- Home
- Nancy J. Parra
Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) Page 3
Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) Read online
Page 3
I ducked under the nose of the plane and glanced above it to see Daniel give a thumbs-up. I suddenly heard a squeal come from inside the plane, and I could picture Felicity throwing herself into Warren’s arms.
Daniel stuck his head out of the plane. “Come on in, guys. She said yes!!”
My heart leapt for the second time in a matter of minutes. This time for joy, rather than terror. I put the face of the drunk out of my head as I climbed into the plane.
Felicity and Warren sat on the soft leather couch. Laura poured champagne in thin flutes and passed the crystal glasses to the happy couple. Then she gave one to me and one to Daniel. I glanced at him. “Are you supposed to drink and fly?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Your sister will be safe,” he assured me. “I’ll only take a sip for good luck.” He raised his glass. “To the happy couple!”
“To the happy couple!” we all repeated and I took a sip of the champagne.
“You knew about this all along, didn’t you?” Felicity pointed her finger at me.
I smiled and shrugged. “Maybe . . .”
“Pepper planned the entire thing.” Warren raised his glass to me in a mini toast. “Your sister is a gem.”
Felicity got up and flung her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “Thank you! This is the best proposal setting ever.”
I hugged her back. “I’m so glad you think so. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”
She kissed my cheek. “It’s perfect.” Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled with tears of joy. “Thank you!”
Warren came over and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Yes, Pepper, thank you. You made us both very happy people.”
A tear formed in my eye as warmth spread through my heart. I dashed the tear away with a finger and raised my glass. “To a lifetime of joy for Felicity and Warren.”
Everyone toasted again.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Laura said with a laugh as she snatched the glass out of Daniel’s hand. “We still have a plane to fly.”
“Fly?” Felicity looked up at Warren. “You mean we’re really going somewhere? But I don’t have anything packed.”
“Don’t worry, Pepper packed for you.” Warren nodded at me.
“Pepper?”
“I raided your closet,” I admitted. “Oh, and we got the entire proposal on tape. Cesar, come on out.”
I waved at the bathroom door and Cesar popped out with the camera on his shoulder. The light was a bit blinding.
“You taped the whole thing?” Felicity clapped her hand over her mouth.
I froze. Was she happy or sad? “Yes?”
“Oh, how wonderful!” She flung her arms around my neck for the second time, spilling champagne on my blouse. “Thank you, thank you!”
“My pleasure.” I hugged her back.
“Okay, all ashore who are going ashore,” Daniel said and waved toward the open door. He glanced at his watch. “We have ten minutes to get her rolling and taxi up to our flight plan.”
“Where are we going?” Felicity asked me.
“That is top secret, my love.” Warren took her hand in his and kissed her fingers. “Go sit down and get comfortable. I’ll see Cesar and Pepper out.”
“Congratulations!” I said as I followed Cesar to the door. The cameraman turned off his light and ducked his head as he stepped down the small gangway.
“Pepper.” Warren touched my shoulder. I turned to him. “I can never thank you enough. Everything was perfect.” He hugged me.
“It was my pleasure.” I patted him on the back and felt him slip something into my pocket. Drawing back, I reached inside and felt the distinctive paper of a check. I frowned. “You already reimbursed me for all my expenses.”
He grabbed my hand, enveloped it between both of his in a warm embrace. “It’s the least I could do. I hope you realize that there are a lot of people who would pay big bucks for help like this. You’re a natural. You know how to make things special.”
The heat of a blush rushed up my cheeks. “It’s a fun hobby.”
“It shouldn’t be.” He gave me a sincere look.
“Let’s go, kids, time’s a wastin’,” Daniel said over his shoulder as he flipped switches.
The last thing I wanted was to be caught near the plane when the engines kicked in. “Take care of my sister,” I said.
“I will,” Warren said. “Don’t worry. I have a few more surprises for her.” He winked and the next thing I knew I was off the plane, standing with my back against the cinder block hallway. Felicity peered out the window and waved. I waved back. She looked so happy. Her joy brought tears to my eyes.
I waved until they taxied out of sight. Stepping out of the hangar, I watched as the plane started down the runway. In a moment it was gently lifting into the sky. Daniel circled the airport, dipping his wing before he took off for parts unknown.
I shaded my eyes from the sun and waved like a madwoman. Felicity was a very lucky girl. Then I remembered the check Warren had slipped into my pocket. I pulled it out and stared at it. What? Who writes a check for so much money? I blinked at all the zeros.
The words “think about making this a career” were written in a manly scrawl on the memo line of the check. “If I could make this much money planning proposals, I’m all over it,” I muttered. Seriously, this check would go a long way toward paying off my bills. I decided I liked Warren more and more.
Funny, seeing such a large sum on a check was so strange, I couldn’t wrap my brain around it.
It usually took a lot to throw me off my game, but a check this size immediately following finding a guy in the ladies’ room . . . well, I’d have to say those were two of the biggest shocks of my life within an hour’s time frame. Wait! Crap, how could I forget the drunk guy in the ladies’ room?
I shoved the check deep into the pocket of my skinny jeans and dialed 911 on my cell phone.
“Emergency Dispatch,” a woman said in a monotone voice. “What is your emergency?”
“Yes, hi, I’m Pepper Pomeroy and I need to report a drunk guy in the third stall of the ladies’ room.”
“And that is an emergency because?”
“He’s drunk—passed out—incapacitated . . . in the ladies’ room. Please send someone out to take care of him.”
“What is your current address?” the dispatch operator asked.
“I’m at the Executive Airport, hangar number four.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Did you try to rouse him?”
My thoughts went back to the poke in the shoulder with the mop handle. “Yes . . . He didn’t wake up.”
“Did you call airport security?”
“No, but that’s a good idea. Are you going to send out a police car?”
“It’s standard procedure when someone calls,” the operator said. Her voice was calm and unassuming.
“Oh, okay, good.”
“Are you in any danger?”
“Not that I know of.” I shrugged but then realized she was on the phone and didn’t see the shrug. A quick look around and I realized that Cesar had not come back since following the jet to film the take off. “There’s no one here but me.”
“There’s a patrol car on the way,” the dispatcher said. “I would ask you to stay on the line, but since you appear to be in no danger, hang up and call airport security.”
“Right, thanks,” I said and hit the End button. Then I realized I didn’t know the number to the airport security guys. I mean, who knows that? Then I remembered that the head of security had given me his business card when I came through the door.
Now all I had to do was find where I put it. I checked my pockets. Yeah, not there. Did I put it in my purse? I left my bag and stuff over by the hall. It occurred to me that there might be a
phone in the office across from the restrooms. If there was a phone, there may be an emergency number list. That might be a better plan than searching my pockets.
I turned on the light switch. The room smelled old and mildewy. I saw a phone on the desk in the middle. Beside it was a list of extensions to call.
It seems luck was on my side. I picked up my phone and dialed the number I’d found on the desktop.
“Executive Airport, this is Jeb, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Mr. Donaldson, this is Pepper Pomeroy. I’m at hangar number four and there’s a drunk guy passed out in the ladies’ bathroom.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, I called the police. They promised they were on their way.”
“Don’t touch anything.” His tone was authoritative.
“I haven’t,” I reassured him. “At least not recently.”
“I’m coming right down there.” I heard a car door open and then slam closed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“He didn’t try to hit on you, did he?”
“What? No, he’s passed out . . . at least he was when I was in the bathroom.”
“When was that?”
“Just before Felicity and Warren took off on their flight . . .”
“So he could no longer be there.”
“Oh, right. I’ll go check—”
“No. Don’t! Meet me at the door. Don’t touch anything!”
“You already said that,” I mumbled then realized there was no way he could hear me with all the noise he was making so I hung up. Okay, that question made me a little paranoid. I hadn’t thought I was in any danger. I mean, he was a drunk guy, right?
Then it occurred to me that if as I previously feared, the drunk guy came to and walked out the side door there would be no drunk guy in the bathroom when the cops got here. The last thing I needed was to be hit with a fine for calling the police when it wasn’t warranted.
I hurried back out. No one was in the small hallway. I pushed open the door and stuck my head inside the bathroom. “Anyone in here?” I asked. “Mister, are you still here?” Dead silence followed.
I moved toward the stall and pushed the door open. Thankfully the drunk guy was still in the same position. “Oh, thank goodness.” I put a hand on my heart. “Okay, mister, come on. Get up. I’ve called the police.”
I pushed on his arm with the broom handle and it flopped oddly to the side. His head lolled onto his shoulder and I realized that he smelled really bad.
Narrowing my eyes in suspicion, I stepped forward. “Hey.” I snapped my fingers. “Wake up. The police are on their way. Hey. Are you okay?”
Nothing.
I bit my lip as a strange feeling crawled up my spine. Was he passed out? Or was he dead?
That thought was creepy. I studied him more closely. There was a bluish tinge around his mouth. He seemed stiff. I didn’t want to touch him. I really didn’t. Did I mention that he smelled bad? What if he woke up? He’d scare the demons right out of me.
“You’re not dead, are you?”
He didn’t reply.
I straightened and put my hands on my hips. Common sense prevailed and I realized I didn’t want to be alone with a possibly drunk or dead man. So I stepped out of the stall and dialed my boyfriend, Bobby, but he didn’t answer and I remembered that he was at a noisy bar. He probably couldn’t hear his phone.
“Leave a message at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
Beep.
“Hi, Bobby, it’s Pepper. Listen, I’m going to be late. Something has come up at the airport. Oh, ha! A pun. Get it? Something is up at an airport?” I laughed when I was nervous. I also tended to say silly things. “Anyway, I might be here a bit so go ahead and start without me.”
Disappointed that I couldn’t talk to him live and in person during this scary time in my life, I pressed the Off button and glanced around. The shadows lengthened and I wondered how much longer it would be before the police got here.
“Miss Pomeroy?”
I heard Jeb calling my name and ran out of the bathroom. “I’m here.” I hurried forward toward the open hangar door.
The hangar door was wide-open so he could see me from one hundred feet away. He hitched his gun belt on his narrow hips as he hurried toward me. “I thought I asked you to stay outside the hangar.”
“I wanted to make sure the guy was still in the ladies’ room,” I said. “He is, by the way.”
“All right,” he said. His wide shoulders and muscular biceps were reassuring. “Did you touch him?”
“No,” I said and followed Jeb down the hallway. “I have to admit, I’m kind of worried that he may be more than passed out.”
“What do you mean by ‘more than passed out’?” He stopped at the bathroom door and studied me with his intense brown gaze.
“I don’t know.” I worried my bottom lip. “He may be dead.”
“You’re telling me that you think the drunk in the ladies’ room is dead?”
“Yes.”
“Did you check for a pulse?” He pushed the door open and I followed him into the ladies’ room.
“You told me not to touch him.”
Jeb went straight to the third stall and looked inside. He muttered something dark under his breath and then turned on his heel. “You need to leave. This is a crime scene and I need to secure it.”
I took off at the sound of his voice. He spooked me with his hand on his gun belt and his serious gaze. I was outside and beside old blue before I realized it.
The sound of an approaching police car echoed through the wide-open hangar. I waved at the car, and the inhabitants cut their sirens. The sudden loss of noise was nearly as deafening as the sirens themselves. The police car lights flashed in a rhythm that was the opposite of the security vehicle’s, and the effect was rather like a disco ball.
I rushed to the two officers as they exited the cars. “Hi, I’m Pepper Pomeroy. I called 911.”
The driver of the car was about six feet tall and slender. “Officer O’Riley,” he said, his blue eyes solemn. “You called regarding a drunk in the ladies’ room?”
“Yes, only I’m thinking he may be more than drunk.”
Officer O’Riley narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by ‘more than drunk’?”
“I think he might be dead.” I winced. “I’m sorry. I would have called sooner if I’d thought he was dead dead and not simply a dead drunk.” Okay, so I babbled when I was scared. I shut my mouth and tried to slow my racing heart.
“How do you know he’s dead?” the second officer asked.
“This is my partner, Officer Vandall,” Officer O’Riley said.
“Hi.” I waved then stuffed my hands in my pockets. “He didn’t move when I tried to wake him. I thought he was just passed out, but he smells kind of funky and he’s really stiff.”
“Call in backup,” O’Riley ordered his partner. “Where is he?”
“This way.” I pointed down the hall. “I discovered him in the third stall of the ladies’ room.” I led them down the beige-painted cinder block hall. The doors were painted beige to match the walls. The only way you knew it was a door was the silver-plated handle and the little black outline of a stick figure in a skirt.
“Stay here.” Officer O’Riley held up his left hand to stop my progress. His right hand was on the butt of his gun.
“Jeb Donaldson is in there,” I said. “He’s head of airport security.”
“Did he find the body?”
“No, I did,” I said. “I called him after I called 911.” I wrapped my hands around my waist, leaned against the wall, and watched. There was quite a commotion when the officers entered the restroom. After a moment of chaos, Jeb was escorted out of the bathroom by Officer Vandall.
“I told you, I’m head of airport security. It’s my job to make sure no one messed with the crime scene,” Jeb grumbled as Officer Vandall put him against the wall beside me.
“Is this the guy you called?” the officer asked me. For a brief moment I contemplated saying no, but the look of murder in Jeb’s gaze gave me pause.
“Yes,” I said.
“Stay here, both of you,” Officer Vandall warned. “We’ll need to get your statements.” He reached up on his shoulder and hit his communication device. “Dispatch, this is Unit 73. We need Crime Scene Patrol and an ambulance to the Executive Airport, hangar number four. They won’t need to run with lights. There is a confirmed DB. Again DB is confirmed.”
The device made a squawking noise that he seemed to understand and he turned back to us. Pulling out a notebook and a pen, he asked. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. Who discovered the body?”
“I did—”
“She did—”
We answered at the same time. The officer nodded and made a note on his pad. “Ms. Pomeroy, is it?”
“Yes, sir, Pepper Pomeroy.”
As he wrote down my name, a third officer came in. “What have we got?” The new guy looked more like a Boy Scout than a police officer. I looked at Officer Vandall as if to ask if this new guy was a real cop.
“We have a DB,” Officer Vandall said. “This is Officer Flynn. Is Westin with you?”
“Right here,” came the sound of a second male voice. Suddenly the place was full of men.
Jeb crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “The scene is secure,” he grumbled. “I secured it.”
“I’m sure you did,” Officer Vandall said as the other two went into the bathroom.
A moment later, Officer Flynn came out of the restroom. He looked a little green as he rushed by.
“It’s his first DB,” Vandall said.
The sound of retching came from around the corner. My stomach leapt into my throat. Was it really that bad? Wait, this was my first dead body, too . . . My heartbeat picked up and my palms broke out in a sweat.
“Sit down,” Officer Vandall ordered and pushed my shoulder as my knees gave out.