by Kendel Lynn
“Yep,” I said. “Something like fifty thousand thirty-day sentences.”
Jona’s face slowly fell, calculations clear in her eyes. She put her hand up to keep her camera crew in place. “You have no proof.”
“Other than you just admitted you’d pay the fine,” I said. “Why offer to pay for a crime you didn’t commit?”
“And your cohort over at Island Rentals,” Sid added. “We know Brad very well, and he probably doesn’t want to serve the whole fifty thousand thirty-day sentences himself.”
“Hand me the footage,” I said. “All of it.”
“Actually, hand me the footage,” Sheriff Hill said. He was out of uniform in khakis and a button down, but he pulled out his shiny badge to identify himself.
“Hand me the footage,” Ransom said. He showed his leather foldover directly to the camera crew. It held two badges. The Sea Pine Island shield and the one from the FBI. “Oyster Cove Beach is Sea Pine Island jurisdiction,” he said to Sheriff Hill.
Jona held her defiant stance another moment, then acquiesced. She signaled the crew. They ejected identical memory cards from their camera slots and gave them to Ransom. Jona waved for them to follow her, and she dialed her phone as they went back into the house. “Get me a lawyer,” she said.
“Don’t leave the premises,” Ransom said as she retreated.
“What is happening?” Tod said from the patio doors. “The Ballantynes and their VIP entourage arrived. They’re greeting party guests by themselves.”
Zibby threaded her arm through Jane’s. “We should whisk ourselves to the lawn, dear. Those butter beans smell good enough to eat.”
“You handled that well,” Sheriff Hill said to me.
“She always does,” Ransom said. He kissed me softly on the lips. “You look beautiful, too.”
“Our Elli always gets her man,” Sid said. “I’ll catch up with you later, sweetie. Milo’s saving me a seat by the band. We’ll help Zibby and Jane get the BBQ rolling.”
“You left me a message,” Sheriff Hill said. “Something about new evidence.”
“I think you just heard it,” I said.
“I caught the end of the argument,” Ransom said. “Were they saying Daphne isn’t actually missing?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Jona intimated that Daphne was going to crash the wedding tomorrow. Some big plan they’d concocted for publicity. I’m not sure I believe her. Something isn’t right.”
“Agreed,” Sheriff Hill said. “I think I’ll talk to Jona. How about I bring her round to your station later today?”
Ransom agreed, then Sheriff Hill tipped his imaginary hat and walked away.
“A bit of a fizzle to the end of your investigation,” Ransom said. “But at least you got your man.”
“Only if you mean you,” I said. “Unless you’re going to finally tell me that Alex actually was involved.”
He held my hand, pulling me under a palm near the pool. “Sanders was not involved in Daphne’s disappearance. As far as we can tell, anyway, and we’ve looked hard. He’s been under surveillance for the last month. On Saturday, the day Daphne disappeared, he was completing a drug deal at Island Rentals.”
“And you knew this the whole time?” I said.
“Not the whole time, but early on.”
“And Sheriff Hill? He knew, too?”
“Pretty much. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he couldn’t tell you, either. Sanders had stopped cooperating. He didn’t want to give up his phone. He was worried we’d see texts arranging a drug buy that day, not anything to do with Daphne. But we didn’t need his phone or the text record. His buyer was an undercover DEA agent.”
“Ransom, you shit,” I said with a firm smack to his chest. “Why not tell me?”
“I couldn’t, you know that. I said you were barking up the wrong tree. And Parker also told you to keep looking.” He shrugged and half-smiled, trying to charm away my irritation. “I tried to nudge you the best I could.”
“I can’t always read you, Nick,” I said. “I don’t want to always read between the lines, deciphering hidden messages.”
He kissed me again, then held both my hands. “I’m not hiding. I’m right here.” His phone buzzed. He pulled it from inside sport coat. “It’s Parker. El, I’m right here in spirit, but I have to go. Sanders just started naming names. Enjoy the BBQ. I’ll call you later.”
“I’m not staying.” I nodded toward to Juliette and Millie Poppy huddled in a cabana.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He kissed my forehead and walked away.
I tracked down Tess in the kitchen with the Cake & Shake staff. They looked flustered, lost. “I guess we should serve shakes, right?” Tess asked. “The cakes are on the tables. The presentation was fantastic, by the way. The shake machines are ready. The ice cream is ready. Everything is ready. I think they’re just waiting on us.”
“Can your staff do it without you?” I said. “Serve the shakes to three hundred guests? Juliette cannot stay here. I think Millie Poppy came with Tucker. I’m sure Juliette would rather leave with you than me. She needs a close friend.”
“Yes,” a girl said. She wore a tee with the Cake & Shake logo. “There are five of us and two machines. We got this, Tess. But we need to start right now.” She directed her co-workers to the enormous freezer. They hoisted five-gallon ice cream tubs and carried them toward the front door, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
“This is our biggest party,” Tess said. “But I guess we’ve done a hundred events. You sure it’s okay if neither of us are here?”
“More than okay,” I said.
“Where’s Juliette?”
She followed me to the pool. We joined Millie Poppy and Juliette in their cabana, a tented canopy covering a pair of double loungers. Millie Poppy reclined on one with Juliette curled in her lap. Both of their faces were drawn and tear-streaked.
“I know this BBQ is important,” Juliette said. “But I just can’t even think.”
“It’s already handled,” I said. “Tess put everything in place and it’s beautiful.” I hadn’t seen it, but Juliette didn’t know that.
“Can I stay with you, Tess?” Juliette said, wiping her face. “I cannot go home. To that apartment. My God, Daphne could show up any minute. I guess she can’t spoil a wedding that isn’t happening, right? I guess I ruined her big moment.”
“Sara started the shakes, but I’ll put Quinn in charge,” Tess said. “She’s experienced running the team. She’ll handle clean up, too. She brought the van. They got this, don’t worry.” She squeezed her hand. “Be right back.”
“Millie Poppy,” I said. “How about I drive you home?”
“You going to be okay, honey?” Millie Poppy kissed Juliette’s forehead and rubbed her arm.
“Okay enough,” she said, sitting up. “You go see Sam. Tess will take care of me. I just need to go collapse somewhere. Anywhere but here. I’ll process everything later.”
Tess popped out of the house a few minutes later, and they quietly left the pool area, Tess’s arm around Juliette.
Millie Poppy asked me to wait a moment, then went inside Isle House one last time. She emerged carrying a clear garment bag covering a gorgeous beaded wedding gown. “The girls brought it for tomorrow. They’d set up a bride’s room on the second floor. Juliette shouldn’t have to deal with it. I barely want to.”
Millie Poppy slept most of the drive to Sea Pine Island. She started to talk when we first got in the car, but exhaustion took her over. So much had happened in the span of a single afternoon. Really, about a single hour. A best friend’s betrayal so deep, it could take years for Juliette to recover. And where was that best friend? Missing or hiding? I wasn’t convinced Jona knew more than she let on. At least not about Daphne’s whereabouts. While she never seemed worried Daphne was in trouble, she also neve
r seemed confident she wasn’t. And I didn’t believe for a moment Daphne would cause her parents so much despair, all in the name of publicity for a show she despised.
I parked in the temporary loading zone at Island Memorial Hospital while Millie Poppy stirred herself awake. She stared at the automatic doors leading to the lobby. A couple walked out. The woman carried two vases of flowers, the man carried a cane.
“Sam left me a voicemail,” she said. “Right before the accident. I’ve listened to it a dozen times. That’s the hardest part. I can’t talk to him. And I never will.”
“What do you mean? It’s only a dislocated hip.”
“He fell into a coma last night,” she said. “He’d been in and out of consciousness, and with the pain meds, I’d barely been able to speak to him since he got here. I was going to tell Juliette after she set up the cakes for the BBQ. There wasn’t going to be a wedding tomorrow.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Sam was talking about our rose garden, that he wanted to tell me something, but in person,” she said.
I felt dread. That full wash of heavy that filled my stomach full. Just like when Juliette tried to do the same thing earlier. Telling me she needed to talk, but it had to be later. It’s tempting the universe, and the universe does not like to be tempted.
“I always wanted to see the Princess Grace Rose Garden in Monaco,” she continued. “I think Sam was going to surprise me. How could it all go so wrong?” She squeezed my hand and opened her door.
“You want me to go inside with you?”
“You go find Daphne,” she said. “She’s not coming back to stop the wedding. I don’t care what they were hollering about. She wouldn’t have done that. That girl got herself into trouble. More than she bargained for, and it sounds like she was bargaining for more than she could handle.” She reached for the dress in the backseat.
“Let me hold that for you,” I said. “I can keep it at my cottage until you’re ready. Or I can take it anywhere. You shouldn’t have to deal with it either.”
“I normally wouldn’t consider, but frankly, I can’t imagine Emily Post would mind me asking. Could you drop it at my house? Stick it in a closet? Maybe the guest room? Out of sight, if not out of mind?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll use your key, then put it under one of the porch planters when I leave. And Millie Poppy, you can always ask me. It’s no trouble. Ever.”
She thanked me, then slowly walked across the narrow drive and into the hospital. The doors swished open, then swished closed behind her.
No beautiful outdoor beach wedding. No groom to say I do. No forever and ever amen.
Forever didn’t always mean forever. But I guess you couldn’t plan for that. You couldn’t plan for this kind of misfortune. Or plan to avoid it.
I was surrounded by people experiencing unimaginable pain—Juliette, Millie Poppy, Zanna—all stemming from a toxic tv show. It made me count my blessings, and I had many. It seemed almost silly I’d choose to ignore my own happily ever after because of the way it had all played out before. Ransom and I weren’t reliving an old episode, we were creating a new season.
As I drove the most beautiful wedding gown never to be worn to a home that may never be happy again, I thought perhaps it was time I figured out my own forever.
Just as soon as I figured out Daphne’s.
EIGHTEEN
(Day #8: Saturday Late Afternoon)
Millie Poppy’s street was deserted. It was a beautiful day to spend at the beach or on the golf course or drinking poolside with friends. Once in the driveway, I put the top down in order to wrestle the wedding dress from my backseat. It must’ve weighed twenty pounds. Heavy silk and tulle and beads. So many beautiful beads.
I slid the key in the lock, and the door handle twisted with ease. The house was quiet. A nearby grandfather clock ticked loudly. The living room and kitchen looked showcase ready, not quite lived in. Like its occupants tidied up and never returned. The rustling of the dress and my soft footsteps lightly echoed as I crossed through the house.
The guest room décor reminded me of a beachside inn. Whitewashed shiplap covered the walls, themselves adorned with sailboat prints and beachy sayings about sand and surf and seashells. The picture window overlooked the patio, fire pit, and rose garden. The ocean barely visible beyond a picket fence.
I hung the wedding dress on the rail along the farthest spot at the back of the closet, pushing the heavy zippered bag behind two storage boxes, and closed the bi-fold door with a soft snap. I glanced out the window. The afternoon breeze rustled the tall seagrass and rose bush leaves.
My mind’s inner wheels started to turn. Slowly at first. Something about the roses. And tv episodes. I continued to stare, hoping the thread of the loose thought would weave into something tangible. After a few minutes, I turned away, letting my subconscious meditate.
The patio slider from the sunroom was open. The distant ocean air drifted in. Almost calling me. I walked outside. Voices from families playing and talking and beaching sounded in the distance, mingling with softly splashing waves and soaring seagulls.
Fragrant flowers scented the air with honeyed notes of rose and jasmine. A short brick path wound around the pretty garden. I followed it.
It was when I reached the last of row bushes that the loose thread of a thought materialized. Sam tending the roses on the morning of the Sea Pine Island Home Showcase. The mulch still looked new. The mounds high and fresh. I knelt closer. Definitely much higher and fresher than the rose bushes toward the front. Why would he tend the roses in the back where no one would see them? Is this what he was trying to tell Millie Poppy in that voicemail?
I dusted my hands and returned to the patio slider, then sat in one of the Adirondack chairs facing the fire pit at the edge of the garden. I called Ransom. He didn’t answer, so I texted instead.
Me: I want to go to Barcelona. I want to go to Monterey. I want forever. Also, I’m having a Columbo moment at Millie Poppy’s, can you and Parker and the Sheriff meet me? I think I found Daphne.
I was contemplating sending a text to Parker to bring dogs when a figure came around the row of yellow roses bordering the side fence. It was Tucker. He had the remnant tears on his cheeks.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” I said. “I didn’t even see you back there.” And it never occurred to me to question the open sunroom slider.
He slid into the chair next to me with a thud. That’s when I noticed he held a letter in one hand and a gun in the other.
I jumped at the sight of the gun. I hated guns. They had a singular purpose. To kill. Either people or animals. They were dangerous and deadly and anything could happen.
“So why are you here?” he asked.
“Juliette’s dress. Millie Poppy asked me to put it in the closet. She’s at the hospital with your grandfather.”
“Yeah, I talked to her. She didn’t mention the dress. That damn dress. I hate it. I hate all of this.” He waved the gun, almost absentmindedly, around the yard and garden.
I sat quietly. Hands in my lap. Unsure of what to say, of what he intended, of why he held a gun.
“We were fine,” he continued. Almost casually, barely engaged. “Me and Daphne, me and Juliette. And then Juliette asked Daphne to put beads on her wedding dress. I think she wanted Daphne to feel involved.” He laughed. Short and bitter. “She got involved all right. So did I.”
“You weren’t dating this whole time?” I asked softly. “Since the end of Down the Isle?”
“I thought she hated me this whole time,” he said. “Turns out, she loved me.”
“And you loved her,” I said.
“And I loved her,” he said.
My phone buzzed with a soft vibration. I hoped it was Ransom saying he was on his way to meet me and not Rans
om saying he wasn’t. I thought about casually flipping it over to read the screen, but decided against the movement.
“How did you know Daphne was here?” he asked.
“Like I said, I didn’t. I came because of the dress.”
“I saw you by the roses,” he said. “So you know she’s here.”
“Yes, I know,” I said, considering what to say next. “I once saw an episode of Dateline. It made me think about the parking ticket. The one you took when you parked Daphne’s car at the Sea Pine airport. The night she disappeared.”
“But you don’t have the ticket. I burned it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t have the ticket, but I was telling the Sheriff about it on this episode of Dateline. The guy had buried his girlfriend in their backyard. Earlier today at the hospital, Millie Poppy mentioned Sam and the rose garden. I remembered him tending it, almost obsessively, the morning Daphne disappeared. Or more accurately, the morning after.”
He wiped a tear with the back of his hand, the letter hand. An envelope fluttered to the ground. “Millie Poppy” was written in block letter.
I was so focused on the gun, I’d forgotten he was holding a letter. “Sam left her a note?”
Tucker nodded. His gaze transfixed on the rose bushes.
“You weren’t trying to run Juliette off the road. You were trying to hurt Sam.”
“He was going to tell her,” Tucker said and dropped the note. It landed next to the envelope near our feet. “He did tell her. I came to leave him a note. To say goodbye. I just wanted to get away from this place. But I found this note instead. Now I can’t seem to leave it behind. I loved Daphne, but that show, it just messed with my head. It messed with everyone. I was confused. Daphne didn’t want to live on the island. Juliette wanted the family. My grandfather wanted me to run the business. Jona wanted ratings.”
“And you wanted Daphne.”
My phone vibrated again in the silence. Tucker glanced at me as seagulls called in the distance, along with the muted laughter and voices over the fence. And then the faint sound of sirens.
