Purrfect Poison Read online

The woman looked ready to roll her eyes, but patted his arm instead. “You guys really need to stop that dumb competition of yours. It doesn’t do the station any good. But, the sooner we get rid of her, the better,” she said, turned on her heel, and walked up the stairs.

  The man nodded at nothing and walked out the inn’s front door.

  Hazel’s heart pounded, and she forced herself to think about what she’d just heard logically. They probably weren’t going to do anything irrational. ‘Get rid of’ could mean anything, right? It probably meant they were going to fire her.

  Yeah.

  That was it.

  With all the murder in Cedar Valley recently, she was getting way too paranoid.

  With that thought in mind, she joined the wedding party.

  She and Michael had already set up their equipment in the rehearsal space, and by the time Hazel slipped in, everyone was milling around and getting in their places. It looked like a former sitting room, but it was set up for the mock wedding.

  Monica stood in the corner talking with her mother, and shooting glares at the children who were rolling on the floor. They looked about four, and kept crawling under seats, then popping up and giggling, as kids were known to do.

  Michael waved, and they waited for everything to get started.

  Once everything was in place, Pablo standing at the front with a man who was supposedly a standin for their priest, the wedding party started down the aisle.

  Monica stopped them every few minutes with a snide comment.

  First, the groomsmen walked too fast. Then the bridesmaids walked too slow. And the flower girl wasn’t sprinkling the pedals evenly enough. Not to mention the ring bearer tripped and started crying halfway down the aisle.

  It took them an hour to get it to Monica’s precise standards, and by that time, everyone was frowning and yawning, including Hazel and Michael.

  It’d already been a long day, and now it was turning into a long night. But, when she thought about the amount of money they were getting paid for this wedding, it reminded her it was worth it.

  Finally, as Monica and Pablo were speaking their vows, Pablo stumbled on one of his lines and made a joke to cover it. The entire room erupted into chuckles, and that’s when Monica lost it.

  She turned on her husband-to-be. “You think this is funny? You think it’s hilarious that you can’t remember your vows? It’s not. You had months to memorize this. You can’t go in our wedding like this is a comedy club, Pablo. I don’t want to be laughed at during my wedding!” she screeched.

  That cut the laughter short, and Hazel shuffled her feet. Next to her, Michael did the same.

  “I wasn’t making a joke out of our wedding, but I need my reading glasses to even see them,” he said and squinted at the page.

  Monica’s lips thinned into a red line. “I told you; no glasses at our wedding. Memorize the vows!”

  “But they’re five pages long. I don’t understand why we can’t shorten them.” Pablo rested his hands on Monica’s shoulders.

  She tugged out of his grip, her eyes wide and wild. “Shorten them? Those vows explain how much you love me. And I want everyone at our wedding to know in explicit detail. Why don’t you? Do you not love me that much?” she asked, hands on hips.

  Oh no, that was a dangerous question, and Hazel felt herself wince.

  “Of course I love you that much, but do my vows have to tell you how much I love you? It makes the ceremony too long, and it seems rude to our guests.”

  He did it. He didn’t just agree, which may have ended it—even if it wasn’t fair—but questioning her in a time like this… Yeah. Now it was going to get worse.

  “The wedding isn’t about them; it’s about us. It’s about me! This is my day. And I’m not happy with it. You stay up all night and memorize your lines if that’s what it takes. You better not mess them up tomorrow or else!” She threw a pile of notecards in the air, turned, and ran out.

  Her mother and sister glanced at each other, and Hazel thought it looked like they were mentally drawing straws on who had to go comfort her. It seemed like the sister lost, because she sighed and slunk out of the room after Monica.

  Michael and Hazel were left blinking at each other.

  If this is how the rehearsal went, what would the wedding be like?

  Chapter 4

  “You look like you need an extra coffee this morning,” Colton Cross, the Cedar Valley Sheriff, said to Hazel as she stepped out of her truck the next morning at the Lakeside Inn.

  She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and smoothed her hands over the dress she chose for that day. It was one of Celia’s old dresses, and those tended to end up in Hazel’s wardrobe at some point. This one was a shift dress, cut loose, with an intricate floral design of bright poppies. That meant it was comfortable and allowed her to move around easily while still looking put together. She paired it with orange ballet flats, since she was going to be on her feet nearly all day.

  “You’re here,” she said, a bit unnecessarily.

  Colton’s mouth quirked into that signature smirk of his. When they first met, it drove her crazy. Now, she found it endearing more than anything. “I am here. Didn’t get to see you yesterday, so I thought I’d see you off before your long wedding,” he said and held out a latte.

  Hazel took it and sucked down a grateful gulp. She’d had coffee at home that morning, but her usual stop was Celia’s café, CATfeinated. However, this morning, she hadn’t been able to do that. But she was looking forward to one of Celia’s bagels since her best friend was set up inside.

  “That was incredibly sweet and thoughtful,” she said, and leaned up to give him a kiss.

  He accepted it on his cheek, and turned to return it, gently, on her lips. “I hope I didn’t smear your lipstick.”

  Hazel smiled. “Jokes on you because I’m not wearing any. That’s lip gloss. But it is tinted so you might be a little pinker today than usual.”

  He made the same sort of face his niece did when she was taking a selfie, and Hazel burst into a fit of giggles. “Okay, it’s too early in the morning for you right now. Oh, that reminds me. Anthony Ray’s waiting for you in my studio. He insisted on going out, and if I left him at home, I’m not sure what would become of my couch. So I was wondering if you’d want to use his services?”

  Sheriff Cross’s eyebrows danced above his striking blue eyes. They were the same color as the deepest parts of Lake Celeste, and they contrasted beautifully with his nearly black hair, always brushed neatly to the side. “I get to deputize a cat again? All right. I can do that. Anyways, Ethel loves him.”

  That got Hazel to raise her eyebrows. Ethel was the ancient secretary who worked at the Sheriff’s Office. To Hazel’s mind, the woman had always been old. Ethel looked like she was permanently stuck in the 1960s, both in hairstyle and make-up. The only time Hazel had ever seen Ethel smile was when she brought Esther’s cupcakes to the station.

  But if Anthony Ray had a positive effect on her as well, maybe the woman wasn’t as bad as Hazel thought.

  “Just try to keep him out of trouble. And there’s some food in the fridge at the studio for his lunch. You’ll know he’s hungry when he starts getting destructive.”

  Sheriff Cross laughed, and looked ready to say more, but a panicked looking Violet charged out of the front door of the inn.

  “I’ve been texting you for hours,” she cried and looked between them. Her shoulder length black hair was tied into twin braids, and she wore a white blouse and a long black skirt—Esther’s required uniform for any catering event.

  Hazel blinked. “Him or me?”

  “You! There’s a problem with the cake, and Esther’s having a meltdown and—”

  Hazel nodded and took another long sip of her latte. She needed to deal with Esther’s meltdown. “Okay, I’ll do what I can. And you,” she said and looked at Colton. “I‘ll see you later. Tomorrow. We’ll do lunch. Or dinner. Or breakfast. Or all three.”

  He smiled,
gave her a quick hug and stepped away. “I look forward to it.”

  When Hazel got inside, she was happy to see Michael was already bustling around, though he was yawning just about as much as she was. He’d put on that baggy suit of his, and she hoped Monica didn’t have a fit at Michael’s choice of wardrobe. At least he tried.

  She didn’t have much time to take in the rest of the people bustling around the Lakeside Inn’s interior, because Violet led her by the hand to an auxiliary kitchen that seemed to be used for catering events.

  Esther was pacing back and forth next to a table, which was filled with a beautiful five-tiered wedding cake with delicate white frosting and pink flowers all over it. There were matching cupcakes on several tiers, and Hazel wouldn’t have minded stuffing a few of those in her mouth since she hadn’t had breakfast yet. The look on her sister’s face helped her refrain.

  “That’s the cake. What’s the problem?”

  Esther’s mouth worked into a frown, and she pointed at another much smaller cake. It was an exact replica of the large one. Though, when Hazel looked very closely, she could tell the frosting wasn’t quite as smooth and the flower petals weren’t nearly as detailed.

  So, this was one of Esther’s typical meltdowns. She was a perfectionist to a fault sometimes.

  “It looks fine,” Hazel said.

  Esther shook her head, and the long auburn braid hanging down her back swung with it. “No. It looks awful. It looks like Anthony Ray decorated it. No offense.”

  Hazel bit back the desire to snort. “I didn’t know my cat was so talented. Maybe he should work for you.” Esther gave her a look that said this wasn’t the time for jokes, so Hazel sighed. “Has she complained about it yet?”

  Esther worried her bottom lip and then shook her head once. “No, but she also hasn’t seen it, so who knows. The other problem is there were only enough ingredients to make a small one. The local store was completely out of the sugar substitute Carol used, so this is all she could come up with. Not to mention the taste,” she said and wrinkled her nose.

  Esther had strong thoughts about baked goods that didn’t include ingredients traditional baked goods should, like sugar and flour. In fact, she’d put up a sign in the window of her bakery reading ‘Nothing is gluten-free here!!!’ with three exclamation points, since she had several people asking. It hadn’t done her business any harm, however.

  Hazel was about to come up with more reassuring platitudes when Pablo stuck his head around the corner. “Hey, cake decorator and photographer. I’m here to check on Monica’s special cake? I forgot to tell you she was diabetic. So sorry about that. Is this it?” he asked, leaning over the small one.

  Esther nodded slowly. “She couldn’t make it as big as the original one because there weren’t enough ingredients, and it was so last-minute, and–”

  Pablo smiled, and it seemed like the sun coming up from behind the clouds. “No problem. It looks great. Even if my little Monica doesn’t say so, I’m sure she’ll love it. She just wants the wedding to be perfect. Thanks for being able to fix this on such short notice,” he said and pulled a wallet out of his pants. He fished through it and handed Esther a wad of bills. “For your troubles.”

  Esther was left stammering at the money as Pablo turned and exited the room.

  “I didn’t even ask for more money,” Esther said as she counted it.

  “Why does he carry around so much cash? Do you guys think he’s a drug dealer?” Violet asked in a hushed tone.

  Esther scoffed. “You sound like Hazel. Not everyone is guilty of something!”

  Hazel grinned at the girl. “You should take that as a compliment.”

  With Esther taken care of, Hazel went out to finally have breakfast. Of course, as soon as she got to Celia’s table on the inn’s patio, she was immediately accosted by her best friend.

  “Well? Did you see him?”

  Hazel blinked as she grabbed a sesame bagel from the buffet table and held it out to Celia to be toasted. “See who? Colton? He came by with a latte, which was really sweet, but that’s not who you mean.”

  Celia let out a huff and popped the bagel into the toaster that sat on a smaller table behind her. “Of course that’s not who I mean, but, yeah, he’s super sweet. We all know. I’m talking about Marcus. The date.”

  She uttered the words like one might emphasize ‘the end of the world’ or ‘emergency dentist appointment’.

  Right. Hazel nearly forgot about Celia’s date that day. And when she thought about it, she hadn’t seen anyone matching Rosalie Parks’ description at the rehearsal dinner. “He wasn’t here last night. So, let’s hope he shows for the wedding.”

  Celia rolled her eyes. “I hope he doesn’t. I can’t believe she tried to set me up with someone. Because she wants grandkids. That’s the reason.”

  Hazel smiled and took her offered bagel, smothering it in cream cheese. “You can’t blame her. But if you don’t want kids, just tell her.”

  Celia shrugged. “I never dated a man I thought would be a good father, so—never mind. And maybe you’re right. I’ll talk to her tonight.”

  With another crisis averted, Hazel thought she could enjoy her breakfast; then she saw Michael walking up to her, his eyes wide with worry.

  She finished her bagel in six bites, downed the rest of her latte, and took another Celia offered. “Good luck,” her best friend said.

  Hazel nodded. “You too.”

  And then she hurried away to deal with the other drama.

  It turned out this one wasn’t as severe as the others. Michael had misplaced a few of the reflective screens, but Hazel found them soon enough. There wasn’t much for them to do besides set up around the garden as the guests woke and then the wedding party disappeared to their various rooms to get dolled up for the ceremony itself.

  The time flew by faster than Hazel could’ve imagined, and she wished for one of those cupcakes even more strongly. By the time the wedding arrived, her stomach was growling, and she was hoping it didn’t interrupt the ceremony. She imagined the bride going crazy on her.

  “How dare your stomach rumble during my wedding. Is this not enough to keep you satisfied?”

  That thought nearly made her chuckle, and she bit her lip to keep it at bay.

  Hazel took her spot during the ceremony, Michael holding the reflective screen, and she shot all the pictures as the wedding party stepped down the aisle. She thought they did a remarkably good job, though the flower girl hadn’t corrected her uneven flower petal distribution problem, and this time the ring bearer fell twice.

  Like with the patio, rosebushes surrounded the garden. An arbor covered with the same blood-red roses stood at the front for the bride and groom to stand beneath when they said their vows. The priest stood waiting, and the guests sat on folding chairs placed there for the event.

  It was a beautiful location, and the weather was warm with a slight crispness to the air that kept it comfortable.

  Finally, Monica arrived wearing a strapless, white mermaid dress. Her hair was styled in a complicated up-do Hazel thought Celia could’ve managed, but Hazel would’ve ended up with knots all over her head if she’d tried.

  Hazel snapped away as the bride stepped carefully down the aisle, and then beamed up at her groom.

  Pablo spoke his vows without stumbling on any of the lines or resorting to wearing his reading glasses. Hazel could tell from the tension in Monica’s shoulders that she was waiting to see if he did it properly.

  Once he finished, Monica spoke her vows, which were remarkably shorter than his, and they sealed the whole thing with a kiss.

  Hazel got the best view of that. Between she and Michael, they probably snapped several thousand photos of the ceremony—a good fifty of the kiss itself.

  That would give Monica and Pablo their money’s worth for sure.

  Next came the official wedding photos, which went much smoother than Hazel would have thought from the disaster the day before. Everyone st
ood where they were supposed to, and Michael did his job perfectly with the reflecting screen, avoiding shining it in anyone’s eye and blinding them—which was quite easy to do.

  Hazel took another thousand or so pictures. Her stomach grumbled the entire time, and she swore Monica gave her a nasty look on more than one occasion, but they got through it without another shouting match.

  Finally, Hazel’s stomach screaming and her feet protesting, they retired for the reception.

  Instead of using the small patio, the reception was set up on the beach of Lake Celeste. White tents had been erected on the pebbly shore with tables and chairs inside them, and the food was buffet style. Each tent housed a different type of food, and guests could pick and choose what they wanted to eat and then return to the dining tent, which was larger than the others.

  All in all, Hazel realized it must have cost a fortune to pay for all these caterers along with her services, but she wasn’t about to complain. Especially when she was ready to chew off her fingers just to have something to eat.

  Michael must’ve felt the same way, because she swore a line of drool dripped down his chin as they reached their destination.

  “See you after you eat lunch,” Hazel said with a smile.

  With that, Michael rushed into the Italian tent while Hazel ducked toward the Indian one. She’d have some of Raj’s food first, and then maybe head over for some tacos—or pizza—or yeah, she was famished.

  In fact, Hazel had been so busy working, she hadn’t noticed if Celia’s date had even arrived at the wedding. If he had, they must’ve sat in the back where Hazel never looked. With her plate full of food, she started eyeing the tables for her best friend.

  Usually, Celia stood out in the crowd, but there were a lot of women with dark curly hair, and it took a moment to place her.

  There, in the back.

  Well, Marcus Banks had shown, and he was sitting far enough away from the bride and groom’s table that it was clear he wasn’t a guest of honor. Celia sat stiffly next to him, sipping a glass of champagne.

  As the photographer, Hazel wasn’t sure of her official table, but she didn’t think anyone would mind if she sat there.