Read Online Weddings Can Be Murder by Connie Shelton - Free Book Online Page B

“Vic will call me. I know
she will.”
    I wished he’d displayed the same emotion and
sincerity outside a few minutes ago. It was nerves—I knew that. I
just hoped everyone else could see it.
    Taylor started toward the elevators and I
caught up and tapped his shoulder.
    “We wanted to see if we could get into
Victoria’s business files, Kent. Ron felt we should notify her
clients … let them know there might be delays in their
projects.”
    “Charlie, we picked up her calendars and
current files as evidence. I have no idea where this will go. Once
we’ve checked out the leads we need, we’ll release everything, but
I have to warn you it may be awhile.”
    “How about getting into her house? I just
feel like … I don’t know … there might be something a family member
would recognize as being of value. If nothing else, I should clean
up the mess before she gets home.”
    His expression was momentarily unguarded.
Clearly, he believed there was a good chance Victoria would never
come home. I swallowed hard. He turned and punched the elevator
button. On the far side of the lobby I saw Ron and Ben Ortiz
standing near a side entrance. I caught up with them and we walked
to the lawyer’s office in silence.
    The news conference was the hour’s top story
on the radio as I started the truck.
    “I can’t think straight,” Ron said.
    “You need some rest.”
    “I need to get busy. Let’s go to the
office.”
    “Ron—”
    He shushed me and I drove. Luckily, it
didn’t appear the media people had discovered our offices yet. The
gray and white Victorian sat dark and quiet in weekend mode so I
pulled down the side driveway and parked behind. I started coffee
brewing, wishing we’d at least pulled through some drive-up and
brought food with us.
    Upstairs, I could hear Ron clumping around
in his office, then the sound of canned laughter. As I approached,
a commercial for laundry detergent blared, then the familiar voice
of the noon newsman who promised an update on the sensational story
of the missing bride. Great, Ron. Can’t we stay away from the
damned television? I started to voice my opinion but the
introductory music was already on and there was my brother’s face
on the screen in his office.
    “Our lead story this weekend, the
frightening events surrounding a bride who never made it to her
wedding, and the groom who wants the whole thing to go away.”
    “What!” I stormed into the room and reached
for the remote.
    “Charlie, we have to know what’s being
said.”
    My gut churned as we watched. The edited
film showed Ron stammering—his one hesitation—during the interview.
His past-tense reference to Victoria was quoted intact. His
expression seemed uncertain, his face haggard and unflattering in
contrast to Ben Ortiz’s. The lawyer’s use of makeup made him look
smooth and camera-ready. When the talking heads came on to opine on
the subject, of course it was Ortiz’s past defenses of
guilty-looking defendants which was brought up first. I thought I
would throw up.

Chapter 8
     
    November, 1978
     
    Juliette took the cassette from the
dictation machine and put in a fresh one, ready and waiting for
Al’s next batch of letters. A month into her new job and she was
beginning to feel more confident. She’d bought a plant for her
desk, taken all the tags off the new clothes, and had even gone out
to lunch with Sheila a couple of times. She knew how Al took his
coffee and which files he preferred to keep in his own office,
although she still hadn’t a clue why some were different than
others.
    “Juliette, I need five copies of this bid.”
Al Proletti walked through the connecting door from his office,
wearing a long-sleeved dress shirt for the first time with today’s
cooler weather.
    “Certainly, Al. Right away.” She reached for
the sheaf of pages, which he shifted slightly so their fingers
touched as she took them.
    She blushed and pretended she hadn’t
noticed.
    “Put those on my desk when