The Girl in the Moss (Angie Pallorino Book 3)

by Loreth Anne White

  Mia studied the card in her hands. Time had been kind to this friend of Jasmine’s. She’d aged remarkably well. Or perhaps Mia had been kind to Mia. Maybe her looks came from eating carefully, sleeping, and exercising well. Maybe it was working with blushing young brides full with the promise of life that kept one peachy.

  She glanced up from the card. “Which friend?”

  “Perhaps we could sit down?” Angie didn’t want to dump the news on this woman that the body recently found on the Nahamish had been identified as her close school friend.

  Mia’s attention went to the door. “Sure. My first appointment is in only fifteen minutes. And my assistant will be back any second to take over the front. She just stepped out for coffees.” She hesitated. “Shall I call and ask her to bring extra coffee?”

  “No. I just had some. Thanks.” Angie perched herself gingerly on the edge of a Louis XV chair, unzipped her jacket, and loosened her scarf. It was warm in the shop.

  Mia sat across from Angie, arranging her legs neatly to the side, hands folding in her lap.

  “I don’t know if you saw the news about the remains in the shallow grave that was recently discovered on the Nahamish River?” Angie said.

  Mia stared at Angie, her eyes widening. “Jasmine?” she said softly. “Is it Jasmine? I wondered if it could be her when I heard.”

  Angie nodded. “DNA has confirmed it, yes. The coroner is ruling her death as an accidental drowning, but her grandmother has asked me to answer some questions about Jasmine and her life leading up to the trip. I believe you and Sophie Sinovich were her closest friends.”

  She exhaled shakily. “Yes. Wow. I … I suppose her gran can finally lay her properly to rest now. I can’t believe it, after all this time.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, I understand you and Jasmine had a big fallout shortly before her trip. Can you tell me what that was about?”

  Mia’s shoulders stiffened. “Why?”

  “Jasmine’s fellow anglers on the trip said she was making a big deal about a supposed secret. Also, when she drowned, she was wearing what appeared to be an engagement ring, but no one seems to know who gave her the ring and whether there even was a significant partner in her life at the time of her death.”

  Mia looked away. “I see,” she said, picking at an invisible thread on her tailored skirt.

  “It would really help her gran to have these questions answered. It would help her find closure, Mia.”

  “I … I suppose, if it will help her gran”—she looked at Angie—“there was a significant other. But I don’t know who he was. Jasmine was terribly secretive about it. He got her pregnant.”

  Angie blinked. “Jasmine was pregnant?”

  “No—no, I mean, she was, but she terminated the pregnancy just before the trip.” She rubbed her arm, a nervous gesture. “I think Jasmine was involved with someone who wouldn’t commit, but when he learned she was pregnant, he proposed. I suspect it was his way of convincing Jasmine to go through with the abortion. His way of proving to her that he’d still be there for her afterward, that she wouldn’t be abandoned.”

  “What makes you think this?”

  She exhaled heavily. “I don’t know. I might be way off base, but I just had a feeling that Jasmine was worried she would lose this guy if she didn’t go through with it and that he’d be angry. Because part of me believes she wanted to keep the baby.”

  Angie regarded Mia, an energy, an excitement, building inside her. Jasmine’s past—this case—was looking more and more interesting.

  “Why did you fall out with Jasmine, Mia?” she asked. “Was it because of the abortion?”

  She cast her eyes down. “Jaz wouldn’t tell me who the guy was. In fact, she was smug about having a secret lover. Her attitude irked me. Jaz, Sophie, and I had been tight since junior high. We shared and talked about everything. From first cigarette, to first kiss, to first sex. Her big secret lover was a slap in my face. Then, when she asked me to go with her to Vancouver for the abortion nevertheless, I put my foot down and said no. I told her she should think more carefully about her decision to terminate and to not do it simply to hold on to some secret guy. Sophie went with her instead. We never talked again.” Her voice caught, and she looked up.

  “Not that we even had a chance. Jaz went and disappeared on that river. We were never able to make amends, and I’m deeply, deeply sorry for that.”

  “Mia,” Angie said, leaning forward, “do you have any idea who the father might have been? Any wild guesses?”

  She inhaled deeply. “No. I don’t. Jasmine had a ton of boyfriends over the years. She never hid them. Mostly she had sex with them, got bored, and moved on. This time was different. Whatever she was hiding, she did a damn good job hiding it.”

  “If she did intend to marry this guy, do you think she would she have slept with others on her river trip?”

  “Did she?”

  “Possibly.”

  Mia considered this. “If she did, knowing Jaz, she might have been testing herself or the parameters of her secret relationship. It wouldn’t surprise me to hear she’d engaged in casual sex after getting rid of the baby, just to prove to herself that it wasn’t the end of the world. That she could still be whoever she wanted. She could have been testing the guy himself.” Mia paused. A wry smile curved her mouth. “Then again, knowing Jaz, maybe there was never a secret-ring guy. Maybe she bought the damn diamond ring herself just to fool us all.”

  Again this possibility was being raised, and Angie took note. It spoke strongly to Jasmine Gulati’s character.

  “Why would she do that—pretend?”

  “Jaz was like that.” Mia smoothed away the invisible thread. “The adoration of guys, and sex, was like an addiction to her. She wanted to be Ms. Mysterious, always the center of intrigue and attention.” Mia’s eyes turned sad. “She was needy. I think deep down Jasmine was empty and afraid, and I wish I’d been there to help her. Instead I pushed her away.”

  Angie held Mia’s gaze and swallowed, thinking of her own issues with anonymous sex. Her own buried neediness. “Was that her first pregnancy?”

  Mia blinked. “God, yes. Why?”

  “Are you certain? She never carried a child to term?”

  “No. No way. We shared everything. All of it. Until the engagement ring and the mystery lover, of course. Even then Jaz still shared her pregnancy with me and Sophie. Like I said, the three of us had been tight since junior high. Jaz and I go back even farther, to elementary school.”

  “There wasn’t a period where Jasmine went away perhaps? For a long enough time that she could have given birth, possibly given the baby up for adoption?”

  “Definitely not. She traveled to Europe with her parents one summer after grade nine. But it was for only four weeks. After we graduated, Jaz, Sophie, and I traveled around South America for five months. We were always together. Otherwise any trips Jaz took were short. Never anything to indicate the possibility of a child. Why?” she repeated, concern in her features.

  “The autopsy results raised a slight possibility that she might have given vaginal birth. But it’s not conclusive. I just thought I’d ask. There was also indication in the postmortem of an old shoulder injury. Do you know anything about that—a dislocation possibly?”

  Mia’s brow furrowed as she cast her mind back. “No. I … I can’t recall anything like that.”

  Angie came to her feet. “Thank you for your time, Mia. You’ve been a great help. If you do remember anything else, could you please call me?”

  Mia stood. “I will. Good luck. I’d love to know what you find out.”

  “I’m sure Jasmine’s gran would also like to speak to you about her granddaughter. I think she’s lonely,” Angie said with a smile. “You should visit her.”

  “I … I think I will. That’s a great idea.”

  As Angie turned to go, Mia said, “That’s a beautiful solitaire around your neck.”

  Angie’s hand flew up to the
ring she’d exposed by unzipping her jacket. “Oh, I, uh, thanks.”

  “Why not wear it on your finger?”

  “Needs to be resized.”

  “Engagement ring?” Mia said, coming forward to examine the diamond.

  Angie nodded, her cheeks heating.

  “Congratulations.”

  Angie stepped back abruptly and made for the door, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Mia hurried ahead and opened the door for her.

  “You know, there’s a jeweler one block up who can resize that for you in a few hours. I highly recommend him. His name is Dominique. Accent Jewelers. Tell him Mia sent you. Wait—” She scurried over to her desk and picked up a card from the neat display. “Here you go. And do mention my name. He’ll give you a good deal.”

  Angie took the card. Her gaze drifted to the dresses displayed in the alcoves set into the wall. One gown in particular caught her eye. The design was sleek, simple. No fuss or frills. It reminded Angie of something Celtic or medieval in design. Angie had always liked that look. Made her think of Robin Hood’s Maid Marian in deep, dark Sherwood Forest, or Guinevere. Of knights and dragons. Mia’s gaze followed Angie’s.

  “When’s the big day?” Mia said.

  Angie shook herself. “I, uh, we haven’t settled on a date yet.”

  “And a dress?”

  Tension balled in Angie’s stomach. “Not yet.”

  “That would look absolutely stunning on you. Especially if you wore your long hair straight and loose. I can just see it. With maybe a small circlet headpiece with a dropped pearl at the brow.”

  An image formed in Angie’s imagination. She shook it off. “Thanks.” She pocketed the card and stepped out into the cool air, delighted to have the door of Candescence close firmly behind her.

  She zipped up her jacket and hastened up the street, aiming for Mayang Photo Place. Her Mini Cooper was already packed for her drive to Port Ferris.

  Angie stopped at a crosswalk to wait for a red light, and she glanced down the street to her right. There it was—Accent Jewelers.

  Maddocks’s words filtered into her mind.

  Just know one thing, Angie—I love you. If you want to stay engaged, if you want what I want, to get married—I’m here. I’m yours. But it’s your call …

  She checked her watch. She had some time to kill before meeting with Daniel. She didn’t really have to start driving up island until noon or 1:00 p.m. at the latest. What the hell—if she wanted to do something concrete to show Maddocks that she was serious, this was a first step. Fit his ring.

  A warmth crushed through her chest at the thought of wearing his diamond on her hand. She turned and headed quickly down the street, making for the jewelry store before she could change her mind.

  CHAPTER 23

  “I’m sorry, Ange,” Daniel said. “I got nothing else for you apart from one additional file. The rest is damaged goods. There had to have been a water event, some kind of flooding, maybe a burst hot water cylinder in that crawl space where these tapes were stored. They all got soaked at some point. I suspect they never really dried out properly.”

  “But the first ones you converted were fine.”

  “Different box. That one must have stayed high and dry.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He gave her a dry look.

  “Can you restore the tapes?”

  “I can try a few tricks with some of the cassettes, but basically what I gave you is what you’re going to get.”

  Angie inhaled deeply as she processed this fact. “Okay. Can you tell me if the rest of the cassettes at least matched up with the inventory list, apart from those final missing ones you already told me about?”

  “Affirmative. Rest is all there.”

  “Thanks for trying.”

  “Anytime.” He handed Angie an invoice, and she settled her account. As she retraced her steps to the jewelry store, she recalibrated her thoughts. When she arrived at Accent Jewelers, they informed her that her ring was ready.

  Dominique himself brought it out and slipped it onto her ring finger. The diamond winked and danced in the light. Emotion threatened Angie’s eyes and filled her heart. She wished Maddocks was here. She looked up at Dominique and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  He smiled. “Looks good on you. Congratulations.”

  Angie left the store with the ring on her finger and a cocktail of conflict churning in her gut. Maybe this ring resizing was a fruitless exercise. Maybe she really had pushed Maddocks too far. Maybe she shouldn’t be wearing the ring until they’d mended things. His words looped through her mind again.

  I’m here. I’m yours. But it’s your call.

  At the intersection she hesitated once more and stole another glimpse at the diamond on her hand. Her chest ballooned with trepidation. Fear. And a whispering, distant sense of … excitement. Of possibility.

  Your call.

  She steeled her jaw and hurriedly dug out her phone. Quickly, before she thought the idea was ridiculous, before she decided she was overstepping the mark, she dialed a number.

  Angie almost choked on a sudden upsurge of nerves, but she tightened her grip on her phone as Ginny, Maddocks’s daughter, answered.

  “Hey, Ginn, how are you?” She tried to keep her voice light but failed miserably.

  “Angie? Is … everything okay? You sound odd.”

  She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. Have … have you got classes this morning?”

  “Not until noon. Why?”

  She blew out a huge breath. “Okay. Can you meet me downtown? Like, soon? Now?”

  “Angie? What’s going on—is it Dad? Is he all right?”

  “It’s … I need your help. It’s a surprise. And yes, it’s to do with your father. But it’s all good, I promise.”

  “Ah … sure. Where downtown?”

  Angie gave the address without naming the store. “I’ll be inside. Ask for me.”

  She ended the call and sucked in a huge breath as she pressed her hand against her sternum. She then bent into the wind and hurried back down the street. As she shoved through the door of the boutique, the bell tinkled. Mia and her assistant both looked up in surprise from where they were busy at the desk. Angie was breathing heavily.

  Mia surged to her feet. “Is everything okay?”

  Angie nodded toward the dress in the alcove. “I—I think I’ll try it on. That one.”

  Mirrors covered the walls floor to ceiling, and a thick drape shielded Angie from a sitting area designed for family members or bridesmaids or girlfriends—or whoever brides-to-be dragged along to these things. She stared at her reflection with a sense of surreality swallowing her because Angie did not recognize the woman staring back.

  Her red hair hung loose and long about her shoulders, offsetting the clean lines of the gown. It fitted like a glove—like Cinderella’s freaking glass slipper, like it was meant to be, just hanging there waiting for her to catch a case that would drive her into the bridal store where she would see the dress.

  “Angie?”

  She jerked at the sound of the familiar voice coming from behind the drape.

  “Ginn, is that you?”

  “Yeah, I’m out here. What is this? What in the hell is going on in there?”

  Angie drew back the curtain.

  Ginny gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes went round. “Oh. My. God. Angie? Is … is this for real?” She reached out both hands, took Angie’s in her own. “Ohmygod, is this going to happen? Is this really going to happen?”

  Angie felt stupid suddenly. She felt exposed. As if she’d just showed Ginny a secret dream before she was even certain she could attain it.

  “I … maybe.” She swallowed. “Your dad and I have been discussing it for a while, and I came in here for work, and I saw this, and—”

  “And you thought you should try it on? Damn right you should have! It’s freaking made for you.” Tears glinted in Ginny’s eyes. “Let me s
ee you. Come out here. Turn around.” Ginny stepped back.

  Angie came forward and did a slow turn, feeling self-conscious.

  Ginny pressed her hand tightly over her mouth and stood there in silence, shaking her head.

  “That bad?”

  Ginny shook her head harder.

  “Ginny?”

  “I … I can’t even talk.” She half choked, half laughed the words. “And that ring! Wow, let me see?”

  Angie held out her hand, and Ginny examined the ring. She looked up. “Dad didn’t tell me. About any of this.”

  “Ginny, he kinda doesn’t know. It’s complicated. He … we’re still working it all out.”

  “But he gave you a ring. He knows about the ring.”

  Angie nodded. “But then we had a bit of a blowup. We’re … taking it slow.”

  Ginny nodded and blew out a chestful of air, trying to gather herself. She moistened her lips. “Okay, okay. So the dress is a surprise.”

  “You could say that.” Angie snorted, feeling awkward now. “It’s a mistake,” she said, turning to go back to the dressing area. “I don’t know what made me do it.”

  Ginny grabbed her wrist. “No, Ange, no. It’s not a mistake. This is so you. It’s beautiful. You’ll never find anything like it later. You’ve got to do this.”

  “I—I think it really was a mistake.”

  “No.” Ginny’s eyes crackled with a sudden ferocity. “I know my dad. I know you. This is going to happen. I know it with all my heart, and I’m going to help make sure it does. You’re going to get this dress. And—”

  Angie opened her mouth, but Ginny’s hand shot up. “No. Hear me out. If you want to argue with yourself, go right ahead. You tell yourself that if things don’t work out, you can sell the gown. No problem. But if things do go ahead, you have it. You have something beautiful.” Ginny’s hot eyes glittered with emotion. She swiped away a tear. “You’re doing this, okay? You just are. You called me for a reason, and it’s clearly apparent that my reason is to make sure you follow through and order this dress.”