by Adrianne Lee
“Yes. And Seth told me that someone drugged Reverend Bell with sleeping pills so he’d fall asleep during the ceremony.”
“Do you think the same person killed my mother?”
“No. Vandalism is one thing, threatening notes about stopping a wedding are mild compared to murder.”
She considered a moment. “You think Troy did those things? He didn’t want me to go through with marrying Peter. He wants us to give it another try.”
I shook my head. “It’s something he might’ve done before he joined the navy, but he’s grown up. He’s a police officer. He wouldn’t risk his new career by breaking the law. And he wouldn’t risk Reverend Bell’s life.”
“Then who would want to stop my wedding?”
I shrugged, “Your mother?”
“Why would she?”
The moment of truth. My mouth went dry. “She might’ve known Peter before coming to Weddingville. Or knew something he’d done that she didn’t approve of and that she threatened to tell you about.”
“You know what Peter said that was about.”
“Meg, you don’t threaten to kill someone just because they ask you to intercede on their behalf. Why wouldn’t Peter just tell you that himself?”
She frowned as she pulled on to Front Street. “You’re right. What is he hiding from me?”
We didn’t have time to figure it out. Police cars were parked outside Blessing’s Bridal. Meg parked. We ran to the front of the building to where a small crowd of onlookers had gathered. There were cameras flashing and people asking questions as Sheriff Gooden emerged with my mother in tow, her hands cuffed behind her. “Susan, did you kill Tanya Reilly Jones for stealing your husband?”
A buzzing sounded in my ears like a hundred bees. My head spun. I staggered. Strong arms caught me from behind, hauling me upright, holding on to me. I recognized Seth’s cologne. For some reason that returned my strength. I shook free and tunneled through the crowd in time to see my mother’s face peering out at me from the backseat of a squad car. She looked so helpless and afraid that I felt as if I’d been thrust into the role of parent. Reassuring words spilled out of me. “Don’t worry. This is a mistake. I’ll call a lawyer.”
The police car pulled away from the curb. The press moved toward me like a swarm of vermin. Seth was there again, warding them off, protecting me. “No comment.”
He hustled Meg and me into the bridal shop, then closed and locked the door.
We all startled at the gasp behind us. I pivoted and saw my grandmother standing there like a petrified tree. Her face was ashen, her lips blue, and she seemed to be sweating. “Billie are you—”
“I feel dizzy,” she squeaked. Her eyes rolled back, and she went down, taking a mannequin with her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The bridal shop echoed with disturbing quietude, mannequins standing like forgotten soldiers on a frozen battlefield, silent witnesses as I placed the TEMPORARILY CLOSED sign in the storefront window. I had no choice. Mom in jail. Billie in the hospital. The media parked on our doorstep. What was I going to do?
Peter had offered to put up Mom’s bail and hire her a top-notch criminal lawyer. Mom bolted at the idea of a stranger, even a rich one, bailing her out or hiring her a high-profile attorney. She insisted on court-appointed representation. No amount of arguing changed her mind. I couldn’t make her understand how serious this was or how overwhelmed her wet-behind-the-ears public defender seemed.
Last night, I’d railed at Sheriff Gooden. “She didn’t do this.”
“The evidence says she did, Daryl Anne,” was his only response.
Meg prevented me from doing something in the sheriff’s office—to the sheriff—that I might later regret. I’d lost my normal calm, level-headed self, and Meg had found it. When had the world tipped on end?
Meg got me outside into the night, but I was still railing, “He’s not going to keep looking into Tanya’s death. He thinks he has the killer, but he’s wrong.” Cool, damp air caressed my face like a chilled cloth, lowering my internal temperature another few degrees. Any lower and I’d have hypothermia. “She didn’t do this.”
It was late afternoon the next day as I wandered aimlessly through the bridal shop’s main salon, lost in dark thoughts. No solution in sight. I turned to find Meg there offering me a fresh cup of coffee. I thanked her, and the words slipped out, “Mom didn’t kill Tanya.”
“I believe you,” Meg said, glancing sadly at the sign. She hooked her arm in mine, dragging me back through the silent shop to the elevator. “We need to find out who did before things go any farther.”
Her dear face was so earnest that I thought my heart might explode with the blessing of her. How lucky was I to have a true friend? My sense of hopelessness lessened. “How are we going to do that?”
“Like I said before, it’s time someone told us the truth about why my mother left town. And how your dad’s death is connected to that.” The second we reached the upstairs living quarters, she dug in her handbag, then patted herself down, finally rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Do you have your cell? I seem to have mislaid mine.”
Surprise. Not. I handed over my phone. “Who are you calling?”
“Dad. Might as well get it from the horse’s mouth.” She pressed numbers. Listened. Disconnected. Repeated. “Darn. He’s not at the diner or at home.”
Disappointment made me frown. “And he doesn’t own a cell phone.”
She bit her lower lip. “Should I try Zelda’s?”
Before I could answer, my phone rang. She handed it over. I read the screen, and my pulse kicked into high gear. “Gram? Are you okay?”
Billie’s collapse had been a mild heart attack, brought on by a narrowed artery. A stent fixed the issue, but she’d also reinjured her wrist when she fell. The doctor insisted she remain in the hospital for a couple of days. To be safe. I suspected that he also didn’t want her getting swept up in the craziness of what was going on with Mom. As if that could be avoided.
But it wasn’t Billie on the phone.
“Ms. Blessing, this is your grandmother’s doctor.” He gave his name, but fear buzzed in my ears, and I didn’t hear it.
“Is Gram—” The word stuck in my dry throat as my insides turned to liquid. “Okay?”
“Not really. I’ve instructed her that her recovery is reliant on the avoidance of stress, but she’s very agitated. She insists there is something she must speak with you about in case she doesn’t make it through the night. I’ve assured her that she is not dying and suggested putting off the visit for another day. However, she keeps pressing the matter.”
That explained my stubborn streak.
“So I’ve reconsidered and think it might be best if—”
I interrupted. “Are you saying I should come to the hospital now?”
“Please.” A relieved sigh filled my ear.
“On my way.”
I explained to Meg what was going on, and she insisted on driving. She’d likely seen the tremble in my hand that I couldn’t quite control and decided to remove the threat I would be to other drivers.
“Billie might know the answers to our questions,” Meg suggested as we approached St. Joseph’s Medical Center in Tacoma.
I tensed. Gram’s ashen face flashed into my mind. I saw her collapsing again, and shivers raced through me. The idea of upsetting her sent a team of hungry rodents into my stomach. Could she fill in the blanks for us? Maybe. But… “We can’t ask her. The doctor gave strict instructions that she can’t be stressed, and the subject of Tanya always stresses her.” More so now that Mom was behind bars.
“You’re right. We won’t bring it up. In fact, I’ll just say ‘hi’ to her, and then go to the waiting area and keep trying to reach Dad.”
She’d found her phone. That didn’t mean it would still be on her when it was time to leave the hospital. “That sounds good.”
But Gram wasn’t having any part of Meg going to the waiting room. She took one
look at us and began nodding. “Good. I’m glad you’re both here.”
She gestured us into the room. Her long black hair flowed loose around her shoulders, its unkempt state a sign that she wasn’t one hundred percent herself. As if the cast on her wrist wasn’t evidence enough. She’d raised the bed and was sitting up in anticipation of my arrival. “Pull up chairs and sit. I don’t need fussed over.”
It wasn’t being fussed over that she disliked; it was having any medical issue that slowed her down or pinned her to a bed. If she were feeling slightly better, she’d commandeer us to abet her escape. But first we’d need to detach the beeping monitor and IV drip. On second thought, no thanks.
I went to the bed, kissed her cheek—which I was relieved to see had regained a normal pink hue. I squeezed her uninjured hand. “What is this I hear about you disobeying the doctor’s orders?”
She ignored my tender reprimand. “Daryl Anne, I don’t have much time. I suspect the doctor had the nurse put something to make me sleep in my IV drip. I could nod off at any moment. So let me do the talking.”
I hid a smile behind my hand. “Okay.”
“I assume you’re extending your stay in Weddingville since Susan’s gone and got herself in a pickle?”
“Of course.” Much as I’d wanted to run back to L.A. that was out of the question now.
My answer smoothed the frown lines from between her eyes. “Good. There are three brides whose gowns and veils must go out this week. Check the calendar on my office desk for the names and phone numbers and reassure the brides that their dresses are ready for pick up. Two of the gowns are ready. The third, the one for the Millheimer wedding, needs to have the hem finished. I was working on it when the police came to arrest Susan. And,” she waved the cast in the air, “I can’t finish it. It’s on my lounge chair in alterations.”
“Okay, don’t worry about it any longer. I’ll handle it.” Actually, I’d be glad for the mental diversion.
“Now, how’s your mother doing?” Billie looked from me to Meg.
I hesitated, fearing I’d blurt out the dire situation in vivid detail. “She’s not talking.”
Gram shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I tried to get Susan to speak to you. Talked ’til I was blue in the face, but couldn’t change her mind. She thinks her silence is protecting you.”
The monitor beeped faster as her voice echoed my frustration. I wanted to ask, “Protecting me from what?” But knew not to agitate her further. “Gram, we can discuss this once you’re home and recovered a bit more.”
She shook her head again, muttering, “If Susan would’ve told you, told that fool sheriff, then I wouldn’t be in this hospital bed.”
You had a clogged artery. You would have had the attack sooner or later, I said inside my head. I didn’t say it out loud. I’d been warned that she was doing the talking.
“I know Susan is still being tight-lipped. Otherwise she’d be here fussing over me.” She tsked. “Sheriff Gooden’s okay for keeping the peace, handing out the occasional speeding ticket, or dealing with a misdemeanor, but let me tell you, he’s no Columbo. Or Sherlock Holmes. Or Poirot. I doubt there’s a single little gray cell in that noggin of his. He didn’t investigate this murder. He let the media police and their talking heads tell him who to arrest.”
The monitor beeps grew louder, closer together, and my own pulse began to flutter. “Gram, please calm down. If not for your sake, then for mine.”
“I’m fine, child. Good as new. Except for this blasted wrist.” She scowled at the cast, then huffed. “Matlock would argue that the only thing that video proves is your mothers didn’t like each other.”
“Everyone knows that by now.” Meg’s green eyes were flat with resignation.
Gram cast a piteous gaze on Meg. “I wonder, Meg, if you know that I pegged your mother the first time I laid eyes on her? She was as untamed as a wildflower. She reminded me of your granddad, Daryl Anne. Same restless glint in her eyes. High-spirited. A lust for the unknown. Daniel Blessing was happiest on a boat in some foreign port. Or on the ocean headed for the next adventure. I should never have tried to tie him down, but he had the most irresistible smile.”
My mind flashed on a snapshot she kept by her bedside and knew the smile she meant. I had only a vague memory of my dad’s father. Very vague. A hearty laugh, a wind-burned face, and strong arms. I knew him better in photos, few as there were.
“The small-town stay-at-home mom wasn’t in Tanya’s DNA,” Billie continued. “She’d fallen in love with a down-to-earth, roots-planted-forever-in-one-place kind of guy. She tried to embrace the life Finn wanted, much as Daniel tried to live in my world, but it was killing her soul. It wasn’t what she needed. What she craved. She longed for the next great escapade. She couldn’t help it. She was as bound to leave as my Danny was. The hardest, kindest thing she did was to leave you behind with Big Finn.”
Meg shifted in the chair, her eyes rounding at the statement, shoulders lifting at the new insight into her mother’s abandonment. I prayed perception would lighten the scars on her inner child’s heart, even if it couldn’t wipe away years of bitter separation. My heart broke a little more for Meg. I reached over and squeezed her hand and held on tight, as much for my sake as hers.
I needed enlightenment too. I struggled to get the words out. “Is what Tanya said true? Would my dad still be alive if Mom had divorced him and he’d left with Tanya?”
Billie frowned. “Where’d you get such a fool idea?”
I relayed the conversation in the restaurant ladies’ room with a trembling voice.
“Pish-posh,” Billie said. “Meg, I’m sorry, but your mother stretched the truth like it was a rubber band. Daryl loved Susan. And Big Finn was his friend. Oh, there were rumors, but no basis to any of ’em. Probably started by Tanya.”
“Then why didn’t Mom deny it when she was given the chance?” I didn’t want to risk Gram having a setback, but I had to have the answer to the one question that kept digging at me. I wiped my palms on my jeans. “Why did she go after Tanya in the video if she knew it was all lies?”
Billie sank back on the pillows. Her eyelids seemed really heavy now, and I sensed she was struggling to keep them open. The numbers on the monitor calmed. She yawned and then spoke in a low, sleepy tone. “The lies and innuendoes embarrassed and hurt Susan. But she was too shy to stand up against the gossip, which set folks to whispering, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’ Self-disgust has been building up in Susan all these years. Everyone has a breaking point. After that confrontation at the restaurant, I guess she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She must’ve decided to have it out. Face to face. But Tanya went after her, ripping at her dress, robbing the belt off it like a trophy, showing Susan once again that she was the alpha female.”
“Why hasn’t Susan told this to the police?” Meg asked.
Billie yawned again, her eyes drifting shut, then popping open. “I suspect she’s humiliated that she lost control, and now, thanks to that video, the whole U.S. of A. knows it.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We hit the jail on the way home but got nowhere with my mother. Despite telling her we knew everything, she wasn’t ready to confide in her attorney. I couldn’t really blame her. I didn’t trust that rookie myself. Meg spent the night again, and I woke the next morning with determination. “We’ve got to figure out who the killer is, Meg, before my mother ends up living the real Orange Is the New Black.”
“First, we’re going to Cold Feet Café. Peter flew to Texas last night. Ash is dropping Walter at the airport, then driving Peter’s Jaguar back to L.A. this morning. I’m meeting her at the café before she leaves. Since I’m staying on a couple of weeks, she’ll be filling in for me with the show.”
My assistant was doing the same for me.
“Plus,” Meg said, “you and I need some fuel or we’ll collapse before we can launch our secret investigation.”
“Ah, I’m not sure, Meg.” Visions o
f being stared at, pointed at, and gossiped about by people we’d known all our lives enveloped me in reluctance. Meg must have sensed it.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Meg grabbed my arm as I started to retreat. “If I can face that crowd of locals, so can you.”
She was right. Mom and Gram weren’t available to hold their heads up, to show the courage of the Blessing family in the face of adversity. But I could. I would. Even if I was quailing inside. We showered and dressed and headed out into the cool May morning. Salty air filled my lungs and boosted my morale. The streets were relatively quiet at this early hour, until we neared Big Finn’s. From the looks of it, the breakfast crowd was present and accounted for, digging down.
I hadn’t thought I could eat, but the moment we stepped inside the café, the aromas attacked, promising pure delight. I spied Ash in the end booth, perusing an iPad, but I was immediately distracted by a sudden buzz in the collective conversation. My appetite fled.
Ten days ago, Meg and I had been two hometown success stories, everyone eager to welcome us. To celebrate us. Now those same faces were guarded. Suspicious. We’d brought murder to their doorstep. We might even be murderers. Or related to one, in my case. Although I was surprised that Meg wasn’t being shown more compassion. Apparently Tanya’s outcast status had tainted her daughter. Unfairly.
I bit down an urge to yell at those openly judging us. I took a different tact instead. I donned a bright smile, lifted my chin, and followed Meg. A hand snaked out of the booth ahead of her, catching her wrist. She stopped. I nearly ran into her.
“Hey, good lookin’,” Troy said, his voice low and throaty as he gazed up at her with those bedroom eyes. No matter how I hated him for arresting my mother, I had to admit his uniform gave him a certain appeal. If you liked his type. Which Meg obviously did. She sucked in a breath, and I swear I saw her tremble. Yep. She most definitely had lingering, romantic feelings for the man she was not engaged to.
Meg seemed suddenly aware of staring eyes coming from all directions. She shook free of his grasp. “Good morning, Troy. Seth.”
