Peril at the Party: Missteps of Murder, #1

By Aubrey Elle

Once grand and gorgeous, the castle-like Baycourt Hall is now on the brink of closing. If business stays steady for the party venue, newly hired event manager Anna Glenn might be able to help the owners—handsome handyman Sean and his bubbly grandma Ruby—save it from failure.

A wedding reception starts on a rocky note, but when the party wraps up, it turns downright deadly. Before the guests can depart, Anna discovers Father Asher stabbed in the foyer. Baycourt isn't only crumbling, it's a hotbed of peril.

Asher won't be missed, not with his habit of stealing church funds. But with the fresh scandal of his death, the townsfolk recall previous trouble Baycourt has weathered—typical drama that comes with idiots gathering. Despite the current unsolved murder, Anna and her aunt Pru are focused on another Glenn sister, Josie, who disappeared after attending a funeral there many years ago. When Anna learns Josie wore a family heirloom Aunt Pru wishes to have back, Anna attempts to search for clues at Baycourt.

Just as she finds a clue that suggests Josie's locket might have gone missing at the hall, another reception begins. Hopefully, nothing further puts anyone in peril, or there's no chance of saving Baycourt Hall—and Anna won't be able to solve the mystery buried in her family history.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aubrey Elle
• Release date: Jun 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393464358

Book preview

Peril at the Party

Disclaimer

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books by Aubrey Elle

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 Aubrey Elle

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

Chapter One

Oh, no.

A lipstick-smeared napkin lay over the half-eaten chocolate cake, the plate set precariously at the edge of the largest fountain’s rim. The fork slid down, teetering the china toward the softly rippling water.

No!

The deep vibrating bass of Staying Alive shaking the old stone walls of Baycourt Hall could hop that dish right into the tinkling waves. Once that cake floated and disintegrated, it’d take hours to get that crystal-clear water back. Time I didn’t have.

Helping the short staff collect dishes wasn’t a trial, but I did not want to end my night of babysitting a rowdy wedding by fishing out disintegrating brown blobs.

Surely, I could manage another dish...

Wincing as I passed under the speakers to collect the forgotten dessert, I stooped, picked up the abandoned cake, and set it on top of the tower of plates and glasses in my other hand. I’d only started my job at Baycourt Reception Hall as an event manager last week. I’d had my doubts; the once-gorgeous building was bordering on derelict ruins, but the owners were too charming to deny.

Dipping my toes in event management duties had been a whirlwind of activity. However, a waitress, I was not. Nor was I a busboy—busgirl?—but I wasn’t about to wait for one of our caterers to find this dessert dish on the fringes of the reception. Steadying my load, I held my breath, channeling my nonexistent juggling experience.

Before I could fully straighten, someone swooped close, relieving me of half of the small plates I’d collected.

You know, the bride is supposed to be the star of the evening, that rough voice crooned.

Rolling my eyes, I refused to smile. My divorce was still too fresh to consider enjoying this flirtation—if that was what it was. I technically was a millennial, but it was still taboo to think about hooking up with the boss, right? Sean, I’ve got beer splashed on my shins and sparkly confetti in my hair. Do not try to fool me into thinking I’m anything close to attractive right now. I prayed my deodorant was still strong, at least.

The brute of a handsome blond hardly looked ruffled. He took me in, wincing as he looked at the frizzy mess of my hair. Hmm. That’s what I meant. With his own stack of plates in one hand, he gently brushed at the freshly trimmed locks atop my head. You’ll never get this glitter out. I could see the shine across the room.

Funny.

He winked and walked with me toward the bar. As he was the owner—or at least part owner of this aging reception hall in our small town of Orson, that wink could have been pervy. My new employer coming on to me. His teases had yet to cross the line from mirth to sleaze, though. Most of the time, when he wasn’t worrying, he was fun.

I mean, normally, we try to stay out of sight while remaining ever-present to guests. Scanning the room, he sighed, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling in a show of fatigue. Not outshine the lady of the night.

Outshine? Hardly! Like I told Ruby, I haven’t worn this dress in years. I—

That dress is fabulous, Ruby insisted from behind the bar, wiping off the bartop as she danced to the music. Dangling silver earrings shook and swayed to the Bee Gees as she put some groove into it. Tonight, she’d taken a demure appearance of an employee in a white button-down and trim black trousers instead of her usual bold gown and ample makeup. She almost looked grandmotherly.

I set the plates behind the bar and tugged on my hem regardless. But perhaps not appropriate for work, I told her. If my other go-to black dress hadn’t gotten lost at the laundromat, I would have worn it. As it was, I’d donned something I’d purchased some ten years ago, back in my late twenties when diets and exercise mattered more to me.

It’s a classic little black dress. Ruby waved her hand in dismissal, turning the gesture into a whole-body spin. Of course, it’s work appropriate. At least it is when your work is a par-tay!

And some party it is, Sean grumbled at his grandmother behind the bar. "Of all nights for not one but two of the servers to be off, and the bartender..."

Ruby nodded at a guest setting an empty champagne flute on the bar. Oh, the night’s almost over. She grinned at him and winked at me. Like grandmother, like grandson? I couldn’t help but fall in love with them, enough that I’d agreed to work here when it seemed Baycourt was on the brink of either falling down or going bankrupt. Sean’s responsible boss personality and Ruby’s effortless, bubbly spirit were the perfect yin and yang.

We’re almost done, Ruby said, checking her watch. Already past midnight.

Are you holding up okay, Gramma? Sean asked her as he tidied his dishes next to mine.

She blew a raspberry as a reply. Nothing could crack her I got it attitude. Of course, I am. It’s kind of fun coming back here every now and then. Besides, our Anna’s handling the floor just fine.

Just fine. Ha. I felt like I was supervising children let loose with too much sugar. This was my second wedding since working for Ruby and Sean at Baycourt, and I’d had my doubts about this one.

The ceremony seemed stilted at first, the families seeming to begrudge the bride and groom wanting to tie the knot. Once the new Mr. and Mrs. Diaz said their vows and guests moseyed to the reception, it became livelier indeed. Lively enough to the point of broken glasses, confetti bombs, cake smashed all over the floor, and the...uh... interpretive art form of dance that could be discovered with the loosening of too much to drink.

Just fine as long as we keep Nolan Diaz away from Charlotte Lane, Sean quipped.

He wasn’t wrong. The mother of the bride and the father of the groom could hardly smile during pictures with the combined families posing.

Ruby barked a laugh, acknowledging another guest down the bar as she tipped her head in thanks for returning a glass. And as long as we keep Father Asher from the booze here. She tapped a finger on the wood with a knowing smirk. Oh, and that young groomsman’s cut off too. Scoffing a laugh, she narrowed her eyes at Sean. Twenty-one? I doubt that!

I scanned the room full of people getting jiggy and mingling beneath the chandeliers. Green Day blared now, proving the partiers were having the time of their lives and hopefully concluding the night. Ruby was right. The party was almost over, just in time for everyone to head home with the fading deluge outside. Thunder still rumbled in the distance. I couldn’t swear I’d heard it, not with the loud music from the DJ, but the flashes of lightning attested to the storm finally easing. Unless those were just reflections from the strobe lights.

No, our biggest worry is keeping those two women away from the cake table, I added to our complaints. Both were tipsy, and I counted three times now that they’d nearly crashed into the table with the towering dessert.

Oh, and Mr. Lane said he was worried someone was trying to nab some of the cards off the gift table, Sean said, rubbing at his temple. "I know we’re on shaky grounds money-wise, but as soon as we can, we have got to consider hiring some part-timers for security."

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, Ruby said, a trace of worry lacing her tone now. I know. If we have a couple of months of good business, we should be in better standing. How I never noticed Brandon was driving this place into a hole of neglect...

I patted her hand. We’ll turn this place around.

Still, she pursed her lips. He was the worst manager ever, but I’ve got confidence in you two. Her brows shot up. Uh-oh. Someone knocked into the tree by the altar.

Sean and I spun around to see the church director right it before the pot fell over.

When will this end? I winced.

Regardless of the party almost being over, it was still on at the moment. I dismissed our complaining and focused.

Were Nolan and Charlotte still causing trouble? Let’s see. They’d begun with glares at the ceremony, tolerated each other’s presence during pictures with stiff poses, but once the dinner had started? They’d loosened up—or so I thought. Keeping the peace of guests was proving harder than it seemed, though.

Where is Mrs. Lane? I asked, peering at the crowd.

I don’t know, but I saw Nolan arguing with Mr. Lane ten minutes ago near the bathrooms. Sean smacked his thigh. Shoot. Did you get a chance to make sure that bucket was in place for the leak in the girls’ room? One of the Hahn sisters said it was slippery.

Probably the homewrecker, Ruby taunted. Because the other one’s been glued to her table almost all night.

I nodded, heading out to make a round through the spacious room again. It wasn’t so much the people I needed to herd and worry about. As Ruby explained at my hiring, I was needed to ensure no guests harm anything at Baycourt. As old and, well, crumbling as it could be, that was no easy feat. Old stone walls, ornately sculpted fountains and columns, and tropical potted plants. Original glass, antique sconces, and lampshades dripping with crystals. Baycourt had always been here to host all manner of parties—I recalled coming here as a young girl for birthday parties decades ago. There wasn’t a soul in Orson who hadn’t attended one melee or another here. As a stalwart grounds for partying, its age showed—

Buzzz.

Like the outdated electricity, for instance. With that zapping snap, the lights went out near the foyer. People gasped momentarily over the power cutting, but at least it wasn’t a full outage. Lights flashed and streaked almost in sync to the fast beat of Oh What a Night now.

Mrs. Diaz! Sean started at the sight of the new bride trying to climb atop the bigger water feature near the foyer, dancing and giggling. Her groom clambered up as well. Oh, boy.

I blinked, watching the drunk bride as she nearly fell in. Sean caught my wrist. I’ll play lifeguard. Can you check the front? I’m sure there’s enough light out there from in here for people to see their way out, but everyone will be leaving soon.

Sure. I’ll light some of the sconces if need be. What a sweetheart he was, leaving me the easier task.

Hurrying toward the vestibule, I patrolled, checking that guests were mostly behaving on their way to the exit. Other than the couple making out near that tall vase that Sean had confided in me that he wouldn’t miss, I didn’t detect anything dangerous going on. So long as they didn’t knock that behemoth over