by Bella Falls
My heart sank. “Oh, Azalea.”
Gloria crouched down and hugged the new bride’s shoulders. My friend looked up at me with eyes rimmed with red. “They’re keeping him sedated right now, so he’s not able to respond. It’s a waiting game until they can wake him up and make sure the surgery worked.”
A new round of crying echoed off the tiles in the bathroom. Gloria unrolled a large bunch of toilet paper and handed it to her distraught friend. I wiggled my fingers to receive some, snotting into the fluffy mass. After shared grief, Azalea groaned and drew in stuttering breaths, trying to pull herself together again.
“I have to say, I never thought I’d ever see the inside of a police station. Or county sheriff’s office. Wherever it was they took me.” She balled up the used tissue and tossed it into the toilet beneath her. “My wedding dress is now being kept as evidence. There’s blood on the fabric. I didn’t even notice it until they brought me to the station. I guess it was on my hands, and I wiped them on my dress, ruining it.”
“You know, I think Ms. Robin would make you a new replacement if you asked her,” I suggested, unsure if it was a good idea or an unkind one.
She stared at the floor. “I know everybody was thinking that I’m the one who stabbed him. At least, that’s how it felt last night as they were taking me away and not letting me go with Harrison in the ambulance.” Her tear-stained face lifted as she met my sympathetic gaze. “I’m all he has. His parents are gone, and he’s been on his own for such a long time. I’m his family, and they think that I would do something to ruin all that.”
Gloria petted Azalea’s head and spoke in a soothing tone. “They were doing their job, sweetie. You were the one to find him, so they had to ask you questions.”
Azalea shook her head. “But they kept asking me all these things, and I think they were trying to trip me up to see if my story would change. At least my parents did one thing right to support me by sending the family advocate to get me out of there as fast as possible.”
As much as I loathed her parents, they were smart to retain a lawyer trained in magical law as well. Although they could work within the mortal system of judgment, hopefully Azalea’s advocate would be prepared to help her should the entire situation cross over into the magical realm of justice.
“That’s at least one positive thing,” I agreed.
The bride snorted. “It doesn’t erase the rest of their behavior. And I meant it. I won’t be letting them come around us again.” Her eyes flitted between Gloria and me, and neither of us contradicted her. Words said in emotional moments shouldn’t be taken as final. But in the case of Azalea’s parents, I’m not sure I would try to talk her into making peace in the long run.
We sat in silence a few more minutes, and I dared to ask the question at the forefront of my thoughts. “You don’t think your parents had something to do with what happened?”
Gloria’s eyes widened. “They’re bad, but I don’t think they’re monsters like that, right Azalea?”
The new bride squirmed on the toilet seat. “I won’t lie, that thought occurred to me. But as angry as I am with them, I can’t imagine that they would threaten my own happiness by trying to have Harrison…” She didn’t need to complete the sentence with the word killed. We all felt the gravity of her meaning.
I replayed Azalea’s verbal sparring in the hallway. “What did you mean Harrison tried to pay your parents back?”
“Oh, that.” She used the handrail screwed into the wall to pull herself off the toilet, tossing the wet, crumpled paper from her tears and flushing it away. “It was a last-minute idea he had after I told him what my parents said at Spinner’s. It’s also why we ran into him at the Tiki Tavern the night before our wedding when you were helping me try to forget the awful conversation.”
It took me a few seconds to connect all the dots. “Harrison was getting money from the Tiki?” My voice rose in volume, and I tried to picture the fun-loving owner and my former boss giving our friend cash to pay off his soon-to-be in-laws. “Yeah, that’s something Roscoe would do.”
“But he’s on one of his fishing trips, so he can’t be reached. It’s why my father thinks Harrison might have stolen it.” She gripped the sides of the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “They choose to see the absolute worst in him when everyone who knows him sees the best. The amount of money he took was the amount he’s given Roscoe over time to buy a partnership into the business. He’s even been helping to research what it would take to franchise the bar.”
A genuine smile spread on my lips. “Roscoe’s always dreamed of that. And Harrison would be a perfect partner to help him achieve it and run things.” I scooted off the trash can and got close enough to rub her shoulder. “You chose a very good man, Azalea. And I know life might not be fair, but there’s no way Harrison doesn’t pull through. When he wants something, he goes after it. And he definitely will fight for you.”
Gloria joined me, standing on the other side of the bride and embracing her. “That’s right.”
Azalea fought back another onslaught of tears. She looked in the mirror. “Look at us. We’re an absolute mess.”
With laughter through the tears, we cleaned ourselves up. Together, we stood guard in Harrison’s room and waited for him to win his battle and wake up.
Chapter Seven
For the next couple of days, life moved on for everyone but Azalea and Harrison. Dad sent me out to inventory an estate for the family business. Although the house of the deceased hadn’t been that big, they had packed it full of belongings that took me the majority of a day to come up with a comprehensive list of the items.
Seeing Harrison laid up in the hospital added to the haunted images that flashed in my head, keeping me awake at night and a little jumpy during the day. Add to that a morning that turned into almost an unexpected full day of work, and I was heading home bone-weary. The truck trundled down the road until I passed the dress shop. Before I got too far away, I executed a U-turn and parked across the street from Ms. Robin’s business.
The bells on the door jingled when I entered, and I walked into the same room we’d been so happy in not too long ago. I waited by the counter, not wanting to interrupt Ms. Robin if she was working. But if she had a moment free, I had a couple of questions for her.
“Please excuse me,” the designer called out from the back of the room. “I was in my office, and…Ruby Mae. How nice to see you again.”
“You, too, Ms. Robin. I was wondering, are you busy right now?” Even with no clients in the store, I didn’t want to presume she wasn’t working.
“Nothing that won’t wait for later.” She gestured for me to join her on the couch where we’d sat before to admire the wedding dress. “I’ve been hearing bits and pieces from different sources, but I’m hoping you can fill me in on what’s true. I can’t believe anyone thinks that sweet Azalea would have stabbed her new husband.”
“Is that what’s being spread around?” I frowned, cursing the clucking hens who were talking out of turn under my breath. “Azalea didn’t do it. But I’m afraid her dress might have been a casualty.”
I watched for Ms. Robin to react in distress about the destruction of her work, but she waved a hand in front of her face. “In the long run, that’s just some fabric and thread. It’s nowhere near as important as someone’s life being ruined. Speaking of, how’s Harrison doing?”
Settling into the back of the couch, I readied myself to fill her in on the details all the way to the present, but Tara called out her boss’s name. “How do you want me to list the rack of dresses on the back left-hand side of the storage room? Are they bridal wear or formal?” The assistant caught sight of me and stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know we weren’t alone.”
“It’s okay, Tara. Sit down with us. Ruby Mae was getting ready to give us details since the two of us missed everything.” Ms. Robin pointed at the nearby cushioned chair.
“Actually, I’m glad you’re her
e, too, Tara.” I shifted in my seat. “Before I share anything, I wanted to ask if either of you saw anybody or anything out of the ordinary when you were helping the bride get ready for the ceremony?”
Ms. Robin tapped the corner of her mouth. “Not that I can recall. However, the mother of the bride seemed rather chilly about her daughter’s wedding day.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a whole different rodeo. Neither of you saw someone that wasn’t supposed to be hanging around or seemed like maybe they were up to no good?”
Tara shook her head no but kept her mouth shut. The owner of the shop agreed. “No mustache-twirling villains lurking about that I took notice of. And Tara, you left right after the ceremony started, right?”
“Was something wrong? I thought Gloria told me you were going to hang around to help out with anything that might need fixing before official photos or the reception?” I pressed, a little disappointed in a friend from the coven letting down Azalea on her important day.
“I wasn’t feeling that well,” Tara uttered. Her hand lifted to her neck, and she worried her forefinger back and forth under her chin. “Ms. Robin said she’d take care of things.”
The designer smiled with sympathy at her assistant. “I’ve had a lot of late nights out with my friends, too. But I guess she didn’t recover as well as you did, Ruby Mae.”
We’d encountered Tara at the Tiki Tavern when we finished medicating Azalea with booze the night before her wedding. Of course, we’d included her in the final shots since she was already there. But we’d managed to rally for our friend’s entire event.
I cocked my head to the side, observing the mouse of a girl, and she drew in a quick breath. “How’s Harrison?” she exhaled. “I heard he’s still not doing well, but I hope that’s just a rumor.”
The tip of my nose itched, and I rubbed at it while considering how much to share with her. Gloria had kept me up to date as much as possible. I’d relieved my friend of staying with Azalea at the hospital a couple of times, but the determined bride refused to leave her husband’s side for any considerable length of time.
“It’s not good. I don’t understand medical speak, but from what I did get, Harrison’s life still isn’t completely in the clear. The blade punctured his spleen.” I pointed at my left side under my ribs and toward my back. “When they removed it, they had to perform surgery on him. I guess he had a significant amount of internal bleeding and he coded on the table. It’s ironic considering only a little blood leaked out from the original wound. Although a little got on me in the process of trying to help Azalea.”
“That’s terrible,” Ms. Robin exclaimed.
“Oh no,” gushed Tara, covering her mouth with both hands and sprinting away.
“I think the whole blood thing makes her queasy. She doesn’t like it when she pricks her own finger,” Ms. Robin explained. “But that sounds utterly terrible for Harrison. Is he awake now?”
I shook my head. “He’s still got tubes and stuff covering his mouth and nose. They’re going to try and assess in the next couple of days how things are going. He’s still at risk that they haven’t stopped all the bleeding.”
Ms. Robin leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together. “That means they won’t be able to ask him if he saw who did it. I’ll bet that’s why people are talking and saying that it was Azalea. That’s the only information anybody has, and they’re running with it.”
Impressed with how quickly she’d come to the conclusion on her own, I risked showing a few of my cards to her. “I told the lieutenant when she interviewed me that I didn’t think Azalea did it, and she said she’d be relying on facts and not rumors. So, that’s definitely a good thing. I’m sure she’d like Harrison to be coherent so he can give his account, but in the meantime, I’m truly hoping she’s building a list of plausible culprits.”
Ms. Robin cocked an eyebrow at me. “I’m guessing you’ve already started a list of your own since you boldly asked me if I’d seen anybody. Knowing you, you’re not one to rest on your laurels when you could be looking into things yourself.”
“You’re a genius in real life as well as with a needle and a thread,” I complimented her. “I’ve been trying to be patient, but the longer time goes on without a better suspect, the more likely it is they might try to implicate Azalea.”
The designer patted my knee and pushed herself off the couch. “If character reference meant anything, I would march right into their station and tell them there’s no way that sweet girl would raise her pinky finger against her husband. I’ve never seen anybody so well-matched other than me and my Buster.”
I stood as well and made my way toward the door. “I’ve known Harrison a long time. We’ve got work history together, and there was a time when I would have placed a considerable sum betting against him ever settling down. But after he met Azalea, I marveled at how much he changed for the better.”
She clutched my wrist and stopped me from moving. “Then that’s where you need to start.”
“Pardon?”
“With Harrison’s past,” she explained. “If he wasn’t a man into settling down, then chances are he had a wandering eye. Perhaps there’s someone in his past who wouldn’t want him to get his Happy Ever After.”
I doubted any of the bartender’s former one-night stands would care an ounce if he got married. But maybe Ms. Robin was right. There could be a rotten apple or two in Harrison’s past worth consideration.
“Thank you for the suggestion. It’s actually really helpful,” I said, opening her front door. “If not anything else other than to give me something useful to focus on.”
Ms. Robin blushed. “If I was younger, I’d join you on your crusade. As it is, I’m making the first moves to ready the business for its final days. Have your dad or uncle contact me, and I’ll make an appointment for you guys to come in and give me some assessments and estimates.”
“With pleasure. Thanks again.” I stepped out onto the sidewalk with a little more pep in my step than when I’d entered. I recalled a favor I was supposed to do for Azalea and turned on my heels and went back inside.
“Did you forget something?” the owner asked.
I tapped the side of my head. “I’ve been a little tired lately. It completely slipped my mind that I was supposed to thank you for the pretty flowers you sent to the hospital.”
Ms. Robin frowned. “Flowers? But I didn’t order any to be delivered.”
“Oh.” I told her about running into Tara and the explanation that went with the bouquet I was made to take to Harrison’s room. “I thought they were from you. At least that’s what I was told.”
The designer heaved a long sigh. “I’m sure she meant well, and I’m happy to pay her back for whatever she spent. Her focus has been slipping lately. I know a fake excuse when I hear one, and I know she could have stayed to help during the photos. But since I didn’t mind helping Azalea, I thought why not let Tara go home and pull herself together.” She looked off into the distance as if reliving some memory. “Sometimes we girls need a moment to regroup.”
It was a simple enough explanation, and one I should have been satisfied with. After saying a second goodbye and hopping in my truck, I filed away the assistant’s strange behavior as disappointing. Pulling back onto the street, I aimed the truck in the direction of Jewell, NC, hoping to get some good food with a side of good advice from my family on what happens next.
“I don’t want you getting involved. I mean it, Ruby Mae.” My father slammed a box of stuff down on the wooden table in the middle of the storage barn.
“But Dad.” If he wanted to act like an overbearing, unreasonable parent, then I had no problem whining like a child. “Me and my friends have a better chance at narrowing down who might have wanted to hurt Harrison since we know him and his wife better. We’ll think of things the county sheriffs won’t. And if you’d let me go raid our vault, I’ll be there’s something in there that could help us discover
the truth.”
My father stopped moving inventory around. “Now you’re out of line and you know it,” he grumbled. “We don’t experiment with the magical items stored safely away from the human world in our secret family safe.”
I shifted a box out of the way to clear room on the table. “That’s not completely true,” I mumbled. “But you’re right. I can take care of things on my own.”
Dad halted and leaned against the top of the cardboard. “Butter bean, you’ve got to try and let things run their course sometimes. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to see Harrison’s body hurt the way he was on the ground or laid up in the hospital. But you stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong is a surefire way to get sticker burrs in your snout. Just ask Bobby.”
The dog, who’d been lying by the door and keeping watch to make sure Rex the Rooster wasn’t nearby, perked up and looked at us. His tail thumped on the ground in a quick, happy rhythm.
Something bumped up against my leg, and I reached down to pick up Buddy the barn cat. “Hey, boy. Are you afraid of the rooster, too? If he gives you too hard a time, you just come knocking on my door and I’ll take care of you.”
Dad snorted. “Good luck trying to tame a wild cat into being domesticated.”
Buddy lifted his mustached face and demanded pets. “Oh, yes. He’s a fierce beasty who never gets regular attention from you or Uncle Jo.” I set the cat down to let him chase something scampering off in the distance. “Put on your ‘To Do’ list to call Ms. Robin. She says she wants to get an assessment done sooner rather than later. I think what happened to Azalea might have affected her more than she let on.”
“Or she’s tired and wants to enjoy the rest of her life. I understand that emotion.” My father stooped and acted as if he would drop the last box at any moment. He grabbed his back and bellyached.
