Wedding Day Murder by Leslie Meier Read Free Book Online Page A

was also equally incredulous. They turned in unison to face Ted.
    â€œNothing’s more important than a wedding,” asserted Lucy.
    â€œThat’s right,” chorused Phyllis. “You tell him.”
    Ted looked at the two women, then blinked and swallowed hard.
    â€œWell, just so you get your work done,” he said, retreating to the tiny morgue, where they stored the back issues.
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    Lucy felt a little thrill of anticipation when she drove the Subaru into Sue’s driveway and parked. She was finally going to get a look at Sidra’s millionaire fiancé. Her experience with millionaires was limited; the only certified millionaire she knew was Norah Hemmings. Not that she knew the talk show host very well. In fact, Lucy only knew her at all because Norah’s son Lance was Elizabeth’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. Although Norah was definitely a charismatic person, she didn’t really appear wealthy. That was probably part of her appeal, thought Lucy. Millions of middle-class women wouldn’t turn on the TV to watch someone they couldn’t identify with, someone like those perfectly groomed and coiffed women pictured with their winning horses in Town & Country magazine.
    As an Internet millionaire, Ron didn’t have to worry about offending the viewing public with obvious displays of wealth. He probably looked like the men in Ralph Lauren ads, thought Lucy, or those haughty fellows in the Brooks Brothers ads. They were always tall and tanned and muscular, with sharply defined jaws and straight teeth. Straight hair, too, which the wind blew away from their faces. They were the sort of men who faced the wind and defied the elements, guys who were so sure of themselves that they could dare to wear pink shirts.
    Lucy had hardly gotten herself out of the car when the door flew open and Sue ran out to greet her.
    â€œWhat took you so long?” she demanded, nervously wringing her hands.
    â€œI got here as soon as I could.” She gave her friend a quick hug and noticed how tight her shoulders were. “Is something the matter?”
    â€œOh, no,” insisted Sue. “It’s just that I’ve never met them and, well, it’s a bit awkward. We don’t seem to have much in common.”
    â€œWell, they’re from New York. It’s a different world,” said Lucy, giving Sue’s hand a squeeze. “Just remember you do have something in common—Sidra. You all love Sidra.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Sue, leading her through the house to the deck overlooking the backyard. Stepping through the sliding doors, Lucy spotted Sue’s husband, Sid, standing against the railing. He worked as a finish carpenter and usually wore jeans and work boots, but Sue must have insisted he get home early and change. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he was looking rather uncomfortable in a dress shirt and chinos—he looked as if he had gained a few pounds since he wore them last. Lucy gave him a big smile while she waited to be introduced to the others. Sid nodded solemnly.
    â€œThis is my best friend, Lucy Stone,” said Sue, draping an arm across Lucy’s shoulders. “Lucy, this is Thelma Davitz and her son, Ron.”
    Lucy had a gracious little speech all prepared, but it flew out of her mind when she was finally confronted with Ron and Thelma. All she could manage was a little “Hi,” delivered in a squeaky voice.
    â€œLovely to meet you,” said Thelma, extending her plump little hand. Her arm was paved with gold bracelets and her fingers were covered with enormous rings.
    Lucy gingerly grasped the proffered hand, hoping she wouldn’t be injured by a protruding gemstone.
    Meeting Thelma’s eyes, which were bristling with fake eyelashes, Lucy took in her brittle, bleached hair, her remarkably taut and unlined face, and the numerous chains draped around her crepey neck. Continuing her survey,