Grace arrived at the reception hall and took a few moments to let the excitement of her morning abate and refresh her thoughts on the wedding. There was still time for Mickey's education. The ditzy daughter and her husband had been sorted out along with mother's dress and the wedding cake. Good. Giles and Melrose were more than worth the exorbitant prices they charged.

She strode across the room, eyeing all the preparations, pausing to adjust a flower vase and straighten some cutlery. Through the double doors into the lounge area where guests would assemble for drinks and coffee prior to the reception meal.

She ticked off the various items from her mental list, nodding with approval; at least somebody was capable of doing their job correctly.

"Miss Purcell! Oh thank goodness you're here." The little man scurried across the room and stopped short in front of her, arms flapping and a face torn from the portrait of The Scream.

"Paul, whatever is the matter?"

"Oh Miss Purcell. It's a disaster." His frame began to fold as he sagged in front of her.

"Paul, for heaven's sake straighten up and fly right will you. What's wrong?"

"The maid of honour tripped while putting on her dress and broke her arm!"

Grace stared at the man, a rolling thunder building inside her chest and her voice ominously calm. "Where was this exactly?"

"At the Grandcastle house. That's where they're all getting ready together."

She checked her watch, three hours until kick off. "Thank you, Paul. I'll take care of things."

"What can you do? What can anyone do? It's all-"

"Shut up, Paul, and just do your job." Her eyes drilled smoking holes into his and the little man seemed to dissolve on the spot.

******

Grace's car stuttered to a screeching halt on the drive in front of the Grandcastle mansion. She climbed out clutching her purse and slammed the door. The bell rang insistently as she jammed her thumb against the button and when the door opened she barged straight in without acknowledging the surprised face of the maid.

The marble entry featured gilt side chairs and urns filled with large artificial flowers and a curving staircase that led to the second floor, which Grace was taking two steps at a time, her skirt snapping tautly against her legs.

The door to the large bedroom was open and a crowd of people were all gathered about the massive canopied bed when she stormed in demanding attention.

"Oh Miss Purcell, we've had a tragedy." Mrs. Grandcastle turned, one hand on her breast the other hanging in the air. "Gloria has broken her arm and has to get a cast put on. It's all so-"

"So goddamn stupid, that's what it is!" Grace shouted, glaring at the group. "Two and a half hours to the social event of the season and that silly bitch falls and breaks her arm!"

"Miss Purcell!" The bride came forward, hands on hips. "I think you need to remember your place."

Grace blinked and looked at the heavily made up face of the bride to be. Her hair professionally coiffed, the champagne coloured gown costing thousands and jewels worth more than some small countries.

An image of Tabor, Lester, Mickey, the cake, the dress, and the broken arm crowded her mind. The fist hit the middle of the smug face with a wet smack and a fountain of blood poured down the gown as the bride reeled back into the fumbling arms of her bridesmaids.

Screams, cries, shouts and a general melee ensued as Grace turned and stomped back out of the room, the house and the property, tires shredding on the pavement.

**********

"You didn't! Are you crazy, Grace? What about your business, your reputation?" Lester couldn't believe what he had just been told. "Jesus, you really clocked the bride?"

"Do you know how much time and effort I put into that- that circus? Those people . . ." She stuttered, unable to find the words. "I should have capped the lot."

"Jesus, Grace, you have to calm down." He'd never seen her loose her composure and he began to worry. He wasn't sure why she had come to him either. She suddenly looked so forlorn sitting across from him. Lester had to swallow a lump.

Her figure slumped, her face drawn and grey. He wrestled himself out of chair and went to the cupboard next to his desk and pulled out a bottle and two glasses.

"Here, drink this and take a breath."

"Oh, Lester, I've really screwed myself this time haven't I?"

"Well you sure haven't-"

She took both glasses and downed the drinks in desperate urgency.

"One of those was mine." He said automatically.

"Sorry. Here, get yourself another."

"Thanks." He waddled back to the cupboard and filled his glass, gripping it tighter as he came back to her.

"I think you need to make some kind of apology to your clients."

"Right, like that will solve everything. I can see the social page now. Wedding planner breaks the nose of bride to be over maid of honour's broken arm. Christ, Lester, the wedding party is going to look like refugees from a field hospital."

He gulped his drink. "You think it'll still go on?"

"Everything is set. Invites. The church. The hall. Gifts friggin' galore and all the food. Old man Grandcastle would have to declare bankruptcy if he cancelled all that now."

"What about you?"

Her laugh was cruel and sharp. "Me! I'll be lucky not to be sued for whole thing."

Lester looked into his glass and shook his head. "Grace what the hell ever possessed you to−"

"Tabor told me that Mickey spoke to Earl first about his debt."

Lester waved a hand. "Sure but−" There it was. She was after Mickey.

"And you told Mickey about me."

"No! No way, Grace. He found out . . ."

Lester stopped, mouth open and his eyes blinking furiously. He trembled as she handed him her glass and stood straightening her skirt.

"He heard me on the phone . . ."

"He found out that's all that matters now. I told you what would happen Lester."

"Wait. Wait a minute Grace, let me explain." Lester set the glasses down and reached for her arms. The body language said clearly that if he touched her he would go the way of his humidor.

"I need to go. I don't want to sound mercenary but I want my fee for Tabor?"

Lester nodded eagerly and hurried to his desk digging out an envelope and passing it to her.

"We won't be doing any future business, Lester" She said, putting the envelope in her purse.

"Shit, Grace. You just ruined my entire day. What do I do now for an enforcer?" He watched her leave and realized that rather than worrying about an enforcer he needed to think about facing his sister after Grace found Mickey.

******

"Got your message, Mr. Nevens. How can I help you." Holt tossed his pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling of the precinct office.

"Another car followed me home after we left you."

The silence made Parker start to fume again and he was bout to shout down the line.

"Did you get a description of any kind? Car? Driver?"

"The car was black. Four doors, I don't know the make. Probably Japanese. The driver had short hair and was white. That's it. I don't mind telling you, Detective, I'm scared half to death."

"I don't think you need to be concerned, Mr. Nevens. We did catch the other-"

"Excuse me. You didn't catch him, okay. Somebody else killed him and it's entirely possible that same person could be after me."

"Yes, well-"

"This is the second time, Detective. Tell me, what happens if I get scared half to death twice?"

Holt drew a blank and then started to laugh. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nevens. That just sounded . . . funny."

"Glad you enjoyed it. But it doesn't answer the question."

"Look, I'll see what I can do about your description. Maybe some street cam picked up the car. We'll see what we can do, okay?"

Parker sighed and bit back another sarcasm. "Yeah, sure." He hung up.

Holt welcomed the excuse to call Desdemona again and when she answered he tried to sound as upbeat and positive as possible.

"Parker already called and hung up in a huff."

"Why?"

"I always seem to think he's doing a routine on me; it's my first reaction.

He chuckled. "I can see that."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Listen, I'm going to see what I can find out from the little description he gave me. I don't think there's any danger but just in case uh- keep my number handy, okay?"

"Thanks, Detective."

"Leo- or Holt is fine."

Des chewed her lip. "Thanks again. I'll call if I need to."

"Yeah, okay. Bye." He hung up and sighed.