Antique Blues
Page 30
“Hey, Steve.”
“I waited to stop by to thank you … I know it seems silly to talk about it now, but I heard your eulogy for Mo. It was beautiful. It meant something to me.”
“Thanks, Steve. How are you doing with all this?”
“Worse than I expected. I knew I was going to have to leave Kimberly, whether Mo and I got back together or not. I wasn’t happy, and it had been dragging on too long. Sometimes you’ve just got to rip that Band-Aid off.”
“Do you think she sensed it, or was she in denial?”
“Complete denial.”
“And then there’s Ryan.”
“Thinking about what he’s going through kills me. I know he’ll be okay, but you know … How do you get over something like this? He’s heading to Ohio at the end of the week.”
“You’ll miss him.”
“A lot.”
Sadness enveloped me, and for a moment, I struggled to speak. Murder was always horrible, but some crimes seemed especially malevolent.
“What do you think … Will Kimberly plead guilty?”
“Beats me.” Steve paused for a moment. “The other reason I came by … I’m looking for jobs in Florida. The Sunshine State. I could handle a little sunshine right about now. So I wanted to say good-bye.”
“Everything is happening so quickly.” I extended a hand. “Good luck, Steve.”
We shook. I stood by my car and watched him drive away. His world had rocked a little, but after the initial shock wore off, he would go on his merry way, unscathed.
* * *
Late that night, Ty and I were relaxing in the hot tub.
We sat quietly for several minutes.
Ty took my hand. “What are you thinking about?”
“Cause and effect.”
“Versus coincidence. How come?”
I tried to think how to express what I was feeling. “Have you ever thought about the way so many incidents link back to one singular event? You know, if I hadn’t taken that train, I wouldn’t have sat next to that person. If I hadn’t sat next to that person, I wouldn’t have heard about such-and-such a book. If I hadn’t read that book, I wouldn’t have known that x-y-z was possible. And so on. Have you ever done that?”
“Sure … it’s kind of fun.”
“Exactly. Except sometimes it’s not so much fun. Cal came up with the idea to steal Mo’s inheritance the minute he heard about it. Isn’t that horrible? That one despicable act led to fraud, blackmail, and murder. If Mo’s godmother hadn’t left her twenty-five thousand dollars, she’d be alive today.”
Ty raised my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “You’re right. Sometimes it’s not so much fun.”
EPILOGUE
MAY
Zoë picked the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend for my shower, thinking that guests would feel less rushed if she scheduled it in the middle of a three-day weekend. I’d asked her to keep it small, and she did.
The theme was “Island Loving,” in honor of Ty’s honeymoon choice. Nine of us sat on her deck drinking mai-tais and mojitos: Zoë; Gretchen; Sasha; Fred’s wife, Suzanne; Cara; Eric’s girlfriend, Grace; Helene, the director of New Hampshire Children First!; my cousin Becca,* who’d flown in from England; and me. Zoë had arranged for lunch to be prepared by a catering company that brought its own grill and smoker. We planned on doing the same for Sunday’s hoedown, so I was glad for the opportunity to test them out.
I raised my glass. “I have a toast.”
Everyone lifted their glasses.
“To Gretchen, the new general manager of Prescott’s flagship location!”
We clinked and drank, and people asked for details. I sat back and listened to Gretchen’s clear and concise explanation of her new position and its genesis. Suzanne proposed another toast, to me, for the expansion, and we clinked and sipped again.
Sasha leaned forward. “Has Ty decided whether to take the national director position?”
“Yes—he will, and we don’t have to move. He was able to negotiate basing the position here.”
Applause rippled around the room, and another toast was proposed.
“To Ty’s success,” Sasha said.
Zoë added, “And to your staying in Rocky Point.”
Later, Gretchen sat on my right, notating who gave what gift. Zoë was on my left, handing them to me one at a time. I’d asked Zoë to request donations to New Hampshire Children First! in lieu of gifts, and she had, sort of. I thought her wording was clever:
Josie’s asked that instead of a gift, you bring a donation to her favorite charity,
New Hampshire Children First!
I suggest you do both!
In addition to your donation, bring her something small to mark this special day.
The gifts were uniformly thoughtful, from monogrammed glasses to a set of rare teas, and from a string of mini-palm-tree outdoor lights to a small silver picture frame. Gretchen gave me a copper watering can. Zoë gave me a white satin-and-lace heart-shaped pillow. She’d had it custom embroidered. The message read:
Josie & Ty
Fairy Tales Do Come True
Zoë handed me the last box, a big one.
“What’s this? I thought we were done.”
“Shelley couldn’t come from New York, but she sent this.”
I ripped open the turquoise water-patterned giftwrap. Inside the box was a grass skirt. I laughed, shook it out, and stepped into it, lifting my sundress to my waist. Gretchen began humming a hula tune, and I started dancing, shimmying my hips, holding my dress up with one hand, my other arm undulating to the side, an amateur’s attempt at hula. I turned slowly, laughing. Photos were snapped and a thirty-second video recorded.
After a minute, I sat down, still wearing the grass skirt. “Shelley embraced the island theme, I see. Hawaii … the Caymans … it’s all the same, right?”
Zoë handed me the box again. “There’s more.”
I opened a tissue-paper-wrapped package. Inside was a set of ice-blue lingerie, a French lace strapless bra and matching low-cut panties. “Wow. Look at this.” I held the set up for everyone to see, then examined the labels. “They’re my size. How could Shelley possibly know my size?”
Zoë grinned. “I raided your underwear drawer.”
I laughed again, then picked up a white envelope. Inside was a check made out to New Hampshire Children First! and a handwritten note, which I read aloud:
Dear Josie,
I wish I could be there. (Ha!)
I hope you’re having a wonderful day. I got you “something blue” in case you didn’t have that yet. Very cool idea, asking for donations to your fav charity.
Love, Shelley
“Shelley is prescient,” I said. “I didn’t have the blue yet.”
“What are you doing for the rest?” Cara asked.
“I’m wearing my mother’s wedding ring on a chain around my neck. That’s something old. My dress is new. Zoë’s going to lend me her gorgeous bangle.” Zoë lifted her arm, showing off the gold-and-diamond beauty Ellis had given her last fall. “Now I have something blue.”
Becca stood. “In England, we add a bit at the end: ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a sixpence for your shoe.’” She handed me a silver coin. “I brought you a sixpence.”
“Oh, Becca! That’s wonderful.” I hugged her, and as I did, I whispered, “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it—or your wedding.”
I gave her shoulders a last squeeze before backing up. I sent my eyes around, including everyone in my comment. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re all here, including Shelley, in absentia. Thank you.”
We ate, and drank some more, and I did one final hula before calling it a day.
* * *
“We raised more than a thousand dollars!”
Ty and I were in the hot tub. I’d told him about the delicious barbecue, dem
onstrated the hula in my grass skirt, and showed off the gifts, except the lingerie, which he wouldn’t see until our wedding day. He congratulated me on my fund-raising success, admired the gifts, and leaned back, resting his head against the bumper and closing his eyes.
I placed my hand against a jet, relishing the pulsating water. “I’ve changed my mind about our wedding.”
He opened his eyes. “What did I do?”
“No, silly! Not about whether to get married, about who to invite. You know I wanted it to be just the two of us on the beach. I’ve rethought that decision.”
He shut his eyes again. “Good.”
* * *
The next Tuesday, Ty and I walked out of the Rocky Point Community Theater after seeing Oklahoma!
He handed me his program. “Max was pretty good.”
“I thought he was great. He’s a man of many talents. He looked like he was having a blast.”
“Any update from Gretchen about the wedding?” he asked.
“The Blue Dolphin is confirmed for catering the luncheon reception, and she’s organized chandeliers for the tent.”
“Chandeliers?”
“Fancy crystal chandeliers. Hey, you wanted elegant, big fella, you’re getting elegant.”
“Sweet.”
JUNE
My wedding day began with tears. I slept fitfully and was up by seven, gripped by hollow misery. I was burningly upset that my mother couldn’t see me in my wedding dress. I was crushed that my dad couldn’t walk me down the aisle. I went for a walk in the woods and talked to the sky, to my parents. I told them about Ty and our love and our life together, and by nine, when I got home, I had myself under control.
Zoë arrived a few minutes later and made us scrambled eggs, but all I could do was pick at them. I was jumpy.
At ten, Zoë helped me attach the net veil to the lilies-of-the-valley wreath that sat on the top of my head.
I met her eyes in the mirror. “I wish my parents were here.”
She took my hand in hers and squeezed. “They are.”
My eyes moistened. “Thank you.”
She spread the veil over my shoulders and had me stand. She took a step back and looked me up and down.
“Turn around.”
I did so.
I wore a pale peach to-the-ankle sleeveless silk slip dress with a scoop neckline. My sandals were strappy and high-heeled. Becca’s sixpence was taped to the bottom of my right shoe.
“I can barely walk in these sandals,” I fretted. “If I do a facer in the sand, I’m going to cry.”
“I’ll be beside you the whole way, and if you fall, I’ll pick you up. But how about taking them off once we reach the beach?”
“I’ll be barefoot.”
“Yes.”
“I got a pedicure.”
“You’re all set, then.” She finished her examination. “Oh, Josie … you’re going to take Ty’s breath away.”
I smiled.
The limo pulled into the driveway at ten thirty. The driver loaded Ty’s and my suitcases into the trunk; then Zoë and I climbed into the back.
Zoë glanced at her watch. “Ellis is picking up Ty at this very minute. Gretchen will meet us at the beach with their boutonnieres and our bouquets. The wedding planner is already at the Blue Dolphin making sure everything is set for lunch.”
“It’s pretty eccentric for the bride to skip her own wedding luncheon.”
“It would be eccentric if the bride skipped it while the groom attended. But since you and Ty both plan on skipping it, I don’t think it rises to the level of eccentricity.”
I patted her hand. “Thank you, Zoë. Thank you for reassuring me. Thank you for being you.”
* * *
The limo rolled to a stop along the sandy shoulder next to the dune where Wes and I regularly met. Gretchen was waiting by the tall grass. Zoë got out to coordinate the flowers. I stayed seated.
Through the tinted window I counted twenty-three people, ranged in a loose half circle. Ellis and Ty were already there, their blue-and-orange boutonnieres in place. I didn’t see Shelley. Oh, well. Wes stood next to Ty. This would be Wes’s first marriage as a justice of the peace.
Zoë opened the door, and I stepped out. The flowers were perfect, blue hydrangeas and orange tiger lilies, their stems stripped of leaves and wrapped in peach satin. I accepted the bouquet from Gretchen, and tears filled her expressive eyes. She kissed my cheek and hurried to join Jack and her toddler, Johnny.
Zoë touched my arm. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
As soon as we reached the sand, I slipped off my sandals. The ocean was jade green today, flecked with gold. The ragged line of guests closed in. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman a hundred yards away, running like a demon toward us. It was Shelley. When she reached the group, she eased herself into the line of guests.
Ellis and Ty approached, and from that moment, I saw nothing except Ty. I was mesmerized by the love in his eyes.
Wes came forward, a black leather portfolio in hand. He opened it and began to read: “Friends, we are gathered here together to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”
We exchanged our vows. After the kiss that marked our marriage, people applauded.
Gretchen had stashed a cooler behind a dune, and she and Cara poured everyone a plastic champagne glass full of bubbly to toast our happiness. After the first round of toasts, Shelley ran up to greet me and meet Ty.
“I’m so sorry I was late, Josie. I got lost—it turns out all dunes look alike.”
I hugged her, and she hugged me back, and we rocked from side to side.
“You came!” I whispered. “I can’t believe you came! You’re in New Hampshire!”
“I guess the cows came home after all, huh?”
I laughed, and we linked arms, and I turned to face the group. “Everyone … this is Shelley!”
When we’d finished our drinks, Ty whispered, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
I kissed Zoë’s cheek, then waved good-bye to everyone, and we left. The limo driver offered congratulations, and we set off, heading north, toward Wentworth by the Sea.
Ty leaned over and kissed me. “You got married barefoot.”
“While your toesies were in foot-prison.”
He lifted his right leg a few inches to show off his handsome cordovan slip-ons. “They may be in prison, but you’ve got to admit, these puppies are good-looking.”
“True, but I bet your toes are jealous.”
Ty leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Would you pull over for a minute?”
The limo eased onto the shoulder and stopped. Ty stepped out, and I followed.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“I thought a brief walk on the beach—barefoot—was in order. Toe-parity.”
I laughed and kicked off my sandals, and Ty removed his shoes and socks. He took my hand, and we picked our way through the dunes to the soft, warm sand.
We walked for a hundred yards or so; then Ty leaned over and kissed me. “My toes are happy.”
“What a relief.”
We walked back to the limo, hand in hand, our shoulders touching.
As I slid into my sandals, I took one last look back, memorizing the panoramic view, the dunes with the tall grasses trembling in the breeze, the pink rambling roses, and the sun-specked water, and I knew that glorious image would stay emblazoned in my head and in my heart forever.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks go to my literary agent, Cristina Concepcion of Don Congdon Associates, Inc. Thanks also go to Michael Congdon and Cara Bellucci.
Thanks to Dan and Linda Chessman, who suggested the officiate and location for Josie and Ty’s wedding; Julie Bishop, who selected the orchids for Gertie Joan; and G. D. Peters, who read an early draft of this novel with care and diligence.
The Minotaur Books team also gets special thanks, especially those I work with most closely, including executiv
e editor Hope Dellon, assistant editor Hannah O’Grady, publicity manager Sarah Melnyk, director of library marketing and national accounts manager (Macmillan) Talia Sherer, copyeditor India Cooper, and art director David Baldeosingh Rotstein.
ALSO BY JANE K. CLELAND
Glow of Death
Ornaments of Death
Blood Rubies
Lethal Treasure
Dolled Up for Murder
Deadly Threads
Silent Auction
Killer Keepsakes
Antiques to Die For
Deadly Appraisal
Consigned to Death
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jane K. Cleland once owned a New Hampshire–based antiques and rare-books business. She is the author of twelve Josie Prescott Antiques Mysteries, has been a finalist for the Macavity, Anthony, and Agatha Awards, and has twice won the David Award for Best Novel. Her book on the craft of writing won the Agatha Award for Best Nonfiction. Jane is the former president of the New York chapter of Mystery Writers of America and chairs the Wolfe Pack’s Black Orchid Novella Award. She is a member of the full-time English Department faculty at Lehman College and lives in New York City with her husband and handsome cat. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen