Free Weddings Can Be Murder by Connie Shelton Page B

laugh went dead silent.
    “Wait outside,” he said to Juliette.
    The humor had drained out of the room as if
there were a whirlpool in the floor. She dipped her head in a
slight nod and did as he ordered. Three seconds later she heard a
crash from inside the trailer. She hustled toward the car as
quickly as her high heels allowed.
    Al’s face was serious when he came out of
the trailer but at the car he turned to all smiles. She took her
seat and tucked the unused steno pad beside the console.
    “Okay,” he announced. “Business done. We’re
gonna have some lunch. I got a little something to show you.”
    It was as if there had never been a tense
moment in the man’s life. She decided whatever had passed between
Al and Ernie back there was something purely between them,
something that was none of her business. Maybe the men had been
friends forever, maybe they joked around like this all the time.
She put the whole thing out of her mind as the Porsche roared onto
the freeway once again. With her head back against the headrest and
the cool breeze from the sunroof, she felt there wasn’t a care in
the world she couldn’t handle.
    They drove to a part of the city she’d never
seen, crossed a bridge and entered a drive where a guard saluted Al
and a gate swung silently open revealing large lots with mansions
set well back from the streets. He took the turns confidently.
Juliette watched for a restaurant, wondering if her simple black
skirt and purple blouse would be elegant enough for any place
around here.
    “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his
fingertips light on her forearm. “You look beautiful.”
    She gave a hesitant smile but felt the
tingle of the touch long after he’d returned his hand to the wheel.
Now he could read her mind?
    The sleek car turned right at a narrow drive
where straight rows of royal palms formed a colonnade with a tall
fountain sparkling in the distance. Al took the lane slowly and
swung around the circular drive at the end. A fawn colored building
with red tile roof spread out in two wings with a central portico
held by tall pillars. Juliette looked for a placard with the name
of the place but saw none.
    “Home, sweet home,” he said, pocketing the
car key and coming around to her side.
    This is a house?
    She allowed him to take her hand, assisting
her out of the car. He let go, shut the car door, and they walked
together up a set of stone steps. The massive wooden door led to a
foyer larger than her entire apartment. Overhead, a rib-vaulted
ceiling showcased painted scenes, like something from the medieval
cathedrals she’d read about in novels. Double staircases rose on
each side of the entry, with carved pillars and white stonework
forming arches that framed a view through two-story-high windows at
the back. She could see a shady veranda and gardens that stretched
out of sight and had to remind herself not to gape.
    “What do you think?” he asked. His blue eyes
crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
    “I think the construction business must be
very good.”
    He laughed aloud at that. “Just one of my
many endeavors, sweetheart.”
    Voices from another room snagged their
attention. A crease marred Al’s smooth forehead for a moment.
    “Hold on a minute.” He left her standing
there and crossed the marble floor, his heels clicking solidly. He
pushed open a carved door she’d barely had time to notice, and the
voices grew louder.
    A low exchange of words, deep male voices.
Al returned, leaving the door open, and took her elbow.
    “Business that can wait,” he murmured,
steering her toward the back of the house and the tall glass doors
with the veranda beyond.
    She caught sight of two men in dark suits
emerging from the room where Al had spoken to them. They seemed
large and not especially friendly, but they didn’t say a word as
they exited by the front door.
    “Hungry? Let’s eat first, then I’ll give you
a little tour.” He held the wide glass door open, calling