All Dressed in White Read online

  Laurie had lost track of the number of times that her values as a reporter had clashed with Brett’s unmitigated quest for ratings. Now that she was pitching a case that was perfect for television, he was finding far too much enjoyment in giving her a hard time.

  “Actually, I’ve given that some thought. Even if Amanda left of her own accord, we do have victims. She walked out on her distraught family, and left behind at least one innocent person suffering under the gaze of public suspicion. I’m perfectly happy if we find out the truth, no matter where that leads us.”

  “Well, for once, you and I might be on the same page. This is a good mystery, and the story of a disappearing bride is perfect for television—a young, beautiful woman vanished into thin air from a five-star hotel on the most important weekend of her life. I think I’ve been an excellent influence on you.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Laurie said dryly. She was already running through the other perks of the case. Of course Grace and Jerry would be thrilled with the setting. Laurie’s father, Leo, and son, Timmy, could be with them while they were on location, hopefully in August. Depending on the timing she might be able to finish the shoot before Timmy started school again in September. Her mind had wandered to the thought of brainstorming interview sessions with Alex on the beach when Brett asked another question. “Who’s on board?”

  The biggest challenge for their show was convincing the victim’s friends and family members to participate. “So far just her mother, and supposedly the siblings and one of the bridesmaids,” Laurie said. She quickly added, “I didn’t want to reach out to anyone else until I got your approval.” That sounded much better than This case just fell in my lap this morning.

  “Full speed ahead. The Runaway Bride sounds like a Runaway Hit.”

  10

  Charlotte Pierce told the waiter that she’d like to have the green salad and the salmon. “And some more iced tea,” she said, smiling politely as she handed him her menu. What she really wanted, of course, was a bloody mary and the steak frites, but she was dining with her mother, which meant she would remain on her best behavior in every way.

  Charlotte was all too conscious of the fifteen extra pounds she was carrying these days. Unlike her siblings, she wasn’t naturally slender, and had to “work a little harder,” as her mother used to put it, to maintain a “healthy weight.” Ironically, Charlotte’s recent weight gain was the result of all the long days she was putting in at Ladyform and the all too frequent fast food she ate to keep herself going.

  “Well, this certainly is a lovely restaurant,” her mother said, once the waiter was gone. Charlotte had chosen this spot because she knew that her mother would appreciate the elegant and spacious dining room, filled with fresh flower arrangements. She had also made a point to pull her long, messy, light brown waves into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her mother always had a way of suggesting that she wear her hair in a more stylish cut. To Charlotte’s ear, it sounded like her mother wishing she were more like Amanda. “How is everything going at work?”

  As Charlotte spelled out the plans for marketing the new line of yoga wear, including a fashion show on the cable channel New York One, her mother seemed to be only half-listening. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve run on too long. Oh no, I’m not turning into Dad, am I?”

  “Don’t even suggest it,” Sandra said with a smile. “Remember when the three of you set a timer to see how long he could babble about the new convertible bra?”

  “That’s right. I almost forgot.” Some of the Pierce children’s biggest laughs had been at their father’s expense. Big, manly Walter Pierce had no qualms talking about bras, underwear, and girdles at the dinner table, in front of their friends, or in the checkout line at the grocery store. It was all just work to him, and he loved his work. The particular incident Mom referred to was Thanksgiving, and the bra was the Ladyform “3-in-one,” which converted from standard straps to strapless to a racer-back. Ladyform was the first to launch that design.

  When it became clear that Dad was conducting yet another one of his “seminars,” Henry was the one to retrieve the timer from the kitchen. He, Charlotte, and Amanda had covertly passed it in a circle around the table as their father described every configuration, going so far as to use his napkin in a demonstration. By the time he realized what was going on, his children’s faces were close to purple from trying to suppress laughter, and the timer had hit the eight-minute mark.

  “You kids always gave your father the hardest time,” Sandra said, reminiscing.

  “Oh, he loved it. Still does,” Charlotte added, reminding herself that her mother and father rarely spoke anymore. “So, Mom, you called yesterday and announced that you were on your way to New York. I love seeing you, but I suspect you didn’t fly across the country just to have lunch with me.”

  “It’s about Amanda.”

  “Of course it is.” Everything her parents said or did or thought was always about Amanda. Charlotte felt cruel for her immediate reaction, but the truth was that her parents had always favored Amanda, even before she disappeared. Charlotte had spent most of her life feeling less accomplished, less attractive, and less recognized than her little sister.

  Things had gotten even worse once Amanda was out of college and working at Ladyform, Charlotte thought bitterly. She had been at Ladyform four years before Amanda joined the company. But Amanda had come up with the idea of pairing famous female athletes with fashion designers to create high-end sports bras. After that, Dad treated Amanda as though she were Einstein reincarnated. Amanda’s idea was a great one, Charlotte thought grudgingly. The fact that I’ve been more than filling her job these past five years doesn’t seem to have been noticed by either of my beloved parents.

  She signaled the waiter. When he came over, she said, “A vodka martini, please.” Then she looked at her mother. “Okay, Mom, what about Amanda?”

  11

  As soon as they left Brett’s office, Laurie gave Jerry a light squeeze around his shoulders. “You were terrific in there. I can’t believe how much you knew about the case!”

  “I was in college when Amanda Pierce disappeared. My entire dorm was completely obsessed. I think I missed two days of class, glued to CNN. I knew then that what was supposed to be a little internship here was my true calling.”

  Harvey from the mailroom passed them, wheeling a cart of mail with one hand, the other occupied by a half-eaten croissant. “You’re officially my favorite person at work today, Laurie.”

  “Happy to hear it, Harvey.”

  Once Harvey was out of earshot, Jerry said, “His wife wouldn’t be so happy. Last I heard, she had him on some gluten-free diet. I’m glad he’s cheating a bit. The mail’s been messed up all week.”

  Laurie smiled. Jerry always seemed to know everyone’s business. “So how come you never suggested the Runaway Bride for the show if you were that into the case?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

  “Because of Greg? Jerry, once Greg’s murderer was found, I had a sense of peace. Certainly not closure but peace. That’s why if our programs give other people that feeling, I’m glad.”

  It was true. Once she finally got the answers she’d been looking for about Greg’s death, she realized that there was something comforting about certainty. A restoring of order. Though she originally created Under Suspicion purely to have a successful news program, she now saw it as a way to help other families.

  “Honestly, I considered suggesting Amanda’s case for the show once I got promoted to assistant producer. But then when we were in Los Angeles on the Cinderella Murder case, we were staying in that enormous house, and you said something about the pool being nearly as big as the one at the Grand Victoria. You looked sad thinking about it. I assumed—” He let the thought go unspoken.

  “You assumed right, Jerry. I was there with Greg, but I’ll be fine.”

  12

  Huddled in Laurie’s office, the three of them—Laurie, Jerry, and G
race—made a list of all the people they would need to contact before they could officially go into production with Amanda’s case. Grace had never heard of either Amanda or the Runaway Bride, so it took Laurie a few minutes to explain the case and its connection to their surprise visitor that morning.

  “Well, that makes more sense now,” Grace said. “Sandra called while you were in your meeting. She said I should tell you that her ex-husband, Walter, is—quote—all in.”

  “Excellent,” Laurie said, checking Amanda’s father off the list. “Sandra gave me a list of all of the bridal party members who were at the resort when Amanda went missing. The groom, Jeffrey Hunter, is still a public defender in Brooklyn. He’s now married to Meghan White, Amanda’s best friend, who was also the maid of honor.”

  Grace let out an “ooooh” in response to the scandalous news. She liked to think that she could spot the culprit on immediate instinct.

  “Don’t go jumping to conclusions; we’re journalists, remember?” Laurie laughed. “On Jeff’s side of the party were two of his best friends from college—Nick Young and Austin Pratt. To Sandra’s knowledge, both of them are in finance, most recently here in New York, so hopefully they’ll be easy to track down. The third groomsman was Amanda’s older brother, Henry. I take it he’s the nonconformist of the family.”

  Jerry was scribbling frantically. “And what about Amanda’s bridal party?”

  “There’s the maid of honor, Meghan White—”

  “The one who stole the groom,” Grace said.

  “Is currently married to the groom, yes. Amanda’s sister, Charlotte, the oldest in the family, was also one of the bridesmaids. She’s now the heir apparent to the family company, which is Ladyform, by the way.”

  “I love that stuff,” Grace said in a whisper, as if it were a secret. “You put that on, and you look two sizes smaller.”

  Now Laurie knew how voluptuous Grace managed to fit inside those tight dresses she favored. “Well, I got the distinct impression that Amanda was the one who was climbing up the corporate ladder before she disappeared. We might want to be on the lookout for some sibling rivalry there. And then, finally, there’s Kate Fulton. Sandra didn’t tell me much about her, except that she already spoke to her, and Kate seemed willing to appear on the show. With the exception of Amanda’s siblings, the others in the bridal party went to school together at Colby College in Maine. Sandra Pierce strongly believes that they would cooperate.”

  “I can check Facebook and LinkedIn to see if they’re connected online,” Jerry said. He was an expert at using social networks to gather background material. “I’ll also get contact information for everyone. But that’s just the wedding party. We’re also going to need to call the Grand Victoria. Part of the strength of the case from a television perspective is the location.”

  “I’m worried about that,” Laurie told him. “The hotel may not want the publicity of reminding people that Amanda disappeared.”

  “Except there was never any indication that there was any fault by the hotel. If anything, I think the case proves that successful people with excellent taste choose it for something as important as a wedding, not to mention all the gorgeous shots of the property that we’ll include in the production.”

  “Nice pitch, Jerry. When the time comes, I think I’ll let you handle that phone call. Sandra mentioned a wedding photographer. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember the person’s name, but the hotel might remember.”

  “And of course the groom might, if he decides to sign on.”

  “If he signs on?” Laurie said. “Don’t jinx us. He’s Sandra’s number one suspect. He has to sign on.”

  13

  Sandra gave her daughter one final hug in the building lobby. “I’m so proud of you, love,” she said.

  “Mom, I’m going to see you for dinner in a few short hours. Marea, eight o’clock. You know where it is, right?”

  “You told me: take Central Park South straight across almost to Columbus Circle. I think I can manage not to get lost. It’s a joy to see you twice in one day.”

  Sandra cherished her time with Charlotte. When she lived in Raleigh, she saw Charlotte and Henry equally, two to four times a year, never enough in her view. She made a point to visit Charlotte as least as often once she moved to Seattle, but if anything, the fact that she now saw Henry regularly made her miss Charlotte all the more.

  It was sweet of Charlotte to have spent the entire afternoon with her. After a long lunch at La Grenouille, they walked up Fifth Avenue perusing shop windows and then across town until they reached Ladyform’s corporate offices next to Carnegie Hall. There, Charlotte had proudly given her mother a preview of the latest designs.

  As Sandra walked back to her room at the Pierre, she pictured Charlotte’s face at lunch when Sandra first brought up Amanda’s name. In retrospect, she thought, I should have told Charlotte yesterday on the phone about my plan to go to the Under Suspicion studio. That way, today could have been purely a fun day.

  She should have known that any mention of Amanda would put a damper on the visit. Charlotte was always comparing herself to her little sister. Even five years after Amanda disappeared, she was competing with Amanda’s memory.

  Once I told Charlotte about my meeting this morning with Laurie Moran, she seemed excited, Sandra thought. And she was quick to volunteer her willingness to participate if the show got the go-ahead. “A day never passes that I don’t miss Amanda,” Charlotte had said. But there was that moment when her face fell at the mention of her sister’s name, followed by the urgent request for a martini.

  Charlotte is a good, decent person, but why is she so insecure, even jealous? Sandra sighed. Charlotte’s envy could bring out the worst in her. In the seventh grade, she had been suspended for tampering with another student’s entry in the science fair.

  But no matter how jealous she had been of Amanda, Charlotte would never hurt her little sister. Or would she? Sandra, horrified that the thought would even cross her mind, felt a stinging lump in her throat.

  14

  As the number 6 train lurched to a stop at the 96th Street station, Laurie was replaying the conversation with Jerry in her head. He knew more about Amanda’s disappearance from five-year-old news coverage than Laurie had managed to glean during a two-hour conversation with Amanda’s own mother. That’s how well he knew the case. Yet he had refrained from pitching a show about his own cold-case obsession because of a comment she had made months ago in Los Angeles. You looked sad, he had said. I assumed—

  Jerry hadn’t completed the sentence. He didn’t need to, because he had assumed correctly. Laurie’s only previous visit to the Grand Victoria had been with Greg. It was their second anniversary. New York had suffered an especially bitter winter. More than by the cold, Laurie’s mood had been affected by yet another month passing without becoming pregnant. Her doctor told her that these things didn’t always happen right away, but she and Greg had been so eager to start a family once they got married.

  Sensing her worry, Greg had surprised her on a Thursday night, announcing that he had arranged to take a long weekend off from the Mount Sinai emergency room, where he was a resident. They spent four marvelous days, swimming and reading on the beach during the day, enjoying long dinners in the evening. Timmy was born nine months later.

  When Greg died, I had felt so alone, Laurie thought. We had always pictured ourselves having four or five kids. She loved Timmy—he was more than enough all on his very own—but she never thought he’d be an only child.

  But now, nearly six years after Greg’s death, she realized that she and Timmy had never been at risk of being alone. Her father, Leo, had retired from the NYPD to help raise her son.

  And my immediate family didn’t stop there, Laurie thought. Grace could read her mind with one look. Jerry had known that she might not be ready to delve into a story about a young couple getting married at a resort where she’d once celebrated with Greg. Jerry and Grace were co-workers, but
they were also family.

  And then there was Alex. I don’t want to go there right now, she thought.

  She walked quickly the few blocks to the apartment. As she slipped her key into the front door, she felt the stress of the busy day fade away. She was home.

  15

  She was greeted by the smell of chicken roasting in the kitchen and the familiar sounds of cartoon fighting from the living room. Pow! Hah! Timmy was playing Super Smash Bros. on his Wii, while Leo read the sports section on the sofa. Laurie had tried to restrict Timmy from these types of games for as long as possible, but even she had been forced to cave.

  “Mario doesn’t stand a chance,” Laurie said, recognizing one character on the screen battling her son’s virtual self.

  Timmy unleashed a lethal kick and then let out a satisfied “Yesss!” He scrambled up to hug her.

  “There she is,” Leo said as he stood up. “How was your meeting with Brett?”

  Laurie smiled, appreciative that her father remembered that today had been the scheduled pitch. “Better than I could have expected.”

  “What was his reaction to the cases you were torn between?”

  “Forget them. Something really terrific came up today.” She gave him the short version of the surprise visit from Sandra. “Do you remember the case?”

  “Vaguely. I was still on the job back then, so there were enough crimes in New York to keep me busy.”

  Laurie heard the musical chime of a game coming to an end, and Timmy set his controller down. Obviously, he had been listening to them. “So does this mean you’re going to be leaving again?” he asked, a touch of anxiety in his voice.