Till Death Do Us Tart Read online

  He held on to my hair for a second longer. Then gave his head a slight shake as if forcing himself back into the moment. It was a feeling I knew all too well. “Sí, we are ready. Chef Garrison has the dinner service prepared. Ramiro and I will go change and then after the ceremony the staff will have trays of appetizers and chilled wine ready for the guests.” He nodded to the far end of the kitchen where round trays were lined with crystal stemware and bottles of Uva’s white blend were resting in buckets of ice.

  “How is Helen?” Carlos wiped his hands on his crisp, white apron.

  “Good. She’s a bit nervous. But she looks amazing. What about the Professor? How was he today?”

  Carlos’s eyes twinkled. “He is wonderful. I had Ramiro deliver his invitation, and he was very touched.”

  I could picture the Professor’s response.

  “Thomas suggested we go golfing. Ramiro drove the cart. He was a speed demon, zooming down the rolling hills. We were a good foursome. The Professor is quite skilled at golf and Ramiro thinks that Thomas is the ‘coolest.’ He wants to become a police officer now.”

  “That’s funny.” I stole a glance at a platter of gorgeous hand pies. “Do you think he was okay with the surprise?”

  “Yes, yes. He put on a good show, but I think that he had an idea of what was happening.”

  “Really?” I made way for a waiter carrying a tray of crystal vases filled with sand. These would be used to display grilled kebabs.

  Carlos nodded. “Do not say anything to Thomas. He is very excited about surprising his boss, but the Professor and I shared a look. This is not a man who can be easily fooled. I am sure he knew about the secret, but I also know he will happily play along.”

  That was true. The Professor was one of the most brilliant men I had ever met, and he had spent a lifetime solving crime. It was silly that we had thought that we could fool him. I agreed with Carlos though. Why say anything? The guests would be arriving soon, and the Professor was such a good sport I was sure that he eagerly stepped into the role of surprised groom.

  I glanced outside. “What about the setup? Does anything else need to be done?”

  Carlos shook his head. “I think it is good, but you can see for yourself.”

  I hesitated. “I was going to bring Mom a glass of wine or champagne and a little snack.”

  “I will do this. You go to see what you think.” He practically pushed me out the sliding doors.

  The deck had been completely transformed. Twinkle lights had been strung in vertical rows from end to end. Garlands of sweet, fragrant jasmine and evergreen boughs hung between the lights. Long tables had been covered in white linens. Tapered white candles and more greenery had been interspersed between stacks of plates and silver serving trays. The railing had been wrapped in white roses and peonies. I breathed in the succulent scent of the flowers and descended onto the grassy area.

  Here more garlands with bountiful white roses and sprigs of jasmine stretched from the top of the rose-colored altar out into a group of oak trees. Rows of chairs covered with white linen had been arranged facing the altar. Glowing paper lanterns hung from the trees, and torches lit the path down into the grape fields where more twinkle lights danced in a happy welcome. To the right of the altar the grass housed circular tables. The barn doors had been opened revealing a wooden dance floor and even more golden lights.

  It was more stunning than I could have imagined. Mom and the Professor were going to love it. I returned inside and checked in with Steph who had been tasked with placing the sugar flowers on the wedding cake. We would take it out to the barn after the ceremony.

  She was wearing a dress. A black dress, but nonetheless a dress. Mom and the Professor weren’t sticklers for formality. I knew that they wouldn’t care that Stephanie had broken tradition and worn black to a wedding. In fact, I wondered if that etiquette even held true anymore.

  “Is this what you wanted?” she asked. The black dress hit just above her knee. She had tied a purple ribbon in the same shade as her hair around her waist, and wore a thick black ribbon around her head. Her cheeks were dusted with purple glitter.

  “You look great,” I said.

  She scowled. “I heard you kind of have to wear a dress to a wedding.”

  “No. Mom wants you here. She doesn’t care what you wear.”

  Stephanie shrugged. “It’s fine.”

  “The cake is looking equally great,” I said, very pleased with how it had come together. It could grace the cover of any bridal magazine. Each tier retained its own unique style and yet the cake as a whole looked cohesive. If I didn’t know that each delicate, wispy flower had been made by hand, I would have thought they were real. “Do you need anything else before I go change?”

  “Nah, we’re good.” She tugged at her dress. “Have you met that guy, Adam? He’s one of the waiters.”

  “Yeah. Why?” My eyes scanned the kitchen, but I didn’t see him.

  “He’s super uptight about the wine. Won’t let anyone touch it. Bethany grabbed a bottle to take some pictures for Instagram with the cake and he freaked out on her.”

  “Really?”

  Steph twisted the ribbon around her waist. I could tell that wearing a dress was out of her comfort zone. “Yeah. He’s weird.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Chef Garrison about it, but this is Mom’s wedding. If you want to take a bottle of wine for pictures or anything, you have my permission.”

  “Cool.”

  I returned to the bedroom upstairs. Maybe it wasn’t just my imagination. The fact that Stephanie thought Adam was acting strangely made me reconsider my initial reaction to him. When I had a chance later I was going to have to check in with Chef Garrison. But for the moment, I had a wedding to focus on.

  Mom and Carlos sat on two Adirondack chairs on the small balcony. They were laughing easily.

  “What are you two up to?” I asked, stepping outside.

  “Carlos suggested that we turn this into Romeo and Juliet. Since we have a balcony after all.” Mom turned to me. Her face was bright. “Have you seen the view from up here?”

  I shook my head. Then took in the aerial view. The vineyards and grounds looked as if they were aglow. Everything I had seen from ground level looked even more spectacular from this vantage point.

  “Carlos also suggested that Doug and I take some photos from up here. Don’t you think they’ll look beautiful?”

  “For sure.” My eyes traveled down the long windy road that cut through the vineyard. I could see headlights in the distance. “Guests are starting to arrive.”

  Mom raised her glass of white wine. She took a sip. “That’s my cue.”

  Carlos left to change. I put on my dress. A dreamy sky-blue knee-length dress with strappy sleeves and a flared skirt. It had a hint of an Elizabethan style. Delicate white flowers had been embroidered along the waist and neckline. The color brought out the blue in my eyes and blended nicely with my fair skin tone.

  “Honey, you look divine,” Mom noted as we looped arms and took the stairs one at a time. We hid out in the office where a box contained both of our bouquets and headpieces. I placed Mom’s floral crown on her head. The contrast between the greenery and dainty white flowers was striking. A Rose by Any Other Name had made a floral tiara for me too. I felt like I was living in a fairy tale as I secured it to my head with bobby pins. Then I handed Mom her bouquet. “Are you ready for this?’

  She beamed with delight. “I am. I really am, honey.”

  A knock sounded on the door. It was Carlos. He had changed into a black suit with a pale blue tie. My throat tightened at the sight of his slicked-back hair and dashing eyes. “It is time, Helen.” He poked his head inside.

  She gave me a final grin, then squeezed my hand. I went first. Carlos steadied me with a firm grasp on my wrist. “Julieta, you are a vision,” he whispered in my ear as we rounded the front of the winery and made our way toward the music.

  A medieval minstrel band complete w
ith flutes, a harp, a trumpet, and guitar, played the “Wedding March.” I didn’t trust myself to speak. As we approached the archway, Carlos dropped my arm and faded into the background. I was aware of the crowd of friends and family, but my eyes focused on the Professor who stood underneath the arch of flowers. His face held such happiness that I thought my heart might explode.

  I marched slowly, knowing that Mom was behind me. Once I arrived at the archway, the Professor kissed both of my cheeks. The guests stood as the minister cued the band to play “Here Comes the Bride.”

  Mom floated above the ground. Her smile was wide. Her eyes were dewy. I barely heard the minister speak as they exchanged their vows. It wasn’t until the Professor cleared his throat to recite a custom poem that he had written for Mom that my tears really began to flow.

  “Dearest Helen,” he began. His eyes were locked on Mom’s. I noticed that she clutched his hands to help steady him. Time stood still. It could have been the fifteen hundreds. The Professor in his king’s costume with a regal tapestry coat, jacquard shirt, and tights, and Mom in her equally resplendent wedding gown.

  “By moonlight, by sunlight, in stillness, in brightness, you are my shield and I shall forever be your shadow. I’ll follow you through summer’s glare, through winter’s darkness. You, the beacon of my heart, my everything, my everywhere. I will dry your tears, hold you in moments of sorrow. I will sing to you from mountains and serenade you from the sea. We will dance boldly into an unknown future, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Let the rain fall, let the west wind blow, let the snow swirl and the earth shudder. Our love will stand strong. I will stand with you, by you, for you. You, my beloved.” His voice cracked. “My wife.”

  Mom stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. The Professor dabbed his eyes. And then the minister announced that they were husband and wife.

  Suddenly, they were kissing and everyone was on their feet and applauding.

  I followed behind them as they danced down the aisle toward the oak trees. Mom was married, and I couldn’t be happier. If only I could have held on to that moment. Little did I know that the joyous occasion was about to take a nasty turn.

  Chapter Eleven

  As promised, waiters flanked the aisle holding trays of chilled wine and puff pastry with goat cheese, tomatoes, and basil, mini-quiches, shrimp puffs, skewers of grilled chicken and veggies, Italian meatballs, and antipasto.

  The Professor kissed my hand as I made my way through the greeting line. “Well played, dear Juliet. I don’t believe that I’ve ever seen your mother’s eyes shine so bright. A perfect surprise, I must say.”

  I studied his kind face. “You were both surprised, right?”

  “But of course. Why would you think otherwise?” He tipped his velvet cap decorated with jewels. I caught a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Thank you for arranging such a wonderful day. I very much enjoyed spending the afternoon with Carlos, Ramiro, and Thomas.”

  “Word has it that you beat them all at golf.”

  The creases in the Professor’s cheeks widened with his smile. “A gentleman never shares his golf score.” There was a brief lull in the line, as the waitstaff brought out trays of red and white wine. “Juliet, I assume you’ve been in contact with Lance?”

  I nodded.

  The Professor lowered his voice. “I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accomplish much in the way of information about his father’s murder.”

  “You think it was murder?” I fluffed the skirt of my dress.

  “Most definitely.” He scanned the crowd. “I do fear that there’s not much that can be done. Even if I had a suspect, I can’t make an arrest, and as you well know your mother and I will be leaving tonight. Do keep an eye on Lance. I know that your friendship means the world to him.”

  “Of course. Is there anything else I can do?”

  He waved to a guest wearing an elaborate gown. “Alas, no. I had a private conversation with Thomas this afternoon and have shared everything. I also put in a call to a friend in Medford who has promised to keep him and Detective Kerry in the loop.”

  The line began to move. The Professor kissed my cheek. “Again, many thanks, my dear.”

  I continued on, wishing that the Professor didn’t have to think about murder on his wedding night.

  Soon the reception was in full swing. Music wafted from the barn, where a five-piece band serenaded the happy couple. People mingled and nibbled on appetizers. They wandered the grounds. Once dinner service had been set out on the deck they queued up and loaded plates with flank steak, garlic, herbed whipped potatoes, a strawberry field salad with toasted almonds and balsamic vinaigrette, and Torte’s bread assortment with hand-churned butter.

  I didn’t have a moment to myself. Everyone wanted to congratulate me on Mom’s wedding. I kept checking in with the kitchen staff, and made sure the dessert bar and cake would be ready to go once guests had finished dinner. Confident that Chef Garrison had everything under control, I went to double-check how many tables had been set up in the barn for our dessert spread.

  The band played low as people noshed at high bar tables that had been placed around the dance floor. The dessert tables flanked the stage. They had been covered with greenery and cascading bouquets. As I made my way through familiar faces, I did a double take when I spotted a couple slow dancing. It was Thomas and Detective Kerry. They looked quite cozy and completely oblivious that anyone was watching them. I had never seen Detective Kerry in anything other than a pencil skirt or tailored slacks and a professional blouse, but tonight she wore an ankle-length red silk dress with a plunging neckline. Her hair fell loose to her shoulders, giving her a soft appearance. I had always thought that she was pretty, albeit serious. Tonight, she looked stunning. Thomas didn’t notice when I walked by them on my way to the dessert tables.

  I stopped short of the tables, though, because Adam and Megan, Lance’s fake date, were standing behind the speakers. Megan wore a skintight black leather dress and combat boots.

  “Get out!” She socked Adam in the shoulder. He didn’t flinch. “I’m serious. You need to go. Now! You can’t be here.”

  Adam puffed out his chest. Was he going to hit her?

  Without thinking I raced over and jumped between them. “Hey, break it up.” I held out my hands to keep him away from her.

  “It’s fine,” Megan said to me. Then she shot Adam a scathing look and stomped away.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be serving?” I asked Adam, who was staring at Megan. A shiver ran down my spine. The way he was watching her made me nervous. She didn’t appear to be a woman who couldn’t hold her own, but his beady eyes and intense gaze were unsettling.

  “Yeah.” He gave me a half nod and followed after Megan.

  I did not trust the guy. Every interaction that I had had with him made me more confident that Lance had been right. He was up to no good. I checked the dessert tables and returned outside.

  Wine flowed freely and the sound of laughter filled the starry night. On more than one occasion Carlos and I locked eyes. I found myself wistful and wishing for a moment alone. Blame it on the dewy feeling of love that was thick in the sultry night air.

  “Jules!”

  I turned to see Sterling and the rest of the Torte crew gathered at a picnic table. They waved for me to come join them. “Well? What do you guys think? A success?” I asked, taking a seat on the edge of the table.

  “Double thumbs-up, boss.” Andy held up a glass of fruit punch in a toast. He looked grown-up in slacks, a forest-green dress shirt, and navy and white striped tie.

  “Wow, everyone looks incredible.” It was true. Sterling had opted for black with a dark suit jacket and silver tie. He and Steph sat on one side of the picnic bench with their knees touching. Bethany wore a glittery headband in her curls and a cute eggplant pixie dress.

  “Oh my!” Lance’s voice sounded behind me. “The gang’s all here.”

  “Lance.” I turned and embraced him. “How are you?”r />
  He shook his head, and addressed the team. “You won’t mind if I steal away your fair leader for a moment?”

  “Take her,” Andy said with a wink. “If she sticks around here any longer she’ll put us to work.”

  Lance linked his arm through mine. “Don’t you sweat the thought for a minute, you handsome young devil. Should any of you ever consider a change in careers, contact Uncle Lance.”

  “Hear that, boss?” Andy called as Lance and I walked away. “We’re going to be stars.”

  “Pastry stars,” I bantered back.

  “Darling, you look absolutely ravishing.” Lance planted a kiss on each of my cheeks.

  “You too.” I kissed his cheek. He had outdone himself as always. His costume must have come from OSF. It was made from rich maroon velvet, embroidered with gold thread, and complete with a doublet, breeches, cape, and pleated white ruff collar.

  We paused at an empty high bar table. “How are you? I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. You never came by Torte yesterday.”

  Lance plucked a single white rose from the bouquet in the center of the table. “I didn’t want to trouble you. I know how much stress you’ve been under.”

  “Your dad died.” I put my hand on his forearm.

  He massaged the petals on the rose. “True.”

  “Did you speak with the Professor?”

  “Yes. Although I got the distinct impression that he thought I was mistaken about my father’s breathing machine. He said something to the effect that ‘grief and shock are clouding my vision.’ I assure you that my vision wasn’t clouded. Someone unplugged my father’s life-support machines.” He ripped a petal from the rose.

  “I don’t think so. I just talked to him, and he’s sure it was murder.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. On that note, who else was there when your father died? Leo, right? Was anyone else there? A nurse? Doctor?”

  “No.” Lance pressed a petal between his fingers. “Just Jarvis and Sarah.”

  “Didn’t you say that your dad died in the middle of the night?”