Janet Evanovich - Full Bloom

"If this Erdle person isn't doing his work, why do you keep him?"

"I sort of inherited him, as well as that crazy cat, after my grandmother died. He lives upstairs in the carriage house out back. He's supposed to do the yard work and repairs around here in exchange for free room and board. I hate to fire him, because he's worked here since I was a kid. He knows there is going to be a big wedding here in two weeks, and that I want everything to be perfect."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Destiny said. "Jamie says your parties and weddings are beautiful. I think it's amazing you're able to provide all that and run a bed-and-breakfast."

Annie smiled at the compliment. "I do a lot of juggling, but I enjoy it. This wedding will be special to me since I've known Jamie for so long. We met shortly after she took over the Gazette. After her father died," Annie added, remembering how Jamie had struggled for years to keep it afloat before taking on a silent partner. That partner had been none other than multimillionaire investor, technological genius, and philanthropist Max Holt. In less than a year they had turned the Beaumont Gazette into a top-notch newspaper and watched subscriptions triple.

In their spare time they had cleaned up town corruption, avoided being killed by hit men and a crazed swamp dweller, and brought down two top Mafiosi.

Despite it all, Max and Jamie had fallen in love and had chosen Annie's home in which to be married. Max and Jamie preferred small and simple to the pomp and fuss of a celebrity wedding that would create a media circus. Which was why the wedding was so hush-hush; even the guests had been sworn to secrecy. Annie hoped they were able to pull it off. She was determined to give Max and Jamie a wedding they would remember for the rest of their lives.

Only …

A storm had passed through several nights before, littering the yard with leaves and branches, and Erdle was AWOL.

The rain had seeped through the ballroom windows where Max and Jamie's wedding dinner was to be held, damaging the wood floors and drawing attention to the fact that the floors desperately needed sanding.

And Annie had little spare time on her hands, what with cleaning and cooking three meals a day for her full-time tenants and preparing for a luncheon, a baby shower, and a dinner party all scheduled for that week. Not that she was complaining; that's what kept her bills paid.

Annie's tenant, Theenie Gaither, came down the back stairs. She wore a simple blue housedress, ankle socks, and white sneakers. Her short blue-gray hair, which she had washed and styled once a week at Susie Q's Cut and Curl, had been sprayed so heavily that tornado winds would have snatched her head off her shoulders before mussing her hairdo. "Good morning," she said in a light, fruity-textured voice. She glanced at Destiny, and Theenie's smile faltered briefly as she took in her breasts. "Do we have a new guest?"

Annie introduced the women. "Destiny will be staying with us for a while," she said. "There was a fire in her apartment building late last night, and the residents were forced to evacuate until a building inspector checks it out."

"They think it was faulty wiring," Destiny said. "My landlord is so cheap he won't do anything to the building unless he's forced."

"Oh my," Theenie said, looking at Annie. "Is the wiring okay here?"

"Yes, Theenie," Annie said, knowing the woman tended to fret over every little thing. "Guess what?" she said, hoping to redirect Theenie's thoughts before she found something else to worry about. "Destiny works for the Beaumont Gazette. She's the Divine Love Goddess Adviser."

Theenie looked impressed. "I thought I recognized your name. I read your column every day." She headed toward the automatic coffeemaker, where Annie had already set out her favorite mug. "I assume Destiny knows about you-know-what," she said, glancing at Annie, who nodded in response.

"I think it's very romantic that Max and Jamie are going to be married on Valentine's Day," Destiny said.

Theenie gave a shiver of delight. "We're all so excited! I can't wait until I'm allowed to tell my friends at the beauty parlor. They will be so envious. And Jamie is going to be a beautiful bride."

"Jamie's the one who told me about this place," Destiny said, "and I'm glad she did. It's so …" Destiny paused as if trying to come up with the right word. "Unique," she finally said.

Annie laughed. "Outlandish would better describe it," she said, "but it was my grandmother's dying wish that I not sell it or make cosmetic changes." She gave an eye roll.

"I wouldn't change it, either," Destiny said. "I think it's quaint."

"It grows on you after a while," Theenie said. She carried her mug to the table and sat next to Destiny. "No offense, but are you really psychic? I mean, there are a lot of phonies out there."

"I'm the real enchilada," Destiny proudly stated.

"Oh my! Wait until Lovelle finds out. She lives here, too, but she's in New York City visiting her daughter." Theenie leaned closer. "But then you probably already know that," she said in a hushed voice. "I'll bet you even know what street her daughter lives on." She didn't give Destiny a chance to reply. "Tell me, do you sense anything strange going on in this house?"

Destiny opened her mouth to respond but was cut off when Annie bolted from her chair. "I just heard a car pull into the driveway," she said. "I'll bet it's Erdle." She raced to the window. "Yep! Boy, is he in trouble!" She opened a drawer and pulled out a large rolling pin.

"Uh-oh," Theenie said.

Annie threw open the door. "Wait till I get my hands on that man!"

Theenie jumped from her chair with the agility of a woman half her age. "Now, hold on, Annie," she said. "Let's not do anything rash."

But Annie was already gone.

* * * * *

Wes Bridges parked his Harley in front of the massive three-story antebellum mansion and stared at it for a full minute before he thought to cut his engine. "Damn!" he said, climbing from his bike. "Now that's something you don't see every day."

He took in the four-column portico, each fluted column adorned with plump gold cherubs. Lavishly carved dentil molding ran beneath the eaves, and wrought-iron balconies sprouted from every window, designed in curlicues and rosettes. The look was repeated in the fanlight of what appeared to be an extra room or attic gable that made up a partial fourth floor. Gray moss clung to the live oaks and shuddered in the breeze, and a large tree, currently bare, stood to one side. An elaborate fountain dominated the front yard, spilling water onto yet more cherubs, all naked, some performing what appeared to be sexual acts.

"Interesting," he said, noting a sign out front that read: The Peachtree Bed-and-Breakfast. Vacancy.

"Perfect," he said. Wes pulled off his helmet and took the walkway toward the house, admiring the expansive piazza, which looked as if it could accommodate at least one hundred guests. Antique wicker settees and rockers with fat floral cushions offered seating and a great view of the marsh and the bay beyond. Pots of pink and white geraniums softened the look of the coral stone exterior.

Wes paused at an ornate door and studied the solid brass knocker of a naked man and woman embracing. One side of Wes's mouth turned up. Beside the door, an iron plaque dated the house back to 1850. Instead of using the knocker, he rapped on the door and waited. He was about to knock again when he suddenly heard a man cry out several times. It seemed to be coming from the back of the house.

Wes cleared the front steps, rounded the house, and raced up the driveway, following the sounds of loud, anxious voices. He paused at a waist-high wrought-iron gate and stared as an attractive redhead in jeans and a long cotton shirt chased a disheveled middle-aged man across the yard, a rolling pin poised in her hand.