Pain in the Neck: Mercy Mares Mystery, #10

By Ava Mallory

This wedding is a complete disaster. 

 

Mercy is moments from marrying the love of her life. Now if only, she could keep the louder half of the other couple marrying today under control, this wedding may go off without a hitch. If not, she's vowed to chuck it all and spend the rest of her life as a spinster.

 

Nubbin didn't think he'd ever get married again, but his bride-to-be wouldn't stand for any more excuses. The time is now, even if that means he has to wear an itchy suit and deal with the nonstop chatter from the tailor. Before the nuptials kick off, the tailor is dead, Nubbin is accused, and Mercy has yet another mystery to solve, and fast.

Scroll up to buy your copy and see if the double wedding of the century becomes a reality!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ava Mallory
• Release date: Jul 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223851271

Ava Mallory

Ava Mallory is brilliant, worldly and multi-talented - in her dreams. In reality, she spends her days catering to the often nonsensical, utterly impossible, never-ending needs of four children between the ages of 24 and 10.  When she completes every task on their "Mom, can-you-do" list, she sneaks off into her home office - most often without sleep, but always with coffee & chocolate in hand - and writes until her brain and her body finally give way or one of the many streaming television programs she's addicted to returns with new episodes. Either way, words make it on the page and her fans will not stage a revolt.  Currently, Ava is hard at work on future Mercy Mares novels and developing two new Cozy Mystery series'. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

D ead. Done. Gone. Good riddance, if you ask me, Nubbin Schmeckpepper never met an insult he couldn’t use in his daily barrage of venom-laced insults to be doled out on his terms and only his terms.

Now that’s no way to talk to the fine gentleman, Charlie said.

He’s the handsome man I planned to marry in two hours, provided we could avoid an all-out war between the aforementioned Nubbin and an increasingly irritated tailor, Guido Taleoni. The two had spent the better part of the morning bickering about everything from the color of Nubbin’s suit to the color of the sky. No topic was safe to discuss.

Even though I’d been escorted away from Nubbin’s side of the room more times than I could count, I had to intervene before they lifted their canes in each other’s face again. This was not the time nor the place for a geriatric battle. There would be no winner, except for maybe the lawyers we’d have to hire to keep his rotund behind out of jail. At least, until after the wedding, I hoped.

Tell him to quit touching my leg and I might let him live to see another sunshine, Nubbin warned. I don’t know why I have to wear this silly get-up anyway. Who cares what you wear when you sign over your soul? All that matters is I say I do and sign my name on the dotted line. I can wear what I want.

Stop it! I yelled as Guido’s son, Freddy, a wannabe Mafioso, and his entourage entered my side of the room, all slicked back hair, cheap cologne, and attitude.

Is there a problem here? he asked in what had to be the worst Marlon Brando voice I’d ever heard.

Ruby ushered them toward the door. You can’t come in here.

I groaned, Do you want a problem? We have plenty of them to give away. Pick your poison.

Charlie interjected, The boys had a spat. Nothing to see here. He patted Nubbin’s back.

A flustered woman with long, flowing, jet black hair and days’ worth of makeup on her face walked into the room, followed by a half dozen mini-hers, all dressed for a night out at the club. The strip club, that is.

Who invited the clowns? I asked.

Shh! That’s Guido’s wife and family. She flashed a smile at them. You all look so cute.

Her words provided enough distraction to send them to hunt for an empty mirror to admire their reflections.

How many more strangers plan to show up unannounced? Since we’d arrived, I’d noticed at least one hundred people I’d never met before in my life. From what I could tell, no one else knew who they were either.

Hush now. You should be glad people are here to help you celebrate, Ruby scolded me. It’s not often a woman your age gets married.

I shot the glare of death at her. Speak for yourself. I’m not old.

We weren’t the only ones with something to say. Outside in the hallway, a clamor of loud voices caught our attention.

Now what? I mumbled.

Keeping Margie out of the room was a chore I wasn’t prepared to handle because I was ankle deep in hair extensions and makeup shellacking that promised to make me look twenty years younger. So far, no such luck. Half of my hair lay flat on my head and the other half stood straight up like I’d recently become acquainted with an electrical outlet.

Can someone fix my hot mess before a bird makes it its new home? I asked, pointing to the rat’s nest on the side of my head. It was all curls and tangles, topped off with a new contraption designed to work its magic while I relaxed.

Yeah, again, no such luck. Who relaxes on their wedding day? Not me.

Miss ma’am, my stylist, Gladys, whispered. I cringed each time she put those two words together.

What did her made-up word even mean? You were either one or the other, not both.

My soon-to-be ex-best friend Ruby told me to smile and not say a word about it. But that wasn’t the worst part of my ordeal. The worst part came when I found out she paid them three-thousand dollars to turn me into the bride of Frankenstein.

You can’t move until we’re done. You’ll ruin... everything, Gladys said.

I can and I will. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a crisis? I said, pointing to my cane-wielding friend and the red-faced tailor. They’ll kill each other if I don’t get out of this chair.

Knock. Knock. One of the florist’s assistants buzzed through the room, carrying a large pot of orchids. Do you want these for your wedding photos?

I scowled at him. Why would you think it appropriate to interrupt us right now? I’d grown tired of the chaos. Too many people had unlimited access to the wedding party and I’d had enough.

Let him be. He’s here to help, Charlie said.

As if someone had offered to pay them to bother us, a whole team of floral assistants, the caterer, and her crew stormed in with their lists of demands.

Why does this feel like a hostage situation? I asked.

Nubbin mumbled, It’s only the beginning. You better get used to it. Everything goes downhill after this.

I bit my tongue before I said something awful.

Gladys plastered a tight grin on her face and tried again, but I was on to her games. By golly, I invented those games. Kill them with kindness while you stick a needle in their arm. She can’t fool me. Not today. I swore I’d get through this day without a hassle and if I had to poke someone’s eye out to make that happen, then, so be it.

Nubbin Schmeckpepper, you listen and listen good. Give me the cane and let the man finish or I’ll invite Margie in and there will be...

He finished my sentence for me. I know. I know. She’ll have my head. She already told me, Camaro. You don’t have to remind me.

Don’t try to butter me up with nicknames. I’m already well past my limit of patience. I’m about to round the corner to rage if you don’t settle down and let us get on with this catastrophe, I said, forgetting Charlie hadn’t yet left the room. Sorry. I didn’t mean it.

He chuckled. Yes, you did, and it’s fine. He pointed to my hair. No offense, but are you sure that’s how you want to look for our photos?

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My throat filled with emotion as I took in the horrifying sight. I can’t get married like this. I look like a monster. We have to reschedule this circus.

Some people got cold feet. I somehow managed to get cold everything. I needed a minute, or a month, to think things through... again.

Oh, you’re so doing this, Ruby threatened. I didn’t go on the cabbage soup diet for nothing. The dress fits, my feet are wrapped like sausages in these hideous shoes you made me wear, and I’ve had it up to here with your dilly-dallying. You’ll marry that oh-so-patient man if it’s the last thing you do, and it just might be if you keep it up.

Whoa, Hank, Ruby’s handsome and nerdy psychologist husband, said as he entered the room with his eyes closed. What’s with all the yelling?

Nubbin snapped, It’s those knuckleheads. They’re always fussing about something or other. I tell you, if we didn’t need females, I’d have no use for them in my life ever again.

Watch yourself, Schmeckpepper, Margie yelled from her dressing room. I may be old, but I’m not deaf. What’s going on over there?

I needed a break. Preferably, a long break on a deserted island far, far away from Lake Villa, the town I called home. I have to go.

Ruby stood in front of me, her nostrils flaring. You’ll do no such thing. Go back to your seat and let the girls work their magic. Nubbin chuckled behind her, but that didn’t stop her from scolding him too. Listen here, Mr. Nubbin, you’ll do what this fine gentleman tells you to do, or I’ll find my bag of needles and poke you in places you’ve never been poked before. Do you understand me, mister?

He opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself before the Irish spitfire unleashed more threats.

That’s what I thought, she said with a satisfied grin. She stormed out of the room, dragging me and ten yards of fabric behind her.

I told you it would have been so much easier to elope. The caterer makes me nuts. The florist and her team of nitwits mowed down several guests with their over-sized plants. And don’t even get me started on Guido’s family. I’m sure half of them hate me by now and the rest will learn to hate me soon enough. All they’ve done is roam. Why are they here anyway? They don’t have a function. If you ask me, the young one with the big eyes could use a whipping. I struggled to keep the top half of my dress in position and the bottom half off the ground.

Charlie rushed out of the room seconds later and covered his eyes when he realized I’d slipped into my dress. Why didn’t you tell me you got dressed? I thought you were in a robe. It’s bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the ceremony.

My whole life has been bad luck, I said. What do you want? Who killed who now?

Ruby clicked her tongue at me. It’s your wedding day. Don’t say things like that.

She was right. Why was I so cranky?

It might have something to do with how my quaint ceremony had transformed into something equivalent to the Met Gala and I didn’t have a say in any of it. Or it could have something to do with all the bad attitudes. The kooky caterers were upset because I made one tiny request. I mean, would it kill them to wear shoes?

Sorry. What is it? I stuck my tongue out at Ruby because the only other potential witness to my immaturity would be a man who had his eyes covered, and that made me feel better.

I don’t want to stir the pot any more than it already has been, but Fiona said she had a problem, Charlie said.

The florist? Ruby rolled her eyes.

I gathered my ultra-long train and ran.

Wait. What’s the plan? Ruby asked as she rushed to catch up with me.

To kill a florist, I said.

No one is allowed to die on my wedding day, Margie shouted from her room. Got that?

You need to dream bigger. That proverbial ship has sailed. Someone must be sacrificed for the greater good.

Charlie donned a look of utter defeat on his face.

The speed at which my feet moved surprised me. I whisked past gawking guests and vendors. One man, in particular, watched with amusement, his blue eyes wide as my dress caught under my feet.

Mind your business, I hissed. Why are there a bunch of strangers at my wedding?

He chuckled.

Dark hair, light eyes, cocky disposition. I committed his face to memory, so I could complain about him later.

Who does he think he is? It’s my day. I’m allowed to leave. Why does he care?

He called out to me. Your other half is on his way, and he doesn’t look happy. Never cross a man who has access to weapons. That’s how you get hurt.

I KNOW MY BEHAVIOR wasn’t exactly on par with women of a certain age, especially those who were about to marry the man of their dreams. In my case, the second man of my dreams. This relationship was different, of course. When I married James, my first husband, I married for love and a need to belong. We were young. Long story short, our marriage came to an end. We’re still good friends. Long story, but I digress...

The point is, I want to marry Charlie, but not like this. My stress levels were off the Richter scale. That is if there was a Richter scale for the probability of women in their mid-forties who did everything, they could to test unsuspecting men who loved them.

Mercedes!

The only person in the world who dared call me by my given name better not have followed me. Not today.

Stop!

I spun to face him. The long train wrapped around my ankles and squeezed me like a bottle of mustard.

Whoa! Charlie caught me before my face hit the concrete. Why are you still out here?

I had two choices: admit I was in no position to marry him or make my crazy outburst his fault.

I chose the latter. It’s all your fault, you know.

He’d spent far too much time with me because he didn’t so much as flinch. Always the peacemaker, he accepted blame and offered a solution - just not the one I had anticipated. Don’t worry about your hair. I always wanted to marry a girl with puffy hair.

My hands flew to my curls. What? I don’t have puffy... I let my words trail off because I didn’t have a valid argument. My hair sat about six inches on top of my head. I must have looked like a circus act to him.

Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. I’m not marrying you for your hair, he said.

I’m a mess. I have a short fuse. I can’t go anywhere without running into trouble. I just threw a hissy fit on our wedding day. If I were you, I’d run as fast as I could from me. Tears spilled from my eyes as he moved closer. Why aren’t you running?

He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me. You kill me, sweetheart.

It’s not like I hadn’t considered that option, but in my defense, I was under extreme duress.

I responded like any self-respecting woman would, I’m glad you think this is funny. You won’t think it’s so funny when I jump in my car and disappear on you.

He wiped the smile from his face. What? Our friends and family came to celebrate our big day. When I didn’t respond, he added, Your granddaughter came all the way from New York for this.

Ouch! Hit me where it hurts, why don’t you?

You play dirty, I said.

He kissed the top of my head. I play for keeps. Now can we go inside and express our love to the world? Nothing but good times ahead for us, I promise.

A blood-curdling scream interrupted our moment.

Who is that? I asked.

Charlie released his grip on me. Stay here.

What? Why?

He ran at full speed in the direction of the church.

Chapter 2

Ihadn’t planned to yell like a Banshee, but when faced with a dead man belly up in the middle of the room I’d just exited, what other choice did I have? Does this look like good times to you? What in the world happened? My nurse’s instincts kicked in, but they didn’t give me the answers I wanted. No pulse. No heartbeat. Oh, and let’s not forget, the pair of shears sticking out of his chest. Call 911!

Ruby’s hands shook as she spoke. We are 911.

For crying out loud, you know what to do. You’re the one who trained me, remember? I pulled the phone out of Charlie’s back pocket.

Whoa! What in the world? he asked, pulling away from me.

We need an ambulance, I said. When the operator answered, I explained the situation and followed their commands as if my life depended on it.

Nubbin stepped out of his dressing room in usual cranky fashion. What’s all the hollering about now? I’m trying to catch a few zzz’s before I sign my life away.

Ruby held out a hand. I’ll deal with him. You stay with him. She pointed to Guido. I can’t believe this. How did this happen?

No one answered.

Charlie cleared the area and cordoned it off with leftover ribbon from the reception hall. There, let’s have everyone step away and let the professionals handle this.

I did my best to bite my tongue, but I’d exhausted my limited supply long before this nightmare. On top of a headache, I had smeared makeup, sore feet, and now a corpse. What a way to begin my happily-ever-after.

Gio, my son-in-law, flew up the stairs three at a time and stopped just short of smashing Guido’s head. Is this the tailor? What happened to him?

Did everyone leave their brain cells at home?

He’s dead, I answered. In case you didn’t notice, he has a giant pair of scissors in his chest.

I know, but how? he asked.

Charlie had a reputation for being cool under pressure, but nerves got the best of him in this situation. "I have no idea.