“You’re Enid Waldberg. From that Word of Faith Church.”
“That’s right. And this is my friend, Cici Wilde.”
Coal-colored eyes focused on me. “You were here the other day, wearing that harlot’s necklace.”
24
From: Jenna Wilde ([email protected])
Date: Thursday, May 1, 4:12 PM
To: Lauren Packer ([email protected])
Subject: Monday appointment
Mr. Packer:
This e-mail confirms our interview at 10 AM on Monday, May 5.
I look forward to discussing the opportunity you mentioned during our phone conversation
Jenna Wilde
The Wilde West Art Gallery
Taos, NM
Friday, May 2
At least Mrs. Lambert’s hostile statement about the pearls gave me an opening.
“Yes, I wore pearls. It sounds like there’s quite a story behind the necklace.”
“That Mallory woman.” Mrs. Lambert harrumphed. “Sit down. I can’t talk to you when you’re towering over me.”
Enid pulled two chairs close.
“Why do you call Mrs. Mallory. . .” I couldn’t bring myself to use the word “harlot.” I cleared my throat and restarted. “Why did you dislike Mrs. Mallory?”
Mrs. Lambert settled into serious storytelling mode. “People around here think she was some kind of saint, but I didn’t like her when she was alive, and I won’t pretend different now that she’s dead. My son, Philip, dated that harlot in college. He fancied himself in love with her and heard wedding bells. One Christmas he asked for my pearls to give to her.” She responded to the surprised look on my face. “Yep. They belonged to my family. My pa gave them to my ma. Well, the next thing he knew, that woman left Oklahoma for parts unknown. Broke his heart, she did. And now we all know what happened. That harlot went off and had a baby out of wedlock.”
Could Suzanne Jay be Mrs. Lambert’s grandchild? She answered my silent question. “Not my boy’s baby. He was a godly man, kept himself pure for marriage.”
How can she be sure? I kept my suspicions to myself; I tended to believe her. No wonder Magda gave away the pearls. Did she feel guilty every time she looked at the expensive reminder of a serious romance? Did she feel like she accepted them under false pretenses? I wondered if Magda had suspected that Peppi was the daughter of the boyfriend of her youth. If I got the pearls back to sell, I’d make restitution to Dina’s friend.
“How pleased you must have been when he found someone else to love,” Enid interjected. “God is so good at giving us second chances.”
Mrs. Lambert’s coal-colored eyes gleamed with pleasure. “That He did. I thanked God the day my Philip married Polly. And then they gave me those two darling grandchildren.”
“I believe I know your granddaughter. Peppi?”
“Peppi’s such a devoted granddaughter. She even moved back to Grace Gulch to be near me. She visits every week, you know.” Recognition blazed in her eyes. “Wait a minute. Are you related to that pink-haired young woman?”
At least “young woman” was polite. “Dina’s my sister.”
She harrumphed, expressing her opinion of pink hair and probably the world in general.
“Peter doesn’t visit often at all. He did invite me to his wedding.”
Peter Lambert, Peppi’s brother? Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater. We used to make fun of his pumpkin orange hair. He went to grade school with me and moved away after that. Peppi wouldn’t have started school yet, so I had never met her.
An attendant moved among the residents and approached us. She handed Mrs. Lambert a small pill.
Enid looked at me. Are you finished? I nodded.
“We’ve kept you too long.” Enid stood and wished Mrs. Lambert a good evening. I felt those coal eyes burning a hole in my back
When we reached the front door, Mrs. Lambert’s scratchy voice rang out, “Come back and see me any time. And bring that pink-haired gal with you.”
“She seems to like you.” The corners of Enid’s lips turned up. “Did you find out everything you needed?”
“That story about the pearls surprised me. No wonder she disliked Magda so much.” I climbed into the passenger seat of Enid’s van. “But there’s no way she crept out of the nursing home and committed murder.” It didn’t give Peppi a motive either, even if she knew. Why would she care about her father’s old girlfriend? Why, that would be like my future child killing off Cord because we once dated. It didn’t make sense.
Enid brought me to the parsonage for beef stew, redolent with garlic and a hint of apple juice, tender pearl onions, potatoes, and carrots. Her husband lost his fiery demeanor away from the pulpit. I watched the comfortable banter between husband and wife and ached over the problem with Audie. What if I had to leave Grace Gulch? Friends like Suzanne and Enid were rare jewels. I didn’t want to start over again somewhere else. Lord, give Audie and me unity about Moore. Change my “wanter,” if that’s Your plan for us.
Saturday morning I put on my Rosie the Riveter outfit. The coveralls were comfortable until I had to use the restroom. The day spun forward, with too many customers to give me time to pursue my investigation. A good day’s business was worth the delay.
When I pulled into my driveway after work, a car with a rental company sticker waited on the street. My front door opened and a tornado dressed in a beaded, fringed jacket tore down the steps. Jenna, my wayfaring older sister, had returned and welcomed me to my own house. We hugged.
“Bet you didn’t expect to see me, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”
I took note of the signs of Jenna’s presence. A single backpack hung on my coat rack, probably her only luggage. A faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, and she had rearranged the pillows in my couch in an asymmetrical pattern. Today’s copy of the Herald was spread across the coffee table.
“C’mon to the kitchen. I made some coffee.”
I chose milk over coffee and cut up an apple. She dug a packet of sweetener out of her jeans pocket and poured it into her cup.
“This is the week we’re getting fitted for the bridesmaids’ dresses, isn’t it?”
Given recent events, I had put off making a decision about the dresses. But I still had a week; the fitting was scheduled for next Saturday. Why was she here a week early?
She must have read my mind. “Oh, I know I’m early. I thought we could hang out together? Next thing you know, you’ll be an old married lady, and I’ll be the old maid aunt.”
“Not that soon, I hope.” I didn’t doubt Jenna’s desire for “sister” time, but I was equally sure she had ulterior motives in showing up seven days early. In the past, she couldn’t wait to get out of our small town.
“Soon enough.” She blew on her coffee. “You’re the first Wilde girl to settle down and get married. Who’d a thunk it?”
Jenna’s words revealed regret she seldom expressed. She gave birth to Dina at fifteen and had wisely given her baby to Mom and Dad to raise. Now I wondered if she left Grace Gulch after high school because it was too painful to stay. She steered clear of further romance.
“There’s someone special out there just for you, I’m sure of it.” I patted her shoulder. “If God could bring Audie here all the way from Chicago—”
“Enough of that.” Jenna shrugged off my attempt at solace. “This is your big day coming up. Tell me about your plans.” She wiggled her eyebrows, a trick I envied. “And fill me in on the murders.” Amber light glowed in her hazel eyes, so like Dina’s. Her zest for life filled my kitchen.
“Where do I start?” I expected “at the beginning” in reply. Wasn’t that the standard answer?
Instead, she asked, “What’s the first thing that pops into your mind when I say ‘wedding’?”
“Move.” I didn’t really just say that, did I? Jenna was the last person I wanted to discuss Audie’s job offer with. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe she could give me an outsider’s per
spective.
My answer left her speechless for a moment. “Are you and Audie planning to move after the wedding?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I told her about the theater in Moore. “We could still live in Grace Gulch, but then he’d have to commute. I would never see him, between my store hours and his evening rehearsals.”
Tears spilled out of my eyes. Part wedding jitters, part grief for Magda, part worry about the thief who invaded my store, my life, flowed. Jenna put her arms around my shoulders, not saying a word. At long last I stopped crying.
Jenna brought me a cup of spearmint tea, one of the varieties of herbal infusions she introduced me to years ago, and waited while I mopped up my face with a damp washcloth.
“I bet the cry did you good. What a rotten week.” She dished out a bowl of ice cream, ultimate comfort from someone who avoided dessert like Texas in July. “But you’re getting in a tizzy about unimportant stuff. You love Audie, and he loves you. And that’s all that matters.”
A wistful look flitted across her face, so fast that I almost missed it. I wondered again if my carefree older sister hid a secret longing for home and family.
“God will show you where He wants you to live.”
And as she said it, I believed her. I trusted God, and I trusted Audie. God wouldn’t lead us in opposite directions. Whatever the compatibility test hinted about the success of our marriage, whether we lived in Grace Gulch or Moore, or even New York City someday, God would show us the way. “I can’t wait.” At that moment, I wanted to fast forward through murder investigations, the play production on hold because of the death of its leading lady, and decisions to be made about the future, to the day of our wedding on a perfect June evening at twilight.
“Promise me you won’t elope.” Jenna’s voice had a lilting, teasing quality. “Dina would never forgive you.”
“Neither would Dad. I’m not sure if he’s looking forward to marrying off one of his daughters or if he’s sorry to see me go.” No doubt he would be unhappy if I moved away from Grace Gulch the way Jenna had. I felt the stirrings of empathy for her decision to escape the confines of family expectations at the age of eighteen. I knew she would support us, whichever job Audie accepted.
“Ready to look at wedding dresses now?” She patted a gallon-sized Ziploc bag she had laid on the table.
I laughed. “I’ve got my own stack.” I disappeared into the study and came back with a folder of catalog pages and computer printouts of wedding dresses I liked. That was the problem. I liked so many of them and couldn’t decide if I wanted a simple, nostalgic wedding reminiscent of the nineteenth century, an elegant wedding with full skirt and train that would have done Grace Kelly proud, or something more contemporary like an Augusta Jones dress. I advised people all day on what clothes to choose. Why couldn’t I decide for myself?
Jenna sorted my printouts into two piles, one much smaller than the other. I assumed they were “possible” and “definitely not.” I studied one of the rejects.
“What’s wrong with this one?” I rather liked the contemporary style, strapless, with silver bands adorning the bodice.
“Uh-uh. You would never be comfortable in a strapless dress.”
I looked at it again. She was right. It looked good on the model and maybe on me, but it felt too immodest. Another reject looked a bit like something straight out of Jane Austin with a dash of the early twentieth century added in. “What’s wrong with this one?”
Jenna looked at me as if I had lost my senses. “It’s all wrong for you. You’ve got a lovely shape—I’ve always rather envied you that—and you want Audie to see his beautiful bride, not a washboard in white walking down the aisle.”
I looked at the pleated front of the dress and laughed at Jenna’s washboard description. She did have a point.
“Don’t second guess me.” Jenna wagged her finger at me as I ruffled through the rest of the rejects. “You know fashion, but I know what looks good. I deal in art. I can visualize it on you.” She paused at the next catalog page. “Oh, my, this is perfect.” She looked from me to the picture and back again. “Yes. Definitely.”
I couldn’t stand the suspense. I snatched the paper from her hand, ready to argue with her opinion. Instead my breath caught in my throat as the perfect dress jumped off the page. Demure and romantic, contemporary yet classic, the dress captured my essence and would show off my best points. I flung my arms around Jenna.
“You’re the best big sister a girl could ever have.”
25
From: Elsie Holland ([email protected])
Date: Sunday, May 4, 9:32 PM
To: Eugene Mallory ([email protected])
Subject: Jenna Wilde
The eldest Wilde sister has returned to town. Are you interested in renewing your acquaintance?
Is new romance in the air? Or is it the stench of an old crime?
Expect further communication from me on the subject.
Saturday, May 3
After we agreed on the dress, the remaining wedding details fell into place. The rest of the evening flew by while we considered bridesmaid gowns, colors, flowers, the reception, everything. I would discuss relevant details with Audie later, but I knew, on a level where I didn’t question it, he would love it.
Close to midnight, when we set aside the plans, I couldn’t come down from the clouds. In a reversal of roles, I kept Jenna up, chatting nonstop.
The numbers on my bedside clock passed one o’clock before she complained.
“Aren’t we going to church in the morning? I need my beauty sleep, even if you don’t.”
I stayed locked awake and talked to my heavenly Father. Thank You for bringing Audie into my life and for whatever You have for us in the future. Thank You for Jenna, and for the way she helped me tonight. Thanks for keeping us safe. At some point during my phone call to God in the middle of the night, I fell asleep.
Sunday was a somber affair. We shared a short family dinner at the ranch before attending the memorial service for Magda. Even wedding plans couldn’t lift our spirits more than a couple of inches from the ground, and by common consent we agreed to meet again later in the week.
A light touch on my shoulder woke me just as my alarm went off on Monday morning. Jenna turned it off. “Sleep a bit longer. I’ll take my shower first and start some breakfast.”
I wondered if a shape shifter had taken my sister’s place. Maybe she put her best foot forward in happy emergencies like weddings.
When I woke up again forty-five minutes later, I could smell caramel truffle decaf brewing in the kitchen. I followed the aroma down the stairs and poured myself a cup. I expected the ultra-healthy, ultra-crunchy cereal Jenna favored for breakfast, but instead she had boiled eggs and cut up fresh grapefruit. My mouth salivated.
“I’ll put on my face while you eat.” She rinsed her plate and cup and left.
A few minutes later, the water in my own shower turned cold, shocking me into awareness. Shivering, I hurried into my clothes for the day—a vintage knit jersey from the University of Oklahoma. It didn’t look much different than the ones on sale today. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
I stopped in the front room and gawked at my sister. My Southwest casual sibling was dressed in her equivalent of formal wear: a denim skirt, button down blouse and pretty beaded vest with high heels, even. She had made up her face carefully, as for an important date with a new guy.
“Close your mouth before you catch a fly.” Jenna’s smile promised mischief and secrets.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s no big deal. If it works out, you’ll be the first to know.”
Anyone who knew Jenna could tell it was a big deal. I clenched my jaw. Did everyone have a secret they were keeping from me? I forced myself to relax. After she helped me so much on Saturday, I could forgive her almost anything. I stopped at Gaynor Goodies as usual.
“I’ll take a box of cranberry orange
scones.”
“Jenna’s back in town.” Jessie used tongs to lift scones into a box. Today she looked like a sour apple lollipop in her green uniform and matching striped apron.
“Yes.” I didn’t expand, but that didn’t stop the town gossip.
“I hear she’s in line for that new Visual Arts Center. All those years in Taos finally paid off. I’m sure you’ll be glad to have her back in Grace Gulch.”
I steeled my face not to give away my surprise. Jenna, why didn’t you tell me? I felt foolish learning the news this way. How ironic that Jenna might return to Grace Gulch just when Audie and I might move away.
Another thought jumped on-board as I walked across the street to my store. If Lauren Packer hired Jenna to run the Visual Arts Center, did that mean he had decided against making Audie the director for the entire complex? Would he hire someone else? Or had Audie already refused him? Told him he had accepted another position?
Jenna swung by the store mid-morning, accompanied by Dina. They were laughing, their faces matching cartoon cels from the same animator’s hand. A silhouette artist would have a hard time differentiating between them. Dina had her mother’s forehead, generous mouth, and perky nose. Only her cheeks and chin hinted at her father. Jenna had never identified him, and we never asked.
I poured three cups of coffee. “I guess the interview went well. You got the job at the Visual Arts Center?”
“You knew?”
“Oh, I know everything.”
Jenna’s face fell like a deflated balloon, and I had to laugh.
“Jessie told me.” Why didn’t you?
“I didn’t want to tell you until it was a sure thing. It’s still not official until I sign the contract, but Lauren offered me the job this morning! As managing director of the visual arts program at the new Center for the Arts! Audie might be my boss!” She started to say more, but she looked around, taking in changes to the store.
Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 02 - A String of Murders Page 18