After the Wedding: A Lloyd and Lori Mystery

By Reva Spiro Luxenberg

The wedding that takes place in the ballroom of the 5-star Palm Tree Hotel in Key West is upended when Flora, the bride, is murdered in the bridal suite. The groom, Mark Morris, a physical therapist, is arrested by the sheriff. Meanwhile, Lloyd, the bartender, and Lori, his wife and concierge, set out to clear Mark, who is in deeper trouble than he’s ever known. Lloyd and Lori suspect that the killer may be one of the people who visited Flora after the wedding—maybe the stepmother, or one or both of her twin sisters, or her first cousin, or, possibly, the chambermaid. Mark is prosecuted in a lengthy courtroom trial for the murder of his wife. Lloyd and Lori race against time to identify the killer before the jury would render a guilty decision for a crime the defendant didn’t commit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796088229

Reva Spiro Luxenberg

REVA SPIRO LUXENBERG embarked on a writing career after she retired as a school social worker. She has written nineteen books—mysteries, dramas, non-fiction books, anthologies, and humorous versions of two of the books of the Bible. She is married to Dr. Edward R. Levenson, who has edited eight of her books. She is a member of Florida Authors & Publishers Association. Her hobbies are reading, painting rocks, and taking care of her puppy Sekhel and her tortoise Mordy. She is a proud grandmother of seven and great-grandmother of six and one on the way.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

After the last guest had departed, Flora went to sleep in the bridal suite. Mark, medium-sized, muscular, and slightly inebriated, reeled to the bar on the main floor of the 5-star Palm Tree Hotel in Key West. With a simpering sound Mark ordered a champagne cocktail as he slowly eased himself onto the stool.

Sorry sir, the bar is closed for the night, Lloyd said, as he wiped a glass and put it away.

I need a drink—only one drink and I’ll be gone.

Just one, Lloyd said as he looked at the disheveled groom who was wearing the hotel’s white terry robe. Lloyd dropped one sugar cube into a chilled champagne flute that he laced with two dashes of Angostura bitters. With the dexterity of a juggler he added champagne almost to the top. For the grand finale he garnished it with a lemon twist. After nudging it across the bar, he placed a small red folded napkin beside it. He was surprised when the sad-looking groom lifted the flute to his lips and took only a small sip. It appeared that the young man was pining for conversation so Lloyd walked around the bar and sat down next to him recognizing that alcohol and talk blended well.

How does it feel to be married? Lloyd asked.

I don’t know yet. As soon as the orchestra stopped playing, she went to bed. Are you a married man?

Lloyd detected an accent that sounded British, but wasn’t. The man pronounced a strong r and he had an inflection at the end of a sentence like a question. He couldn’t place it and answered, I’ve been married to a great gal for three years.

Mark took another sip of his drink. Flora is terrific. I’m a physical therapist and I met her when her doctor recommended me. I started treating her in her home and it didn’t take long before we started dating.

Why did she need therapy? Lloyd asked.

When she was a teenager, she rode a wild horse she unwisely chose in her parents’ stable. The horse bucked. She fell off and hurt her back and her leg. Dancing at our wedding was hard on her.

Suddenly the lights dimmed in the hotel lobby. The only other person there was the male receptionist at the desk. Lloyd looked out the window at the pool. The fountain, that would soon be shut off, was sending up bursts of colored water in the center. No one was swimming.

I gotta go. Thanks for talking to me, Mark said, as he quickly downed the rest of his drink and slipped off the stool.

Lloyd, a trim good-looking 6’2, watched Mark weave his way to the banks of elevators. He put up the BAR CLOSED sign, left the hotel, and walked around the corner to his small bungalow with the big mortgage and the Ikea furnishings. Lori, just two inches shorter than her husband, was in the study working on her book of poems. Hi, honey, she said, as she turned off her laptop. How did it go today?"

Lloyd bent down and planted a kiss on his wife’s lips. It’s been a long day. This morning I finished Chapter Ten in the novel, was the barkeep at the wedding, and just as I was about to close the bar in the lobby, the groom came down for a drink and some small talk.

You enjoy talking to people, don’t you? Lori said.

You bet, and being a bartender makes it easy. Lloyd held out a small paper bag. Here’s a present, my sweet.

Lori’s pretty face lit up. Can I can guess what it is?

Go ahead. It’s something that symbolizes your innocence and purity.

Lori watched as Lloyd, for comfort’s sake, removed his red bowtie, and took off his matching satin vest. She shook the small bag and held it up to her ear. There’s no sound, she said. It’s very light. Is it a white chiffon scarf?

No.

Are they handkerchiefs for every day of the week?

Wrong. No more guesses. Open the bag.

Wow, Lori said with a smile that revealed a dimple in her cheek. It’s a bouquet of daisies. Thanks.

Lloyd sat down on a desk chair and pulled Lori onto his lap. She snuggled up to him. Daisies are simple and yet sophisticated, just like you, he said. At night they sleep like babies and open their eyes at dawn to grace the day with their beauty. They’re not only lovely but they have another role. You may pick off the white petals and use them as an ingredient in one of your delicious salads.

Lori’s sparkling dark eyes widened. Did you remember to buy cherry tomatoes and butter lettuce?

Lloyd smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Oh, no, sweetheart. Sorry, I forgot.

I thought you might have forgotten so I stopped after work and bought some.

I can always count on you when I forget something. By the way, how do you like your new job as concierge?

Lori smiled. Thanks for getting me the job. I like where the desk in the lobby of the Palm Tree Hotel is placed, since it lets me see all the guests. The TV on top attracts people to stop and watch various scenes like the dolphin watch and the sunset sails. I think the film clips result in more inquiries about the tours and activities.

Great! Then it works like a charm.

I also met some interesting people. Today, Flora Branson Morris, the bride who limps, came over and booked the glass bottom boat for herself and her groom for next Tuesday.

What was your impression of her?

I don’t know. She looks so young—like she’s no more than sixteen.

Lloyd stepped into the kitchen and started pulling the petals off the daisies. Lori watched him with interest as he washed them and put them in a glass bowl for keeping them fresh in the refrigerator. You know, he said, some of the wedding party have remained as guests. There’s a distinct possibility that they’ll stop off and book some expensive tours like the ferry or seaplane to the Dry Tortugas National Park. With the commissions you’ll make we’ll be able to afford a brake job for our car.

It needs it. The brakes have become squishy. Lori yawned. Let’s go to sleep, she said, as she wiped her eyes.

CHAPTER 2

Flora, I’m back, Mark called when he entered the living area of the bridal suite. He listened for an answer and when he heard nothing he stepped into the bedroom. Flora was stretched out on her back on the king-sized bed. Her eyes were closed. She had not only thrown up, but had soiled her white satin robe.

Mark shivered as he bent over her and felt for a pulse. When he couldn’t find one, he screamed, Oh my God! No!

Flora’s twin sisters, Cornelia and Debbie, asleep in the next room, were awakened by the scream. They raced into the bridal suite, found Mark on his knees sobbing, and saw their younger sister’s robe covered in vomit and feces. At the same instant that both of them opened their mouths, they squeezed their nostrils together as the smell was overpowering.

I can’t believe she’s dead, Mark cried as he threw his hands up.

You killed her, Cornelia yelled.

You murderer, Debbie added.

You’re nuts! Mark shouted as tears rolled down his pale cheeks. Either Flora died from natural causes or else she committed suicide. I’m calling 911.

Mark’s hands trembled as he spoke to the woman call taker. My wife is dead, he said as he sobbed.

The call taker who had been on the job for twenty years spoke in a soothing voice.

Sir, how do you know she’s dead?

I, I took her pulse. She has no pulse. We just got married, my poor Flora. I want to die myself.

Can you give her CPR?

No, no. She’s vomited all over herself.

She may have a very light pulse. She may still be alive. Please take a big breath. Try to calm yourself. Help will be there in a few minutes.

Cornelia pointed a finger at him. I don’t know how, but you murdered her.

Mark’s body shook as he answered her, You’re nuts.

They heard the ambulance siren a few minutes later. The emergency medical technicians ran into the room just as two police officers arrived. One of the cops took one look at the body and raced into the bathroom to vomit. The other officer stepped out to the hotel lobby, and called for the sheriff.

When Sheriff George Spence arrived, he spoke to one EMT who confirmed that the woman was dead. The detective sent for the Crime Scene Investigation team known as the CSI.

Sally Jordan, the female member of CSI, secured the area. Covering her face with a mask, she walked through the suite to get an overall feel of the crime scene. Has anyone moved anything? she asked.

Not to my knowledge. Sheriff Spence answered.

Sally pulled a small notebook from the pocket of her jacket and began taking notes. She made sure not to touch anything.

At the second walkthrough the photographer took pictures. When he was finished, he draped his camera over his neck, took out a pad and pencil, and drew some sketches. Sally asked him to include a video—which he did. After the preliminaries were finished, Sally began to collect objects. Carefully she picked up two ceramic bowls on the coffee table, and she removed the wedding gown hanging in the closet. She tagged them, logged them in, and packaged them. All had to remain intact on its way to the lab. She took samples of the body fluids. Her job was only crime scene investigation. The laboratory was responsible for the forensic science. Sally worked only in the field, but if it would be concluded that this had been a murder she would testify in court about the evidence collected. She would enumerate the methods she had used to recover the evidence that would end up as the prosecution’s exhibits.

Sally was aware that the prime considerations in a crime scene investigation are the legality of the search, the undisputable documentation of the crime scene, and the untainted preservation of the evidence. Though she wasn’t an expert on poisons, she suspected that the young woman had been poisoned.

The sheriff went to the courthouse and obtained a search warrant from the sitting judge. Now he could question the possible suspects, the husband, relatives, friends, and anyone who had had access to the bridal suite.

An officer had attached a yellow tape that read CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS to the door of the bridal suite. The appearance of the tape created havoc in the hotel. Guests who were booked for a week checked out. The wedding guests were questioned, some of them were sent home, and others were ordered to remain in the hotel until further notice.

CHAPTER 3

In the early morning, Lloyd took a break from writing. He sat at the dining room table reading the Key West Daily that Lori had brought in from the porch. The front page was filled with columns about Flora’s murder. He poured over the printed words about the shock that numbed the free-spirited population about the unfathomable murder of a young bride. Key West, no more than one and a quarter miles wide and four miles long, wasn’t prone to local murders with the exception of one in 2017. Lloyd looked up to see Lori working at her laptop. Can you bear hearing the terrible news? he asked.

Lori exclaimed, What is it?

The bride was murdered. They think she was poisoned.

Oh, my God! Lori’s face paled.

Days later the main result of the autopsy was published in the Key West Daily. At the breakfast table Lloyd read the headline, "Bride Poisoned With Seeds of