Caught on Camera

Chapter 14, Scene 2, Part 26

Scene 2

Asta, Halden and the groomsmen swarmed Tiffany, shoving Rachel aside. She placed her bouquet carefully on the low sweep of granite beside a flower pot and hurried to help.

"Call a doctor," Garth thundered. He squatted to gather the fallen angel in his arms.

"Don't move her," Wendy had the presence of mind to yell. She pushed her way through the people crowding the unconscious bridesmaid. "Possible head injury. Stand back. I'm trained in first aid." Her authoritative tone inspired confidence.

Because the extent of Rachel's medical knowledge involved treating bug bites and blisters, she left the field to Wendy. Candy wailed like a wild thing, adding to the pandemonium. Halden corralled his new wife, escorting her away from the scene to the shade of an umbrella. A male uniformed security guard burst from the thicket of trees on the run. Abandoning Candy, Halden intercepted him. The two men barked into their phones, waving to catch the attention of the man at the helm of the patrol boat speeding to shore.

Rachel noticed Derek's lanky figure quit the drinks cart and make a beeline for the hotel while speaking into his mobile phone. She kicked off her pumps and flew across the grass in her bare feet after him.

When within reach, she grabbed his shirt. "Derek," she panted. "Is that the GM?"

"Yeah. I asked him whether I should call 911. He said he'd do it."

"I'm pretty sure Halden's security team has that covered." She appropriated Derek's phone, identified herself, and flinched at the loud, agitated squawk that emanated from the speaker. "A bridesmaid fainted, yes. Tiffany York. Sir, can you check with Registration to find out if one of the guests is a physician?" Candy's piercing screech made her wince. "Or a psychologist? Ms. Kane's having a meltdown." She shook her head. "Or rather, I mean the new Mrs. Armstrong."

The oppressive heat, Mopette's excited yapping and the bride's shrieks made it difficult to think. "What's that noise you hear?" She squinted at the source but at that distance Candy merely appeared to be a whirling white blur under the trees. "No idea, sir."

Derek snatched the phone to give the GM a play by play. "The bride is hitting that skinny photographer with her bouquet. Flowers are flying everywhere. No sir. She's flailing the guest photographer, not the hired guy. He tried to take pictures of her throwing a fit. Could be he's injured too. Rose thorns and whatnot." He listened for a second, eagerly watching the action. "Yes sir, the bride beat on the guest. But it's stopped. The groom pinned the bride's arms and the hired security manhandled the photographer a safe distance away."

Derek listened to the agitated voice for a few more seconds, then signed off. He flashed her a huge grin. She guessed the photo shoot disaster made a welcome change from the tedium of serving drinks.

Drawing his shoulders back importantly, he relayed, "The GM wants you and me to stay at the scene to coordinate the hotel staff response. He'll be on his way after he alerts Juanita at Reception and gives instructions to the doorman for the paramedics. He's gonna try to fend off the police, but hey, don't they have to show up on 911 calls?" With a brief nod and a "you look totally hot in that frou-frou dress, Rachel", he reversed direction and sprinted back to his station at The Rockery.

Rachel padded slowly after him. When she reached the concrete outlook, Mopette trotted up, the leash dragging in the dirt, the lavender satin bow between her ears askew, her little pink tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. She yipped a happy greeting. At least Candy's dog was having a good time.