Murder of a Wedding Belle Read Free Page A

you?”
    “Well, duh. How about we start with you letting me come inside?”
    “And why should I do that?” If her visitor was going to be snarky, so was Skye.
    “Because we have an appointment.” Belle’s tone conveyed that she was stating the obvious. “You don’t think I drove down this rutted path you people call a street for the fun of it, do you?”
    “We have an appointment?” Skye tucked an escaped chestnut curl back into her ponytail. Surely she’d have remembered agreeing to meet with this woman. “For what?”
    “To go over details for Riley’s wedding.” Belle handed Skye a candy-apple red business card. Printed under her name were the words Bridal Consultant . “You’re my local liaison.”
    “No, I’m the maid of honor.”
    “Yes, but you’re also acting as my assistant.” When Skye shook her head, Belle enunciated slowly, as if she thought Skye might be a little dim, “You know, my helper.”
    “You’ve been misinformed.” A sharp wind dashed a sheet of rain into Skye’s face. “But I guess you’d better come inside so we can straighten this out.” She unchained the door and swung it open.
    “Finally,” Belle muttered loud enough for Skye to hear. The wedding planner closed her umbrella, leaned it against the side of the house, then stepped over the threshold, her Alexander McQueen ankle boots clicking on the hardwood floor. Belle’s gaze swept the foyer from the freshly painted mocha walls to the curving staircase. A slight smile on her lips, she said, “This is so sick. That spot would really rock it for a picture.”
    Sick? Was that the new word for hot ? “Not really.” Skye pointed to her left. “Let’s sit in here while we figure this out.” She needed to get the woman seated before she insisted on a tour of the house. Only the foyer, parlor, and dining room were fully remodeled. Skye had run out of money before completing all the needed renovations, and she didn’t want to see Belle’s look of contempt when she saw the rest of the place.
    After they were settled, Belle asked, “Seriously, you’re telling me that no one talked to you about assisting me?”
    “Yes. I’m fairly sure I would have remembered that conversation.”
    Bingo, who had followed them in, began sniffing the woman’s legs. Belle moved her feet. “I’m allergic to cats.”
    “Would you like a Benadryl?” Skye fought the impulse to put Bingo in another room. She didn’t see any indication of red eyes or a runny nose, but if the bridal consultant was truly allergic, maybe she wouldn’t stick around long.
    “Let’s just get this over with.” Belle took a legal pad from her briefcase. “Next time we can meet somewhere else.”
    “I told you”—Skye barely held on to her temper—“there won’t be a next time.” Clearly the woman was used to ignoring whatever she didn’t want to hear.
    Belle’s squeaky voice was petulant. “Do you know who I am?”
    “Riley’s wedding planner.” Skye raised an eyebrow. “Unless you just gave me a fake business card.”
    “Not just a wedding planner.” Belle tossed her head. “ The wedding planner to the stars.”
    “Sorry, never heard of you.” Skye watched the occasional episode of Access Hollywood and read the tabloids while waiting in line at the grocery store, but the name Belle Canfield didn’t sound familiar. “Whose weddings did you do?”
    “I don’t have to prove myself to you.” A tiny crease appeared between Belle’s eyes. “I’ve worked on plenty of celebrity weddings.” Under her breath she muttered, “This is so not fair. I’m way prettier than Paris Hilton, and my family’s way richer, but no matter how much I bust my ass, that ditzy nut job still gets all the media attention.”
    “Well.” Skye struggled to keep her expression neutral. Belle had seemed so confident until now, but her insecurity was starting to show. “I’ve still never heard of you.” Why would anyone want to be like Paris Hilton,