help her?”

“Because some cooperative spirit might advance your cause better than your usual bitchy attitude?”

“Oh, right, like I'm gonna boost Hally's career.”

“I thought you were friends with Leanne Oakwood. Surely you got enough of a scoop from her.”

“My discussion with Falcon was private, you moron, so stop pressing me. Hally can interview him if she wants to pepper her article with his words of wisdom.” Her voice turned sugary. “Now behave, darling. When are we going to meet again?”

“I'm tied up for the next few weeks,” he replied in a sullen tone. “Can't pin down any dates right now.”

“You're not avoiding me, are you? I'd hate to think you were lying, Griff, especially when I've put myself at risk for you. Scott hasn't said anything, but he's given me odd looks lately.”

“So let's chill for a while.”

“Are you kidding? I'm ready to make my move.”

“I'm just saying it may be too soon.”

“You're not backing out, are you? Because if you've made empty promises to me, you'll be sorry.”

“Don't threaten me, babe.”

“You know what I can do.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, let me give you a word of warning. If you rat on me, you're dead.”

Marla heard scuffling noises, then smooching. “Now that's better,” Torrie crooned. “You always did like it rough.”

Griff laughed, but it sounded more like a sinister snicker.

Wondering about their discussion, Marla zoomed ahead to join the gaily dressed guests sampling hors d'oeuvres on a shaded porch. Drinks in hand, Dalton waited for her by the steps.

“Here, I thought you'd need this.” He handed her a wine glass filled with a light golden fluid.

“Thanks.” She stood on her tiptoes to give him a brief kiss before greedily gulping the dry white wine. After quenching her thirst, she moved under a ceiling fan to cool off. “Have you seen Jill? I wonder if she needs help.”

“She's fine, sweetcakes. Did I tell you how ravishing you look?” His smoky gaze dropped to her figure.

“Thanks, but pastels aren't really my color.”

“No? What are you wearing to
our
wedding? You still haven't found a dress, have you?”

“I'm looking for the perfect outfit.” Someone bumped her rear, and she turned to face a stout man in a tuxedo. He had thinning gray hair, florid skin, and deep-set oak brown eyes under prominent brows.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry,” the man said in a slurred tone. He held a wine glass that was empty except for a few dregs.

Jill chose that moment to sidle up to them. “Uncle Eddy, I see you've run into my friend, Marla and her fiancé, Dalton Vail. Marla, this is Eddy Rhodes and his wife, Alexis.”

“Nice to meet you,” Marla said to the large-boned woman by his side. Eddy's wife had rather masculine features, like a cross-dresser wearing heavy makeup. Marla couldn't help staring, while inwardly berating herself.

Alexis addressed her husband. “Come on, Eddy, you need to sit down.” She grasped his elbow.

He shook her off. “Nonsense, I'm always delighted to meet friends of my niece. How are ya, folks? Isn't this a grand wedding? Except for the liquor. Cheap stuff, but whaddya expect?” He signaled a passing waiter. “Hey, my good man. Can you kindly get me a refill?”

“You've had enough.” Alexis gritted her teeth.

“Hell, no, I'm just getting started.” He elbowed Dalton. “If you want a real vintage, you should see my wine cellar.”

“Thanks, but I'm not a connoisseur.” Dalton stepped back a pace.

“Kevin appreciates a good bottle, don't you?” Eddy drew over a long-faced man with short tobacco hair and sallow skin. “Kevin is my brother Luke's kid. Tall fellow, isn't he?”

Kevin's ears turned red. “Hi, Uncle Eddy, Aunt Alexis. Jill, allow me to congratulate the bride.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I hope you'll be happy. Arnie seems like a nice guy, even if he is Jewish.”

“So am I, cousin,” Jill reminded him. “I hope you respect my choice. Where is Dana?” Her blond head twisted to regard the company. Arnie waved to her, and she gathered her skirt prior to hastening over.

“My wife is chatting with Torrie and Scott,” Kevin said. “Yo, Jill, before you go, we have to talk. I drove by your property on the way here and—”

“Not now, please. I think it's almost time to go in to dinner.” She moved off, and Marla trailed along to offer her congratulations to the groom.

Events followed in a whirl. Guests paraded into the magnificent reception hall decorated in dark lilac, lavender, and cream, with tiny white lights strung throughout lavish floral centerpieces. Tea candles on the tables and chiffon ceiling drapes added to the romantic ambience.

Marla and Dalton didn't make the head table, reserved for the bride and groom, Arnie's parents, and Jill's sister and brother-in-law. Instead, they found their places among the other attendants, mostly recent acquaintances.

“I'd rather seat people at our affair with their friends and family,” Marla whispered to Dalton.

“Later,” he rasped back as Arnie and Jill marched in to a round of applause before starting the dancing with their special song. Marla recalled the elaborate reception she'd had with Stan. Too bad she hadn't saved her dream wedding for Dalton.

“Come on,” she yelled to him when the band started playing a lively tune. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the circle being formed, kicking her legs and sidestepping with the rest of the laughing crowd dancing the hora.

Meal courses intermingled with the music. When it was Arnie's turn to be lifted in a chair in joyful celebration, she pushed Dalton onto the dance floor to assist. At first reserved, he'd mellowed after several drinks, and he gamely joined Arnie's friends in hoisting the wedding couple to shouts of cheer and rousing music.

Hours later, after the entrée had been cleared, Jill approached their table. “Have you seen my sister?” she asked Marla. “I want to do the bouquet toss before people leave.”

Marla glanced at Torrie's husband, whom she'd met earlier. The man stood alone, staring morosely at his drink. His face reminded her of Edward G. Robinson when the actor played Dathan in
The Ten Commandments,
one of her favorite films. He wore round eyeglasses, a mustache and goatee, and a permanent hunch.

“Maybe she's gone to the ladies' room. You haven't cut the cake yet. Don't you want to do that first?” Marla glanced at the alcove where the tiered wedding cake was displayed on a decorated table. “I can get a waitress to wheel it over.”

She looked for the young woman she'd seen earlier, who had appeared fascinated by the bride. The girl's creamy complexion didn't match her severe black hair, making her stand out to Marla's expert eye. Something wasn't quite right about her appearance, but she didn't see the girl anywhere now.

“Where's the photographer?” The bride craned her neck to survey the room. “I'll have to drag Arnie over.”

Marla spotted Dalton talking to one of Arnie's relatives and signaled that she'd be occupied. “Go look for them. I can take care of the cake.”

“Torrie shouldn't just disappear like that.” Jill shook her head. “I hope she isn't talking to Kevin about our property without me. He's not here, either.”

Marla left her friend muttering to herself as she headed for the recess at the side of the stage. A slow, romantic tune played on the speaker system. She noticed a service door right behind the clothed round table on which the cake sat. The confection was beautifully done, with three layers culminating in a ceramic bride and groom at the top. The buttercream frosting was embellished with edible ribbons and rosettes that made her smack her lips in anticipation of a sugary treat.