He and Jessie had decided to split up to interview the two couples that came to Peninsula with the Newhouses: Matthew & Eleanor Darcy and Malcolm & Abigail Andrews. They checked with Hugo, who conferred with scheduling to determine where each couple was currently.
The Andrews were halfway across the property, finishing up a private yoga lesson. Jessie offered to talk to them so Hugo volunteered to drive her to meet them. That left Ryan with the Darcys.
As he made his way up the hill to Honey Potter’s private coaching bungalow, he couldn’t help but think that Jessie had leapt at the chance to take the other couple because she didn’t want to inadvertently interrupt the end of whatever was going on there. He had the same concern but it was too late to back out now.
As he passed a garden courtyard with a dais at one end which was clearly intended for smaller weddings, his thoughts turned to the one he and Jessie were planning, or not planning as it seemed these days. All their organizational efforts had ground to a halt, largely a result of his fiancée’s intransigence.
No suggestion he offered seemed to excite her. They’d visited a half dozen venues in the last month, each of which she’d rejected as too grandiose. She’d also put off appointments with a florist, a caterer, and two bakeries that specialized in wedding cakes. Even his passing reference earlier to getting ideas from this place seemed to irk her.
She kept telling him that she was happy with something small but he knew the real reason that she repeatedly said that: because she didn’t want to make him feel “less than.” Jessie knew that he didn’t have the financial resources that her previous husband, Kyle Voss, did, and she didn’t want him to feel bad if he couldn’t contribute as much as Kyle had. He suspected that she worried that if she gave any hint that she wanted something bigger, he’d sink into a shame spiral. So she insisted they go small.
But Ryan wasn’t having any of it. He didn’t want her lasting memory of her “big” wedding to be to a sociopathic murderer. After all, Kyle hadn’t just tried to kill her when she discovered he had framed her for killing his mistress. Once the guy was released from prison on a technicality, he had killed her mentor, Garland Moses. After that, he tried to do the same to her, Hannah, and Ryan. That’s how Ryan ended up stabbed and in a coma—because of Jessie’s ex. He simply couldn’t allow the man who did all that to be the face she pictured when she recalled her big day.
So Ryan would keep at it. Eventually Jessie would realize that he wasn’t afraid of the financial commitment and relent. Eventually she would let him make their wedding an event that could replace the original in her memory.
As he climbed the last hill that led to Honey Potter’s bungalow, one other possibility crept into his head. What if Jessie wasn’t balking at all his wedding ideas because she didn’t want him to feel bad or to overspend? What if she was resisting because she was having second thoughts about getting married? The thought sent a cold chill through him.
He was just approaching Potter’s door when it opened and two people who must have been the Darcys stepped out. Matthew had his arm wrapped around Eleanor’s waist, though in more of a perfunctory than a romantic way.
Matthew was a big guy, well over six feet tall and around two hundred and fifteen pounds. He was wearing slacks and a yellow polo shirt that was straining just slightly against his mild paunch. Ryan, who didn’t know how these kinds of sessions worked, had half-expected the man to be dressed in a smoking jacket or other similarly passion-friendly attire. His blond hair was engaged in a battle against the wind. He appeared to be about forty, still ruggedly good looking but starting to get a little saggy in the jowls and craggy on the forehead.
Eleanor was a little younger, closer to Bridget Newhouse’s mid-thirties. She wore a tan sundress with an unbuttoned purple cardigan. She was much smaller than her husband, nearly a foot shorter and easily a hundred pounds less. Her black hair was cut short, pixie-style, which accentuated her sharp cheekbones and button nose. She bristled with intensity, as if she was waiting for a starting gun to go off for whatever activity she had planned next.
A moment later a third person emerged from the bungalow. Ryan was ashamed to realize he was disappointed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It wasn’t like the woman was going to be wearing lingerie and tanning spray. But still, the modesty of her outfit was surprising. Honey Potter had on a white blouse and a red, high-waisted, pencil skirt—a term he only knew because Jessie was fond of wearing them. Both were form-fitting but not in a way that screamed “former porn actress.”
She wore glasses and her brown hair was tied up in a bun, both of which gave her an academic vibe. She was attractive, but in a subdued, non-bombshell kind of way. Had he not been told of her prior profession, he never would have guessed it. Honey noticed him coming first.
“Somebody’s a man on a mission,” she noted drily.
“I’m sorry?” Ryan said as he got to them.
“You were walking very purposefully,” she explained, “As if it was extremely important that you arrive at this place at this moment.”
“You’re not far off, Ms. Potter,” he said, refusing to let her or anyone else take charge of the conversation. He needed this couple to recognize his authority so that they were in a compliant mood when he started asking them questions. “I wanted make sure I was able to catch the Darcys before they left. I assume I have the right folks: Matthew and Eleanor Darcy?”
“You do,” Eleanor said. “I’m Ellie and this is Matt. May I ask who you are?”
“You may,” he said. “But I’ll need to answer privately, away from your…coach.”
“My goodness,” Potter replied, surprised and seemingly delighted. “This is an unexpected development.”
“What’s that?” Ryan asked.
“Usually men come up with excuses to get closer to me,” she said, “not get away from me.”
“Don’t take offense,” he told her. “It’s nothing personal. I just need to speak with the Darcys about a time-sensitive matter.”
“Of course, don’t let me keep you,” she said before turning her attention to the couple. “Matt and Ellie, I think that was a very productive first session. Please remember that tomorrow, you should come in less binding attire so that we can really get into the juicy stuff. But for the time being, you should head off with the detective.”
Now it was Ryan’s turn to be surprised.
“How did you kn—?” he started.
“I stay abreast of local news, Detective Hernandez,” she said with a sly smile. “Or didn’t you think someone in my position was aware of current events? Your lady friend, Ms. Hunt, is a full-on celebrity and it’s hard not to take notice of the tasty side piece that’s with her in half the footage I see.”
“Thanks, I think?” he said, trying to avoid looking flummoxed in front of potential suspects. Not only was he slightly embarrassed, now he’d lost the element of surprise with the Darcys. Whether that was Honey Potter’s intent or not, he didn’t know. But if he was going to keep the advantage with them, he needed to move fast.
“You’re very welcome,” she replied, for the first time sounding like the cliché of the seductive temptress that he’d been expecting.