Powdered Murder (Bison Creek Mysteries Book 1)

by A. Gardner

The first person I noticed was Lila. She was sipping a glass of red wine wearing a lacy black dress that started up at her collar bone and extended down to her mid-thigh. Her hair was curled and voluminous. Compared to her slender figure, fragile arms, and sunken face, she looked like she was wearing a wig that was two sizes too big. She spotted me and examined my outfit as she walked over, her heels clanging on the wood floor.

  "Essie," she said casually, looking me up and down. "I didn't think you had it in you."

  "Excuse me?"

  "That dress is very daring." She half smiled and kept her wine glass close to her chest. "If I wore something that revealing, everyone would think I was out for attention."

  "Well." I swallowed her dirty compliment. "I had it in my closet so…" I cleared my throat and looked at her wine. "How are you feeling?"

  "Better," she answered. "Much better actually. Your sister sent a masseuse to my suite. A beastly man who calls himself Ivan. He fixed me right up." She took a relaxing breath and glanced around the room as servers began bringing out silver buckets of chilled spirits. "Turns out my back was full of knots."

  "Imagine that," I muttered.

  I spotted Bebe looking graciously at a server. She smiled as he handed her a glass. I glared in her direction, desperately hoping she would see us and immediately come over. Bebe studied the room first before she finally singled us out.

  "Gold," Lila quietly complained. "Of course Bebe would wear something angelic like that. With her blonde hair and light complexion she looks like a ray of sunshine and I look like…" Lila touched her lacy, black dress. "An undertaker."

  "Don't be stupid," I replied. "That dress makes you look dignified." I couldn’t find the right words to say other than the dress made her look conservative compared to the rest of her wardrobe.

  "True," she agreed. If this was Lila's way of fishing for compliments than it was working. She was awfully good at it. "But is it too dignified. I don't want to come off as too snotty when I meet Patrick's parents."

  "You haven't met the Jayes?"

  "Not officially," she answered. "A web chat with Patrick here and there, and they send cards."

  "But you haven't spoken with them in person?"

  Bebe joined the two of us with a giant smile on her face. I noticed that even in formal attire, she was still wearing the white wristband she sometimes snapped against her wrist. She'd attempted to hide it with matching gold bangles.

  "This place looks amazing, y'all." Bebe held up her glass before taking a sip.

  "Excuse me, girls." Lila left without even acknowledging Bebe. Bebe shook her head but kept the smile on her face.

  "She seems calmer," Bebe commented.

  "Really?" I folded my arms. "I don’t see much of a difference other than she's keeping most of her comments to herself at the moment."

  "Oh, Essie," Bebe teased. "What would I do without you?"

  "Where do you think she's going?" Lila left the room and walked quickly down the hallway.

  "She's going to change her dress, honey." Bebe's eyes widened when she studied my ensemble. "Have you seen yourself? You look like the cover of Maxim."

  "I do not," I argued, feeling my face go warm.

  "You do and she's jealous." Bebe lowered her voice when Patrick entered the room escorting his parents.

  When the Jayes first moved to Bison Creek, Joy and I used to think of Mr. and Mrs. Jaye as a real life cowboy and cowgirl. It was the way they talked, the way they invited all their neighbors over to sample homemade sweet tea, and the cowboy boots Mr. Jaye wore in place of snow boots. They were a town spectacle back then, but over the years they'd adapted to mountain living as if they had been born here. The only thing that didn't fade away was their southern accents.

  Patrick's mom, Anne, was carrying a plate of one of her specialties. She called them Mississippi mud bites, and they were chocolate dessert bars that tasted a lot like a mix between fudge and brownies. Mrs. Jaye looked around the room and clutched her plate tighter as if a little embarrassed that she had brought a homemade treat to such a formal affair. Patrick's mom was petite and her clothes hung loosely from her body like curtains of fabric. She wasn't always so skinny. Her major weight loss was a recent thing.

  Patrick's father kept his arm around her. He was taller and his hair was the same shade of dark blonde as Patrick's. He was a simple man, and he spoke with an especially thick, southern accent. Being a former lawyer, he was dressed a little more appropriate for the dinner. But Mr. Jaye was impossible to read.

  He normally looks at me like I'm hiding something. It makes me want to spill all my secrets even though I'm not eight years old anymore. But he looks at everyone that way. Everyone except his wife, and his little boy. In his eyes, the world is guilty until proven innocent.

  "Essie," Patrick gasped. His tie matched the color of his hazel eyes. "You look great."

  "Thanks."

  Bebe looked from me to Patrick and bit the corner of her lip.

  "You look very handsome, Patrick," Bebe complimented him.

  "Thank you." He took a step back and let his parents move forward. "I would like to introduce you to my parents, Anne and Buford."

  "Hello," Mr. Jaye replied.

  "Oh, Gwenessa," Anne said quietly. "What a beautiful dress."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Jaye." I looked at her homemade plate of sweets. She uncomfortably tried to cover most of it with her arm. "Are those what I think they are?"

  "Oh I … uh…" Anne blushed, glimpsing back at the dinner table.

  "I haven't had one of those in a long time," I went on. "May I?"

  "Yes, of course." Patrick's mom gratefully handed me the platter. I folded back the plastic wrap and picked up a square. On any other day I wouldn't eat something this rich and sugary because then I would have to eat another, and another, and another after that. Anne's dessert was the exception to the rule, along with my homemade granola bars that I make once in a while. Her eyes lit up as I took a bite right then and there and raved about how good they were.

  "Oh my," Bebe commented. "My grandmama used to make something like that." She copied me and took a bite of one too. Anne's flustered cheeks slowly began to return to their regular shade. "Mrs. Jaye, you should be fixin' our meal tonight."

  "Oh, that's very kind of you." Mrs. Jaye nodded.

  "I hope you don’t mind if we hoard a few," I added.

  "Please do." She nodded and her husband carefully took her arm and led her to the dinner table to find her seat. I took another bite of Anne's delectable dessert and savored the sweetness running down my throat.

  "Thanks." Patrick grinned. "I tried to explain to her that this was a formal thing, but you know how my mom is. She said she had to bring something. Southern hospitality."

  "You're a lucky man," Bebe said, nudging his shoulder. "My mama doesn't cook at all anymore."

  Patrick raised his eyebrows and glanced at the door. Two more guests appeared. I stared at their faces, a little confused before placing a hand on my chest. Patrick watched me with a worried look on his face.

  I wasn't worried anymore about losing my cool and binge eating every sweet thing in sight anymore, because my appetite had been shot.

  "Is it okay that I invited them?" he asked. "It was my mom's idea actually. The second she heard you were in the wedding party she called your mom."

  "It's fine," I answered, watching my parents approach us.

  I don't have anything against my parents, but ever since I came home from college my relationship with them changed. I became less like their child and more like a good family friend. That's around the same time I started searching for my birth mother. A journey that was cut short when the lady at the adoption agency told me my records were lost years ago in a fire. If I'd started my search earlier, I might have had a chance at finding her. Now I'll never know.

  Both my parents have dark hair and dark eyes like me, but they are tall and statuesque like Joy. Sometimes I literally feel like they are towering over me.
My mom has the same facial features as my little sister, but her demeanor is calmer like mine. Dad's the one who is quick to get angry. He has a very short temper. I guess that's why he seems more understanding of some of Joy's fits. He knows what it feels like to become so frustrated that you feel like you're on the brink of exploding.

  We live in the same town, but I usually only see them about once every other week. Their work takes them both out of town a lot. They own several properties in neighboring counties, including a campground in the next town over.

  My mom stared at my dress, but she didn't say anything. I knew what she was thinking. She probably thought that showing off my figure was my own last attempt at getting Patrick's attention, but that wasn't the case. Unfortunately, my childhood crush wasn't something I was able to hide from them.

  "Hi, honey." My mom was dressed in her best church clothes. "You never mentioned that you were in the wedding party."

  "Didn't have time, I guess."

  "Where's your sister," my dad asked. "If her events usually look like this one, they'd better give her that promotion." Dad didn't kid much. Whenever he made a comment, sarcastic or not, there was truth to it.

  "Haven't seen her," I admitted.

  "Can you believe that Mr. Kentworth?" Dad muttered. "Making Joy work all those extra hours and he is still considering other applicants. Incompetent little—"

  "Nathan," my mom snapped. "Keep your comments to yourself for the next couple of hours. You never know who is listening."

  "Fine," he grunted.

  "We are going to go find our seat, honey." My mom smiled at Bebe and led my dad towards the alcohol.

  "It is interesting meeting other people's parents," Bebe said. "You always think that yours are the only strange ones."

  "Until you meet someone else's," I finished.

  "Exactly."

  "I'm going to find our seats." Bebe walked to the table with poise and elegance. She read each name card and stopped when she found hers. I surveyed the room again, but there was no sign of Joy. I grabbed Eli's coat as he rushed past me with more drinks. For once, he was doing the actual job he was hired to do.

  "Eli," I muttered. "Where's Joy?"

  "Haven't seen her," he responded. He looked towards the door leading to the kitchen. "But I overheard one of the other assistants telling Mr. Kentworth she'd called Joy a few times, but she still hasn't responded."

  "What?" I thought back to when I last saw her. She was yelling at Wade and I made the decision to leave rather than get involved. That might have been a poor decision on my part. "She must be having car trouble." I glanced at Eli and he shrugged.

  "Don't look at me. I'm not her sister."

  He pulled himself away from my grasp and resumed his serving duties. My stomach started churning as my mind ran through a few scenarios. One ended with Joy waltzing through the doors in front of me with a smile on her face. One ended with her being sister-napped by Donna's killer. And one ended with me getting a call from the fire department saying that my apartment had been burned to a heap of nothing. I glanced at the time on my phone.

  "Oh my!" a familiar voice rang through the room. I cringed, looking at the entrance to see none other than the only couple who could have made this night even more awkward. Mayor Millbreck and his wife Martha. "What a spectacular set up," Martha said.

  Martha and the Mayor are two peas in a pod. One word that describes them both is showy. Martha isn't the only one in their relationship who thrives on rumors. Mayor Millbreck has been mayor for so long not because he is good at it. It's because most of the town is too nervous to vote him out until he decides to officially retire. The mayor is older than Martha, and he moves much slower.

  "Mayor," Patrick greeted them. Patrick looked a little shocked to see them there. "You're here."

  "Yes well, we couldn't miss this," Mayor Millbreck announced. His voice was naturally louder than most. "Why this wedding is going to put Bison Creek on the map, my boy. Nice work." He reached out and shook Patrick's hand, pulling him in for a pat on the back like the two of them were esteemed colleagues.

  "I'll have them make some extra places for you," he remarked. Patrick left Martha to gloat about her latest trip to Europe and sped towards me.

  "Did you know they were coming?" he whispered.

  "No." It was the first time we had spoken privately since he showed up at my apartment with wedding doubts. "Didn't you?"

  "Absolutely not." He acted like he was offended that the thought had even crossed my mind. He shook his head and took a step closer to me so our elbows slightly touched.

  "Well, you can't kick them out now," I joked, glancing at the two of them striding to their seats. "Martha just started telling Bebe the story of how she was almost the wife of an Indian prince. She's on a roll."

  "Where's Joy? If anyone has the guts to talk straight to Mayor Millbreck, it's her."

  "She's M.I.A." I hesitated to share more with him. "Which brings me to my next point. If she doesn't show up soon, Mr. Kentworth might have a meltdown and fire her. I think I should go."

  "Please stay, Essie." He grabbed my hand when he said it like it was a normal reflex. I looked down at our intertwined fingers and instantly broke the bond. "Sorry … but I don't think I can do this without you."

  "Then why do it at all?" It was a valid question, and I should have asked it sooner. "It's your wedding too, you know."

  "Lila and I…" He exhaled and watched our parents switch cards around so that the four of them could sit next to each other. "Please, help me through this dinner and I'll help you mend things with Mr. Kentworth." He waited anxiously for me to agree. "I'm sure Joy will turn up in a few minutes."

  "What if she doesn't?"

  "I'll make sure that Mr. Kentworth doesn't fire her," he answered. "I have my ways."

  "The perks of stardom."

  "Something like that." He grinned and offered me his arm. Before I could accept or refuse, the room fell silent.

  Lila stood in the doorway and she had changed into something much more scandalous than her original outfit. She began greeting her guests like she was on the red carpet. Her long, white, sparkly gown showed off her bony back. Her dress was a giant punch in the face, reminding everyone that she was the bride. Franco followed right behind her making sure she didn't trip over the train.

  "Is that her wedding dress?" I whispered.

  "Possibly," Patrick answered. "I know she has a few of them in room she's trying to decide between, but I haven’t seen them."

  "Welcome, everyone," she confidently announced. Franco scurried around the room like a nosey mouse. He pulled out Lila's chair and waited for her to take a seat at the head of the table next to her future husband. "Shall we begin?"

  "So nice to meet you, Lila." Mayor Millbreck outstretched his hand and began with his usual opening line. "I'm Mayor Millbreck, the only mayor in all the state who has been voted into office unanimously."

  "Nice to meet you, Mayor."

  "And I'm Martha," Martha Millbreck chimed in.

  "Come on," Patrick pulled me with him towards the table. He took his seat next to Lila.

  "Oh, Essie," Lila said. "I think you're down at the other end of the table."

  How convenient.

  "Actually, you're right over there, hun," Dad retorted. "On the other side of Patrick." He said it snidely, watching as Lila's genuine grin turned into a forced fake smile. My parents and Patrick's parents had moved around the seating chart and it appeared that they had more than one reason for it. They were sitting together, and so were Patrick and I.

  "How did that happen?" Lila asked.

  "That's not important," Dad responded bluntly.

  I gulped and took my spot next to Patrick, praying Dad wasn't in an arguing mood. If he was, he would argue with anybody who was willing. Lila would be his greatest contender yet, but it wouldn’t end well. And I was pretty sure that if it came to it the Millbreck's would side with her.

  "Thank you all for coming
," Patrick said. "Tomorrow is a very important day for us, and we're glad you could all be here to share it." He raised his glass, briefly glaring at the mayor and his wife. The room toasted to the soon-to-be newlyweds, and Patrick gulped down everything in his glass rather than take a small sip. I raised my cup of water and placed the gold cloth napkin in my lap. As Eli and the other servers brought out the first course, Mr. Kentworth poked his head in the room. His cheeks were red and he grimaced when he spotted everyone except the one person he was looking for.

  Lila and the mayor began chatting about L.A. and the latest Hollywood gossip while Bebe continued to rave about Mrs. Jaye's cooking. Patrick stared out the window at the lights winding around the chair lift. The first course was a sampling of a tuna tartar with a sweet Vidalia onion, tomato, and blue cheese salad. Mrs. Jaye made a sour face when she bit into her tartar. She was a very home cookin' sort of woman. Her given name was actually Annie Mae but she'd started going by Anne right after she moved here.

  The second course was brought out right after the first. I had hardly touched my food, but when I checked the time I noticed that the minutes were soaring by. Eli placed a plate of pasta in front of me. I took one bite and savored the creamy cheese sauce poured on top of it. Right after the second course the main dish was brought out – Colorado lamb with sautéed vegetables.

  I took a few bites of my lamb and hardly even noticed when Eli took away my plate and replaced it with a small cup of coffee before dessert. The entire evening I'd been keeping my eye on the doors hoping that Joy would walk through them and take credit for her superb planning skills. My parents stood up and strolled around the room with their coffees, stopping at the windows that faced the ski slopes. They marveled at the light display as Lila and the mayor continued discussing the pros and cons of attending a red carpet afterparty, and Patrick and Bebe buried their attention in the wide selection of dessert wines available.

  I took a deep breath and walked towards the door. No one would notice if I left. I needed to find Joy and make sure nothing bad had happened to her. Before I could escape, a hand snatched my wrist. I took a step backwards and almost stumbled. I wasn't use to moving so quickly in these heels.