Marriages and Murder

by Stacey Alabaster

  But anyway, Charlie Lewis was wearing a flowing sort of blouse in white and then a black vest over the top of that and tiny little spectacles. Sort of like he was a doctor from the Old West.

  And he was putting on the waterworks for us even from a distance. Pacing. Throwing his head back. Full hysterics.

  Hmmm. If he was just pretending, he was a very good actor. Claire told me he was an artist. I noted down his full name to see if I could find any acting credits on the internet.

  “Who is this?” he asked rudely when I approached.

  Claire cleared her throat. “This is Alyson Foulkes. She is also a detective. Don’t worry. If you’ve read the books, then you would know the character of Annalyse, which is partially based on Alyson.”

  He crossed his arms. “I thought you told me that that book was a work of pure fiction.”

  I didn’t know what had gone down between these two previously, but Claire looked thoroughly called out.

  She went a little red and cleared her throat. “Well, of course all authors draw on real life events a little…”

  Charlie was not impressed by any of this. “But that is the character who is always bumbling along, making a mess of things, and then gets it wrong in the end!”

  Mmm. A bit of a sore point between Claire and I. She had actually assured me that the character of Annalyse—with a Y—was NOT based on me because instead of painting surfboards on the sand, she painted cartoon drawings of tourists on the pier. Which is not something I would ever lower myself to do. Except for that summer where I did actually do it for a bit of spare cash, but Claire had been living in Sydney at the time and knew nothing about that little chapter in my life.

  Charles realized I wasn’t going anywhere—I am too stubborn. “Well, I am only paying the five-k once, so you’re going to have to split it.”

  “That’s assuming we find her,” I said pointedly. “That’s assuming there is still a body to be found.”

  An icy look crept over Charlie’s face. Right. Maybe I shouldn’t be freaking out the guy too much just in case he was innocent. I mean, it was unlikely, but just in case.

  I studied Charlie Lewis carefully as he spoke. He was directing all his speech toward Claire, which was rude, but it did give me a chance to observe him from a distance. I was looking for any signs of fidgeting, as though he was nervous, and how often he broke eye contact. He told Claire how certain Lilly had been about the wedding and that she had never done anything like this before. “I think someone has taken her. She’s in danger.” He never broke eye contact.

  “I still don’t trust him,” I said an hour later when we walked back toward town.

  “Alyson, he is telling the truth…” Claire sounded firm. She had her mind made up and she wasn’t even listening to my objections. I was surprised. Even though we were both stubborn, out of the two of us, she was usually more open to changing her mind, because she was more skeptical than I was and less sure of her own opinions. Once I had my mind made up about something, I never changed it.

  “You just want the money,” I said wryly.

  She didn’t argue with that. “Yeah, well, I am out a wedding deposit now, aren’t I? And now I have to repair the damage done to the shop when all the shelves toppled over.”

  “That place is a money pit,” I said. “You should just sell your books the way that I sell my surf designs. Just go freelance! The key is in the name. Free.”

  Claire just stared at me. “So, you’re saying I should just pitch up a tent at the beach? And sell my books on the sand?”

  Why not? It worked for me. That was how I had been making a living for almost a decade. I stopped walking and shrugged. “Sure. I mean, there’s no overhead, no rent. And I never lose any money.”

  “You’ve just gotten lucky,” she said.

  Maybe so, but I didn’t see my luck running out any time soon.

  I took a deep breath. Maybe I should just lean into it. I already had my first task that I had been avoiding because I thought it was a waste of time. But there were three bridesmaids in town. And it turned out they were a very strange lot indeed.

  5

  Alyson

  They all looked identical. And I mean identical. So much so that at first glance, I thought they were triplets. Sisters at the very least. They each had dark brown hair with a few golden highlights and styled in ringlets. One of them told me that they had been to the hair stylist for wedding ‘trial styles’ and this was what Lilly had chosen for them. They all wore the same long dresses and the same gold locket around their necks.

  But the middle one—I didn’t know how else to tell them apart at first—shook her head and assured me that they were not related. Just very good friends.

  And very good friends of the bride. Who had apparently decided that they all needed to look exactly the same for the wedding photos. Hence the identical hairstyles.

  “Because Lilly has such bright and beautiful red hair, she wanted to stand out in the wedding shots!” said one of them, sobbing into a hanky. “Before this, I was a blonde!” And then the tears started again. I wasn’t sure whether she was sobbing about Lilly’s disappearance or her hair.

  Hmm. Why would a bride who had decided to skip out on her wedding day go to such lengths to make sure that her wedding photos were so perfect? I was becoming more and more convinced that Lilly had not skipped town of her own accord. Someone had done something to her.

  But I still didn’t think that Charlie was innocent.

  The names of the bridesmaids were Tammy, Lauren, and Lorraine. I had met them in the lobby of the beachfront hotel they were staying at, and after already being interviewed by the police that day, they were weary and exhausted.

  Now that I was getting a better look at them and now that I knew they weren’t actually triplets, I could tell that Lorraine was a bit older than the other two. Maybe five years, maybe up to ten. She was the most pulled together of the lot and was able to speak to me without blubbering.

  “Did Lilly give you any indication that she wasn’t happy? That she didn’t want to go through with the wedding?”

  They were all silent, but Lorraine looked like she wanted to say something. Finally, she just said, “No.” But it was a mumble that came from low in her throat. What was all that about?

  “We just want to know whether we need to stay here or whether we can get back to…” Then she looked at the other two and trailed off when Lauren shot her a fierce scowl and shook her head.

  After that, the three of them wouldn’t say anything to me.

  Complete silence. Locked mouths.

  Gee, solving this case was going to be easy, wasn’t it?

  6

  Claire

  I ordered a chocolate milkshake at The VRI with some trepidation. It wasn’t my usual haunt. Previously, Captain Eightball’s had been the place to be. But that was because Matt used to work there. The VRI was a lot fancier and more of a restaurant than a hangout joint. Though since Matt had taken over, it did have more of a laidback, cafe style vibe rather than the strict fine dining vibe it’d had before. I’d even convinced Alyson to meet me there in spite of the fact that she had been unceremoniously fired from the joint a couple of months earlier.

  Matt was behind the bar. He had a fancier uniform now, buttoned-up black shirt that contrasted with his long, blonde surfer hair, and it made him look super-hot. I was filling him in on everything that had happened. The mess. The missing bride. The whole disaster. I thought he would sympathize with me, but he only took it as an opportunity to push his own wedding agenda onto me.

  “Well, this is even more reason not to have our wedding in the bookshop,” Matt said.

  I couldn’t believe he was actually saying this. I did want to point out, “Umm, when you proposed, you said the bookshop would be a perfect place,” but I didn’t want us to get into a fight. After seeing what had happened between Lilly and Charles, I was aware of how flighty couples could get before a wedding. I didn’t want to have a
runaway groom on my hands. And I didn’t want to be a runaway bride!

  But I knew how Lilly felt. Maybe it had all just gotten too much. Maybe she couldn’t stand the thought of a lifetime of compromises and had just fled.

  I told Matt that I was going to take a seat in the restaurant and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Everything okay?” he asked me. I didn’t want to talk about it so I just smiled and nodded.

  So, I just sat silently and waited for Alyson to join me in the booth, while I ordered another milkshake.

  She sort of gave the cold shoulder to the hostess, Emma, and sat down across from me. They had a bitter history. Then again, that wasn’t saying much because Alyson had a bitter history with about half the people in the town.

  She had the task of interviewing the bridesmaids. Finally. And I wanted to hear what she had uncovered. If there was one strength Alyson had, it was the gift of the gab. They were the only members of the wedding party who had come to town ahead of the wedding with the bride and groom, and they knew Lilly better than anyone.

  “So. Tell me the scoop,” I said, sure that Alyson would have actually been able to come out of their meeting with a lead or two.

  Alyson just shook her head like she had been to witness some kind of warzone. “I think they are in some sort of cult or something. Like one of those ones that don’t use electricity or hot running water. They were the weirdest three people you have ever met.”

  I looked at her cautiously. “You think everyone is weird lately.”

  “That’s because they are.” She ordered a salad to go alongside her milkshake. I supposed it balanced it out, somewhat. She told me she was in training for a triathlon and had to watch her carb intake, so she could only have three milkshakes a week now, and no iced coffees and no fries. She was usually pretty good at sticking to a training diet.

  “I didn’t think Charlie was that weird. Besides all the crying,” I pointed out.

  Alyson scoffed. “Yes, he is! Did you see the guy and how he was dressed? He is a weirdo artist…”

  I just stared at her. Was she actually being serious? I had to point out the irony. “Alyson. YOU are an artist.” And quite a bit of a weirdo. But I didn’t add that part. I might have gotten a milkshake flying at my head.

  “Yeah, but…no, I’m not,” she said. “I just paint surfboards! I’m not one of those artsy fartsy precious types. I don’t wear thick frames and think I am so much better than everyone else.”

  I didn’t want to get into the semantics of it. We had a case to solve and five thousand dollars on the line. I needed that cash.

  “So, what did they say?” I asked as our food arrived. I hadn’t had quite the willpower to order a salad and had instead gone with a lamb parmigiana. The aged melted cheese on top smelled amazing, and I dug into it while I waited for Alyson to finally dish.

  “Nothing,” Alyson commented. “Like I said, I think they are in a secret cult or something. They weren’t allowed to tell me anything.”

  I put my knife and fork down and just stared at her. She got nothing out of them? Unbelievable. You know what, the character of Annalyse WAS based on Alyson and right then, she was acting exactly like her fictional counterpart—entirely useless. If you want a job done properly, you have to do it yourself. I should never have sent her to talk to the bridesmaids. Now I was just going to have to go and do it.

  “We are just wasting time, Alyson. Time we can’t afford to lose. If Lilly has been kidnapped, then she’s in danger. Every second counts!” And yet here I was, chomping down on a lamb parm. I knew the police were starting to take the concerns more seriously, and there had been a story on the local news that morning about Lilly’s disappearance. But the consensus amongst most people in the town was that she had just run away and didn’t want to be found.

  Alyson was offended that I wasn’t impressed by her poor efforts. “Well, you try then!” she said, pouting. “And good luck. They have some kind of secret.”

  Yeah. Everyone did. It was our job to get those secrets out of them. She should have known how to by now. Not just given up.

  But there was something else bugging me that day. Not just Alyson’s shenanigans, as frustrating as they were. I checked the time and hurried to scarf down the last of my parm. I didn’t have long and I had to get going. When Alyson insisted I tell her what my plans were, because she was convinced that I was investigating behind her back, I felt I had no choice but to tell her. “I am going to see Byron.”

  Byron was a local psychic and so-called “energy clearer.” Believe me, I was the most skeptical person in Eden Bay, and she had managed—somewhat—to convince me that she had some sort of power because she had been scarily accurate before. And she’d told me something very troubling recently.

  It related to my upcoming wedding to Matt. Who was Alyson’s brother. So this could all get a bit awkward.

  “Aww, can’t I come along! I love Byron.”

  I was about to say no, because of the potential awkwardness, but then I realized she would only sulk if I didn’t let her come, and anyway, in the end she would find out what Byron had told me anyway. “Okay…but this is about me, okay? Not you.”

  “Sure,” she said. “I promise to just listen and mind my own business.”

  Uh-huh.

  Yeah, right.

  7

  Alyson

  “Oh my gosh, that incense smells heavenly… I have to ask what brand it is that she is burning,” I said, a little too loudly, as we entered the backroom of the new age store where Byron had her special room. Claire shot me a look. Okay, okay, I wasn’t supposed to yell. Or go asking things. Seemed a bit rough, though.

  I loved coming to visit Byron. One of my favorite things in the world to do. She always had something wise to impart, a message, never just something simple but always something that touched deep at your soul, and I always felt rejuvenated just being in her presence.

  But Claire had asked me to keep my mouth shut, so I literally closed it back up and sat beside her as Byron took a deep breath and shut her eyes, her crystal ball below her on the table. She was doing a reading for Claire, and I was jealous. It was hard not to interrupt to ask her questions about my own life. Darn. I was going to have to book a session with her myself.

  Byron was in her late seventies or maybe even her early eighties, but she always had a youthful twinkle in her steely blue eyes and when she spoke, there was a girlishness to her voice. Byron was asking Claire some questions so that she knew specifically what to ask the guides from the ‘other side’ about, but Claire was shifting uncomfortably and being vague about what it was that she was actually there for.

  What was Princess being so furtive about? She shot me a nervous side-eye before she told Byron why she was really there.

  “I know that you warned me not to marry Matt.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Byron had told Claire not to marry my brother? I was feeling wildly betrayed by all parties involved. Especially Byron. How could she do this to me? I leaned forward and this time, my mouth was wide open. I needed to speak, and no one was going to shut me up.

  Claire shot me a look.

  Urgh! That’s right. I was supposed to sit silently, smile, and not get involved. This wasn’t about me. Apparently. Except it was! Because it was about my family! How was I supposed to just sit silently and just smile while they bad-mouthed my brother?

  Byron looked at me very slowly and smiled wisely. As if to say, Don’t worry, child, just have a bit of patience.

  Oh. Right. Maybe I should actually listen to what she had to say.

  Byron turned her full attention back to Claire and looked at her so straight in the eyes that I actually got a chill, and it wasn’t even me that she was looking at. “I only said that you are making a mistake, Claire.”

  Well, listening to what she actually had to say was not helping me at all. I thought Byron might actually be going to clarify, tell Claire that she had misunderstood.

  Byron wasn’t talking to me,
but I was furious. I wanted to jump in and clarify. And tell Byron to butt out and mind her own business. I mean, sure, I had been cautious about Claire and Matt getting married too, but this was my family’s business that Byron was getting involved with. She may have been someone I came to for blessings and advice, but this was overstepping a line. A boundary. Who was she to tell Claire that she was making a mistake?

  Claire seemed to be getting frustrated too. I think if Byron hadn’t been so elderly and fragile, she wouldn’t have been able to speak to her so calmly. “Okay… Then what did you mean by that?”

  Suddenly, there was a rattling above us. And then it was more than just a rattling. It sounded as if the whole roof was going to blow right off. I looked up and it was like we were in the Wizard of Oz when a piece of the ceiling actually came loose and plaster came crashing down.

  Claire shrieked and raced to the other side of the table to pull Byron out of the way before she was crushed by the falling ceiling.

  I still wanted to ask Byron what she had meant by a mistake.

  But there was ceiling falling all around us and Byron was coughing, and we had to run out of the shop. Or we had to walk quickly, the two of us guiding Byron with one of her arms over each of our shoulders.

  We managed to get outside before we were seriously injured, but when we got outside, we discovered that it wasn’t a whole heap safer out there either. Wizard of Oz was right. There was a gale blowing so hard that rocks were being lifted and chairs that had been sitting loose out in front of cafes were flying down the street. I stepped on my tiptoes and tried to look up at the top of the shop. Something must have landed there to cause the crack and the plaster to come loose.