Chapter Six

~ Jenna ~

I do not have the time or patience for one more thing this morning.

Since Charles, Todd, and my mother left on their top secret groom recovery mission, Grace Marie has been acting like a caged animal demanding to see Riley. Maybe it’s bride’s intuition telling her something’s not right. More likely she twigged to the fact that Patricia has been snapping at me because she can’t locate her husband. Like I’d failed in my duties because I’d neglected to slap a tracker on the butts of her son and his father.

If Patricia needs a sacrificial scapegoat to allow her precious son to save face, my head will be on the platter.

My well-plotted excuses about Charles and the groomsmen taking Riley out for breakfast were already wearing thin when Ben showed up. Both of his kids were crying when he deposited them in the already crowded bride’s room. Sullen and completely over the situation, Ben announced that he had no idea where Riley was and frankly, he didn’t give a damn.

Scarlett O’Hara drama queen much?

Thank goodness Patricia is occupied with her grand kids and the maid of honor, Nicole Reynolds, is doting on Grace Marie. I can slip out of the bridal room to go meet my mother.

I need to hire an assistant. Maybe if I had an assistant, that person would’ve helped me handle the runaway groom situation better than I’m dealing with it. The problem is, I can’t afford an assistant, and if stinking Riley Buxston bails on this wedding, I might have to fold my company and start looking for a new job. As it stands, my business is barely breaking even. This gig was supposed to be the wedding that boosted me over the new business startup hump.

In the church vestibule, the quartet is playing. The sun is still streaming through the stained glass. People are signing the guest book and seating themselves since there are no groomsmen around to escort them. Though no one seems to think anything of it. In fact, everything seems tranquil and happy and fine.

Like there will be a wedding in fifteen minutes.

I muster a smile for the guests who blow in through the front door on a blast of cold air. I realize I’m still wearing my jeans and sweater because I haven’t had a chance to change. I’d planned on doing that after I’d helped the florist. Instead, I’ve been lining up babysitters and distracting the nervous bride and pacifying the surly mother of the groom.

I don’t have time to get my coat from the church office because I have to meet my mother in the parking lot.

I spy her standing by her car in the nether reaches of the parking lot waving me over. I take a deep breath and make myself chill out. Mom, thank goodness, always has a plan.

And that’s the kind of lie I’ve been telling myself rather than accepting the fact that Riley isn’t going to show.

By the time I reach her, she is sitting inside the car. I open the passenger-side door and slide in. Then I get a good look at my mother’s pale tearstained face.

Something is very wrong.

“What is it?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer me right away.

Gooseflesh that has nothing to do with the cold weather sprouts on my arms. “It’s Riley, isn’t it?”

Mom nods and sobs rack her body.

“What’s happened? Mom, tell me.”

In the moment before she answers me, I have a flashback to when I was seventeen years old and my mother delivered the bad news that my father’s latest Navy operation had gone wrong.

Missing in action. Presumed dead.

After we dried our tears, we made a pact not to lose hope. If he was missing, it meant there wasn’t solid proof he was dead. Why would anyone who loved someone give up hope if there wasn’t solid proof he was dead?

Eight years later, we’re still hoping, despite the fact there has been no word from him.

I know. I just know, even before she says a word that there will be no hope for Riley. The hair on the back of my neck prickles.

She takes both of my hands in hers. “Honey, Riley is dead.”

I blink at my mother and for a split second, my peripheral vision goes gray and fuzzy. When Mom tries to hug me, I pull away and look out the window.

Riley is dead.

Dead?

The walls go up and close off the hysteria that’s cresting inside me, threatening to drown me if I let my emotions break.

I don’t have the luxury of grieving right now.

“What happened?” I hear myself ask the question, but it’s as if I’m outside my body looking down on us.

“We don’t know yet, sweetheart. The police are looking into it.”

“What happened? Did he have an accident?”

Oh, God, please don’t let him have aspirated on his own puke. It would be my fault. He was so drunk. I shouldn’t have left him alone.

The numbness shape shifts into anger. That’s good. I can do something with anger. I can channel it into action, rather than sitting here numb and powerless.

“Tell me what happened, Mom.”

My mother looks crestfallen. I realize I’m yelling at her and hate myself for it. This isn’t the action I need to take. It’s not how I should be processing my feelings.

“We found him in his condo. He died of head trauma. It’s early, but they’re calling it suspicious.”

“As in someone murdered Riley?”

She shrugs. Nods. Shrugs again.

“They’ll know more after the autopsy.”

I gasp. “Who would do such a thing?”

“They don’t know.”

I wince and hold up my hand to stop her. I can’t hear anymore. Not right now. My composure is crumbling. I feel like I’m hyperventilating. If I let myself start crying right now, I might not stop for a while. Because even though Riley and I were over a long time ago, I loved him once. I still care about him.

But guests are showing up expecting a wedding. Grace Marie is expecting Riley to be at the altar when she walks down the aisle in—

I look at my smart watch—in ten minutes.

“I have to—” My voice breaks. I steel my resolve, clear my throat, and try again. “I have to go back inside and tell them what’s happened.”

Mom nods and grabs her purse. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need me to do.”

~ Maddie ~

I have vastly underestimated my daughter.

I should’ve known Jenna would be strong. Stronger than I am in a situation like this.

Other than the time I had to break the news about Frank—news that her father was missing—we haven’t had to deal with death. Or the loss of someone we cared about.

But Jenna has risen above her own personal grief and is keeping her composure as she meets with Reverend Flannery to enlist his help in breaking the news to the family.

While they’re talking, Ben leaves the church sanctuary and I suggest he go the bride’s room. I hear myself telling him it’s important. It’s easier than I would’ve imagined to not answer when he demands I tell him what’s going on.

“Did Riley bolt?” he insists. “He did, didn’t he? I knew he would. What a loser.”

Ben’s laugh is a humorless sound. He calls his brother a name that makes me raise my brows. He’ll regret that in a few minutes.

“Ben, please go into the bride’s room. Jenna and Reverend Flannery will be right there.”

I follow him inside the room. Patricia starts pelting me with questions. Bertie and Abigail are chasing each other around in circles.

“Children, stop it!” she yells. “Sit down and be still.”

They’re too young to hear this news.

“Why don’t I take them to the church secretary. I’m sure she’ll watch them.”

Patricia huffs. “Of course. Why didn’t Jenna think of that? Where is Jenna? Why is she not here doing her job?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I round up the little boy and girl and take them to the office next door. Apparently, Reverend Flannery has informed Maria, the secretary, because she greets me with a sad, knowing nod.

“Can Abigail and Bertie play with you for a few minutes, Ms. Maria?”

“Certainly, dear.” She takes them by the hands. “Who wants some apple juice and animal cookies?”

The children happily go with her toward the kitchen.

I’m reentering the bride’s room when I hear the reverend say to Patricia, “I’m terribly sorry, but we have some devastating news.”

Patricia had been standing. Now her knees buckle and she falls back onto the sofa that’s behind her. “Where is Charles? Why isn’t he here? What has happened? Is it Riley? Has something happened to my baby?”

Reverend Flannery continues in a gentle voice, taking Patricia’s hands in his. “Earlier today, we couldn’t locate Riley. Your husband, Todd, and Madeline went to his condominium to check on him. I’m afraid they found Riley there.” He clears his throat. “They found him deceased.”

“Wait a minute,” Grace Marie says. “Is this some kind of sick joke? Is Riley playing some kind of horrible prank on us? Because if he is, it isn’t funny. Tell him to come in here right this minute and apologize to all of us. If he doesn’t, I am not going to marry him. In fact, if he isn’t dead, I’m going to kill him.”

Jenna flinches. She telegraphs a look to me. I know what she’s thinking. That was an unfortunate choice of words.

Grace Marie’s voice is growing gradually more and more hysterical. But it’s nothing compared to her maid of honor, Nicole, who lets out a bloodcurdling shriek and yells, “What a terrible thing to say, Grace Marie!”

She collapses onto the floor in a sobbing heap.

I go over to comfort Nicole. But she’s inconsolable.

Patricia sits in quiet shock on the sofa as Ben and the reverend minister to her.

Grace Marie begins pacing and muttering unintelligible words under her breath. Jenna and Tonya are trying to comfort her, but Grace Marie swats them away, yanks the veil from her head, and throws it across the room.

“How did you know about this before I did?” She’s pointing an accusing finger at Jenna.

“My mother told me. I just found out myself, Grace Marie. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

It strikes me that not only is Grace Marie not crying, she hasn’t even asked what happened to Riley or where they found him. It’s a strange reaction. Granted, she might be in shock, and everyone handles death differently, but it’s odd that the first words out of her mouth is that this a practical joke. And then she gets mad at Jenna for knowing before she did?

I know I’m just a cozy mystery writer, but my sleuth antennae are twitching.

Something isn’t right.

Had she followed Riley over to Jenna’s? Perhaps Grace Marie and Riley had gotten into an argument after Jenna left his condominium. I make a mental note to tell Jackson this tidbit.

If this were one of my books, Grace Marie would be a prime suspect.

Nicole lets out another sobbing wail. “I…I can’t believe he’s dead. I just can’t believe it.”

I rub her back and she sits up and clings to me like a lifeline, alternately sobbing and wailing.

“Nicole,” Grace Marie hisses. “Get a hold of yourself. I’m the bride. Riley was my fiancé. I am the one who is upset. Not you.”

“I know,” Nicole sobs. “I can’t help it. I loved him, too. In my own way—”

Grace Marie’s face transforms into a mask of rage. If looks could have killed, Nicole would’ve been the next victim.

“This isn’t about you, Nicole. And what the hell do you mean that you loved him, too? That is so inappropriate. Was there something you need to confess? Something I should know?”

Grace Marie’s voice has grown from a hissing stage whisper to a full volume bellow.

Nicole stands up and answers her at the same decibel. “No, what’s inappropriate is the way you’re acting. You don’t even care. I cared about him.”

“Ladies,” Reverend Flannery admonishes. “I know this is a difficult time, but we must be respectful.”

The reverend gestures to Patricia, who is quietly sobbing into a tissue in a dignified way.

Ben is sitting at her side, glaring at the two young women. His arm is around his mother.

“How did he seem when you saw him last night, Jenna?” Ben asks.

The room falls silent. Jenna seems to freeze, a smile etched onto her face.

“Excuse me?” Grace Marie puts her hands on her hips and thrusts her neck forward. “You saw my fiancé last night? You were with Riley? He said he was going out with the guys. Did you all lie to me about what you were doing, Benjamin?”

Ben shoots her a dirty look.

I recall a saying about a person’s true character being revealed by how they act during difficult times. I wonder how the family will treat her after the show she’s putting on.

“I knew he was still in love with you, Jenna,” Nicole sobs. “He used to talk about you all the time.”

Grace Marie whirls to face Nicole. “And when were you around Riley to hear him talk about Jenna?” When Nicole doesn’t answer, Grace Marie dismisses her with a wave of her hand. “You’re not important. I want to know what Jenna was doing with my fiancé the night before he was supposed to marry me.”

Grace Marie slaps the credenza she’s standing next to.

Patricia stands up. “Girls. In the name of all things holy, stop this nonsense right now. My son is dead. The last thing anyone needs right now is for our guests to hear you carrying on like a wild animal.”

Grace Marie gasps.

“Jenna, since you seem to be exacerbating the problem, I’m going to ask you to step out of the room,” Patricia says.

I’d wager this is Patricia’s way of giving Jenna an out. Even though it’s sort of a backhanded way of going about it. “And, Grace Marie, bless your heart, you need to calm down. Have you no dignity?”

Jenna springs into action. “Patricia, why don’t you, Reverend Flannery, and I go to his office where we can talk about what to say to the guests? We need to tell them something.”

Patricia sniffles and squares her shoulders, but her eyes are pure, harrowing grief. “Of course. Benjamin, come with us.”

I catch Jenna’s eye and walk over to her before she leaves the room. “I’ll stay here and make sure these two don’t kill each other,” I say under my breath.

Jenna looks relieved. “Thanks, I appreciate your help.”

“I’ll offer to take them back to the hotel, though I think Jackson might want to talk to them before the day is over. Especially Grace Marie.” I give Jenna a knowing look.

“Yeah, remind me to tell you something later,” she whispers.

I nod and she leaves to join the others in the reverend’s office.

Something is not right between the bride and her maid of honor. It’s even more obvious the minute I’m alone with Grace Marie and Nicole.

“What was that about?” Grace Marie demands.

“What do you mean?” Nicole sniffles. At least she seems to have recovered from her initial hysterics.

“You know what I mean.” Grace Marie is standing with her hands on her slim hips, color high on her ivory cheeks. “Look at you. You’re a wreck.”

“Of course I’m a wreck, Grace Marie. Riley is dead. You’re acting like it’s just another day in your dysfunctional life. You didn’t even ask what happened to him.”

I know Grace Marie didn’t grow up with the privilege the Buxstons enjoy. I know her mother died when she was young and Patricia was the only one who accompanied Grace Marie to her dress fittings. I chalked it up to the three-hour commute between Atlanta and Hemlock.

But after witnessing her temper tantrum at the shop yesterday and seeing how she’s processing the news of Riley’s death, I’m with Nicole. I’m sensing some dysfunction beyond the bridezilla variety.

Grace Marie blinks and looks as if the fact that she didn’t ask what happened to Riley has just dawned on her.

But she recovers quickly. “Is there something you’d like to say to me, Nicole? If there is, just say it.”

“What are you talking about?” Nicole’s swimmy, bloodshot eyes are wide. Too wide. “Don’t change the subject, Grace Marie. Riley is dead and you didn’t even ask how he died. You’re not even crying.”

Grace Marie squeezes her eyes shut and then opens them. Her eyes are glistening now.

“Well…I assumed it was a car crash? Or suicide… Or—” Grace Marie starts shaking.

Her eyes fill up with tears, but there’s something staged about it. Something overly dramatic.

“I’m trying to hold it together here, Nicole.” Her voice is tremulous and venomous. “Yet, you seem determined to make me cry. Is that what you want? Do you want me to put on a big weepy show and fall apart like you did?”

Nicole opens her mouth as if she wants to say something but closes it again and simply shakes her head.

I’m just about to ask if they want me to take them back to the hotel, because who knows how long Jackson will be at the crime scene and I don’t want to be responsible for pulling them off each other if they get into a catfight.

“I know you slept with Riley,” Grace Marie says. “You thought I didn’t know, but Riley told me.”

Um…what?

Nicole is sobbing again. “You two were broken up.”

“We weren’t broken up,” Grace Marie screams. “We were on a break. You don’t sleep with your best friend’s boyfriend ever. But especially not when they’re on a break.”

“A break is the same as being broken up,” Nicole screams back. “Or at least it was in Riley’s eyes.”

“Right.” Grace Marie’s tears have dried up. She is yanking at the bodice of her wedding gown, contorting her arms to reach her back, as she’s trying to get out of the dress. I walk over to her and I’m surprised when she allows me to undo the buttons.

“We can see who he chose,” Grace Marie snipes. “He proposed to me, Nicole. Not you. He loved me, Nicole. Not you.”

“But I loved him,” Nicole screams. “You didn’t love him. I don’t even know why you asked me to be your maid of honor.”

Oh, boy. Scorned woman who obviously felt used. Yet still harbored feelings for the deceased.

Mentally, I add Nicole to my persons-of-interest list.

Grace Marie looks homicidal as she rips the dress from her body, stepping on it, and leaving it on the floor in a heap of satin and lace.

I wince. That dress cost $18,000. I know because I ordered it for her.

“I asked you because keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer. He used you, Nicole. He thought he couldn’t have me. So he used you. He didn’t love you. He used you. Got it?”

This is getting out of hand.

“Girls, it might be a good idea to leave now before they inform the guests that—that there’s been a change of plans. If we leave now, we can use the side door and be on our way before people start leaving.”

They don’t seem to hear me.

“Maybe this is a good time to talk about where you were last night,” Nicole says. “Where were you, Grace Marie?”

Grace Marie smirks at Tonya. “She’s an idiot.”

Tonya looks at the floor.

“I was with you and Tonya last night.” Standing there in her bustier and tap pants, blue garter still on her leg, Grace Marie says the words like she’s talking to a simpleton. “After the rehearsal, we went to the wine bar and then we went back to the hotel suite at 10:00 since we had to get up early.”

“You left the suite just before 11:00, Grace Marie. I heard you leave and then I checked your room. Where’d you go?”

Grace Marie doesn’t answer her.

Tonya has busied herself packing up.

“Not only that, but someone left the balcony door open in the middle of the night,” Nicole says. “Did you go out and bring someone back to our room?”

“You’re delusional. Umm…” Grace Marie looks at me after she finishes pulling a sweater over her head wags a finger at me. “Excuse me, Jenna’s mom? I don’t remember your name.”

Of course you don’t, I’m essentially the hired help. “My name is Maddie.”

“Okay then, Maddie.” She zips her pants. “I’m ready to go back to the hotel now. Let’s go.”

The mother in me wants to tell this bridezilla to hop off her high horse. She needs to pack her belongings and clean up her mess, but I just want to get her out of this church. “I’m happy to take you,” I say. “I’ll come back after I drop off the three of you at the hotel and bring you your things later.”

“The three of us?” Grace Marie asks. “Oh, no. I am not getting into a car with Nicole. She can stay here and pack up while you take me and Tonya back to the hotel.” Grace Marie’s eyes are as cold as steel. “Nicole can bring everything when you bring her back later.”

Nicole snorts. “You’re on your own, princess. I am not your maid. I’m going back to Atlanta tonight. Have a nice life.”

Nicole turns away and I can see she’s about to cry again.

“You might want to wait until you talk to the police before you leave town, Nicole,” I say. “I think they’ll want to get your statement.” I watch her carefully to gauge her reaction. If she’s guilty, she’ll want to run.

“Of course,” she says. “I’d love to talk to them and tell them everything I know. I’ll remind them to check the security cameras at the hotel. It’s amazing who they catch coming and going. Right, Grace Marie?” She pins Grace Marie with her gaze.

I swear there’s a flash of panic in the bride’s eyes.