Just Murdered by Elaine Viets Read Free Book Online

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    Helen went back to the van and piled the last two bridesmaid dresses on top of the Hapsburg princess gown. Halfway up the steps, she felt a seismic shift in the slippery fabric. The princess gown started sliding out of the plastic cover. She should have put it in a zippered bag.
    “Shit!” Helen said as the dress skittered out of the bag. She made an awkward grab and scratched her arm on the gown’s crystal beading. Blood droplets welled up on her skin. Oh, no. She couldn’t afford to bleed on this dress.
    “Are you okay?” Desiree stood in the stairwell.
    “I’m trying not to bleed on your dress,” Helen said.
    “I hate it. I’ll give you fifty dollars to ruin it.”
    “Sorry,” Helen said, “but I’d lose my job.” Unless I’ve already lost it.
    Desiree sighed.
    “Why aren’t you at the rehearsal?” Helen said.
    “Jeff’s working out the bridesmaids’ processional. I’m not needed. I don’t think I’m needed for this whole ceremony.”
    Helen felt a stab of pity for the forlorn little woman.
    “There you are. Where have you been?” It was Luke, looking fetchingly worried. Was he afraid his meal ticket was having second thoughts?
    “My awful dress scratched her arm,” Desiree said. “I’m trying to get her to bleed on it. I hate that dress. It makes me look dumpy.”
    “Desiree, you’re beautiful no matter what you wear. Come.” Luke was such a good actor, Helen almost believed him. He smiled and held out his hand. After a slight pause, Desiree took it.
    The pair left Helen to struggle up the stairs alone with the three dresses. She was puffing by the time she made it to the top. She shoved the bridesmaid dresses into a closet, then examined the heavy Hapsburg princess gown. It was an ugly, unlucky dress, covered in crystal beads by wage slaves for the captive daughter of the rich.
    Helen saw a tiny discoloration on the skirt that could have been blood. She put a little spot cleaner on a Q-tip, and dabbed at it until the mark disappeared.
    Helen was not sure if this church answered the brides’ spiritual needs, but it understood their worldly ones. The bride’s room had long, lighted dressing tables, bales of Kleenex for wedding tears, comfortable couches, and acres of closets. There was enough moisturizer, nail polish, cotton balls, and Band-Aids to stock a drugstore. A cup held every kind of scissors, from nail cutters to pinking shears.
    Helen hung the wedding gown next to the bridesmaid dresses. She had one more dress to carry upstairs. She wearily wrestled the rose gown up the narrow stairs, cursing the springy hoop all the way. At least she didn’t meet anyone on the steps.
    The scratch on her arm had opened again, and blood dripped on the hall tile. Helen hoped she didn’t get anything on the rose dress. She searched the skirt for blood spots. She didn’t see anything, but it was hard to tell with the dark red taffeta.
    To hell with it. Helen pushed the rose gown into the closet with the cobweb dress. Jeff, the wedding planner, ran into the room, looking anxious. “Helen, Kiki wants to go. She says you’re holding her up.”
    “Believe me, I want out of here, too.” Helen ran down the stairs. Kiki stood at the door like a jailer, jangling the keys to the church. As soon as Helen was outside Kiki locked the huge doors.
    “Uh, Kiki, I need the check for Millicent,” Helen said.
    Kiki held up her tiny gold evening purse and walked over to her car. “No room for a checkbook in here.” She slid into the waiting Rolls. The door shut with an insolent clunk.
    Helen didn’t look forward to calling her boss with this news. She walked slowly to a pay phone.
    Millicent’s fury nearly melted the phone. “Helen, go back, get those dresses, and put them in the shop van.”
    “Kiki locked up the church, Millicent. I can’t get back in.”
    “Then go home, Helen. I have her cell phone number. We’re going to have a little talk. If I don’t get a satisfactory answer, I’ll go