A Flower Girl Murder

by Moure, Ana

  “Looking good, Prim,” the man said and walked in, straight past her.

  “Excuse me?” Sage said, outraged. “Who are you? You can’t just walk in.”

  “Not in a good mood tonight, are we?” the man said, only now stopping to consider her. “Oh,” he said slowly, “Oh, my mistake. Who are you?”

  “You seriously thought I was Prim?” Sage grumbled. She realized she was being rude to a stranger, but his behavior didn’t invite anything better. “Never mind, let me get her.”

  “Wait,” the man said, clearly entertained by the mix-up, “You are her little sister, aren’t you? I heard you were staying with her. Must have slipped my mind.”

  “I didn’t know it was public knowledge,” Sage said.

  “You’d be surprised what’s public knowledge around here.”

  “Is it also okay to just walk into people’s homes around here?”

  “You mean instead of sending my calling card first?” the man said with a lazy smile. “Is that how you people do it in the big city?”

  “Let me get Prim,” Sage said, exasperated. She was in no mood for verbal games with strangers.

  “I think you might do just fine, no need to bother her,” he said, “You look pretty buff to me.”

  Here he was, mocking her again. Sage’s arms were like two sticks. She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Here,” he said, depositing the box into her hands, “It’s the cupcake samples for the wedding. Blue hydrangeas frosting and all.”

  “You make cupcakes?” Sage asked incredulously.

  “I do a lot of things,” he said smugly, “What can I say? I’m just talented.”

  Sage rolled her eyes. She was not going to indulge his sleazy flirting, if that’s even what it was.

  After he was finally gone, Sage carried the box into the kitchen.

  “Oh, great,” Prim said, “Did Dan just stop by?”

  “If Dan’s the most irritating person around here, then yes, I guess he did.”

  “Don’t be like that! He is a sweet man.”

  “Not to me, he isn’t.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Blue Hydrangeas and an Incident

  Whenever something big happened in Rosecliff, there was never a fuss about the venue. The choice was clear. If more than twenty guests were expected to attend, it was understood that it was an all-town event and everyone felt invited to the village green. In the case of Rosecliff, it was a sprawling, lush lawn that ran at a slight incline down from the town square.

  Ultimately, it reached a lovely stone-paved terrace that overlooked the spectacular ocean spray and was as perfect a spot for a wedding as any bride could wish for. The slightly eroded from the salt stone railing that ran in a semi-circle around the terrace gave the place a somewhat historical and romantic feel and marked the edge of a sharp, nearly 30-meter-high drop towards the crashing waves underneath.

  So early in the morning, the sea was so flat and still, it looked enchanted. The only sounds came from the faint lapping of water against the rocks at the foot of the headland and the occasional shrieks of the seagulls diving to their breakfast. The tangy, salty air filled Sage’s lungs and she felt peaceful and eager to start the day. As a rule, mornings, when the air pulsated with anticipation and possibilities, were much better than evenings for her tired, overly analytical mind and the incessant stream of her gloomy thoughts. Yes, she could be happy on a morning like this, in a town like Rosecliff.

  Sage jumped from the passenger seat of Prim’s wagon truck. She reached back inside for her travel mug and took a long swig of lukewarm coffee, the sleep still not completely rubbed off her eyes. The last time she’d woken so early, she’d still been working on her magical algae formula. Primrose, on the other hand, was anything but sleepy. She brimmed with contagious energy despite the first daylight still being only a sliver of pink marking the horizon.

  “You go take a look at the arch and benches,” Prim instructed, “and see if all is set up nicely and I’ll start unloading.”

  With that, she rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan (How had she managed to look so… well, prim, so early in the morning?) and unlatched the truck’s back divider. Then she started swiftly depositing the buckets of freshly cut hydrangeas on the fold-up cart she’d thoughtfully prepared.

  Meanwhile, Sage followed her sister’s orders almost robotically. No vehicles were allowed past the lane that marked the upper boundary of the village green, so she started her slow descent across the dewy grass towards the stone terrace. She didn’t even need to watch her step as there wasn’t much she could bump her dragging feet into, so she was practically sleepwalking when an unexpected noise snapped her out of the daze.

  Voices.

  For a moment, Sage was relieved that she wasn’t the only one to suffer an early morning today, but when she realized that the still invisible couple was not only braving the early hours, but had managed to get into a fight, she became intrigued. A recently wronged woman, she couldn’t help but indulge the guilty pleasure of seeing that not every couple in the world was invariably infatuated with one another.

  It looked like the raised voices were coming from the area of the wedding set-up. Changing course, Sage darted towards the cedar grove flanking the village green on the left. I’m not really in the mood to be nice to strangers right now, she mentally excused her childishness. She settled behind a gnarly trunk fairly close to the scene of the little domestic scandal and listened in.

  “…our last chance to clean up this mess. This wedding… It can’t happen,” a male voice came through.

  “What? No!” a woman almost shrieked, alarmed. “You think that’s the solution? I know we need to get what we deserve one day, but it won’t be today.”

  “What are you talking about? Get what we deserve? I knew I should never have listened to you in the first place. I’d never be in this… Use your brain. There has to be something we can do.”

  “In what? Five hours? Forget it,” the woman said, sounding defeated. “The wedding is happening. It’s too late. Let’s go. We’ll miss the breakfast at the Cheshire Cat.”

  Sage craned her neck from behind the tree, trying to make out the two silhouettes behind the wedding arch. Not only was she not familiar with any of the town residents, but the sunrise behind them made it that much more difficult to distinguish any of the features of the couple’s faces in the few seconds she actually saw them. They were both hooded and facing out to the sea, completely oblivious to her presence.

  So, it wasn’t a domestic scandal after all. It was something a lot spicier from what she could tell. She mentally urged them to keep fighting, when a loud “Sage!” broke the momentary stillness in the air. She turned around instinctively.

  Primrose was coming down the lawn, pushing the cart almost three times her own size, her face obscured behind twigs of greenery and little explosions of blue flowers sprouting from each bucket. Sage glanced back towards the stone terrace, but the couple had evaporated. She sighed and raised herself to come out of her hiding place. The little morning show was over. The two strangers must have taken the stairs that led down to the small beach tucked amid the rocks.

  The only thing left behind was a can of guava soda on the stone railing. A rush of wind knocked it to the ground with a dull, metallic sound. Sage wrinkled her nose as she went to retrieve it. First of all, she hated littering, and second, she couldn’t believe anyone would drink the nasty chemical guava concoction.

  “Sage! Where on Earth did you go?” Prim panted, almost out of breath. “Is everything okay with the arch?”

  “Prim!” Sage said, “I’ve just heard the most unusual thing.”

  “How old are they?” Sage asked, scandalized, leaning in towards Prim who was taking endless snapshots of the flower arrangements. She had truly outdone herself this time. The wedding arch was heavy with lush hydrangeas in all hues of blue, their heads as big and impressive as handballs. Their pots were cleverly obscured with curly willow branches,
ivy and sprays of green pom pom chrysanthemums. Delicate bouquets of baby breath accentuated the arrangement and satin ribbons in deep blue and jade flapped in the light ocean breeze.

  The white wooden benches were decorated with similarly designed flower sets on either end and the aisle between the two rows was sprinkled with white petals. Some of the guests, mostly the women of Rosecliff, had already acknowledged her excellence with a palm placed over their hearts, a dramatic shake of the head and lips curled to form a silent “Aww!”

  Prim was radiant.

  “Prim!”

  “What?” she put down the camera and finally looked at her sister, confused. “How old is who?”

  “The groom and the bride, of course! They are children. Do they even know each other? I’ll say it again, how can you possibly bind yourself to another person for, like, ever, without knowing all their bags of nasty tricks.”

  “Please, don’t be cynical, honey,” Prim said, and just when she was about to say that not everyone’s relationship ends up in ruins, she managed to control herself. “Anyway, they are both eighteen. Just graduated high-school. Have been dating for years. The whole town knew it was a matter of months before the wedding was announced. The town’s sweethearts, they are.”

  Sage rolled her eyes. Still, she didn’t feel as miserable as she’d expected to feel at an event celebrating other people’s love. She was not clutching a handkerchief in expectation of a downpour of sniffles and happy tears, like most of the women on the benches and in the crowd gathered beside each row, but she found at least it wasn’t heart-wrenching and painful to attend. Plus, she wanted to be there for Prim who was beaming as if she was the guest of honor herself.

  There was a sudden commotion among the guests, and the groom and his entourage of just two groomsmen assumed a proud, erect pose as if on cue. All heads turned back to where a golf cart was wobbling through the grass, approaching. From where they stood on the fringe of the crowd, Sage and Primrose were among the first to clearly see the glowing, beautiful bride.

  Sage had already seen her when she’d been charged with delivering the bouquets for her and her two bridesmaids at the bride’s home, but the girl hadn’t been completely ready then. Now, she looked like a fairytale princess, young and fresh, blushing with happiness and anticipation.

  People stood up and the village green exploded with spontaneous applause as the proud father, a tall formidable man, escorted his daughter slowly towards the gathered crowd. His stark features were softened a bit by the tiny smile and the glint in his eyes as he basked in the warm welcome, his giant hand cupping his daughter’s dainty one. The breeze caught the gauzy veil and it flew festively behind the bride, extracting a few oh-s and ah-s from the town’s women. Her long, fairy skirts flowed beautifully around her and she appeared as if gliding towards her future husband.

  Primrose lightly nudged Sage in the ribs with her elbow and without breaking her fascinated gaze from the bride, indicated the bridal bouquet with her chin.

  “It’s exquisite, Prim, really,” Sage admitted. She was finally starting to get in the wedding mood and for a moment, if you asked her, love was really the driving force of life.

  The two bridesmaids, dressed in long aqua gowns, stepped forward from behind the guests and took their positions at the foot of the aisle leading to the altar. One of them carried a white rattan basket decorated with blue ribbons and full of pastel-colored rose petals, another one of Prim’s creations.

  Finally, as the bride and her father almost reached the spot where Prim and Sage stood, the joyful first tones of the wedding march reverberated through the air. The applause seized and everyone seemed to be holding their breath as the flower girl took her first steps down the aisle, ceremoniously strewing sprays of flower petals in the air in front of her. The second bridesmaid waited a few beats and took her own turn between the rows of white benches, smiling at the guests and holding a smaller, but still gorgeous bouquet of white hydrangeas. Last came the father-daughter duet, grand and happy in their entrance.

  The procession moved at a slow pace, giving everyone a chance to admire the beauty of the bride and her phenomenal gown. Sage rested her head on her sister’s shoulder and watched on dreamily until all of a sudden a loud shriek jolted her back to reality.

  By the time she and Prim realized something had happened down the aisle, there was a nest of heads and bodies formed around a spot only steps away from the arch and the altar and a loud wail pierced the buzzing of a hundred voices talking over each other.

  Sage pulled Prim by the wrist towards the scene, curiosity driving her to make way through the thickening crowd. At the same time Prim spotted Ben’s face and waved frantically at him as he was pushing his way towards the center of the tight circle of people. Prim took a chance and this time it was her who grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her in Ben’s wake.

  “Everyone, please take a few steps back,” Ben ushered and seeing who the command came from, people started respectfully retreating to let the sheriff reach the heap of white and blue strewn over the grass. Sage and Prim used the last chance to sneak in the first line of worried spectators, before the circle closed again behind their backs.

  As Ben crouched down and put a gentle hand on the bare, heaving shoulder of the kneeling bride, she turned abruptly, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen already, and stared at him in confusion. Only now could Prim and Sage take a look at what lay sprawled in her voluminous skirts.

  It was the flower girl.

  From the way her limbs were contorted in the most unnatural angles it was clear that, as Ben confirmed only a moment after, she was dead.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Meat Pie and Talk of Murder

  “You don’t think it had something to do with what I heard, do you?” Sage said, musing over a cup of steaming cocoa, which was surprisingly refreshing in the midday heat.

  “Don’t be so dark,” Prim said, “I still can’t believe what happened. The girl was only eighteen after all. It couldn’t have been a heart attack. As far as I know, she didn’t have any health issues.”

  “You seriously know the medical history of everyone in town?” Sage could afford to tease in a situation like this. She hadn’t spent her entire life surrounded by the same faces, knowing the tiniest, most insignificant minutiae about each member of the community. Naturally, she wasn’t as affected by the sudden death as her sister, who moved like a ghost, every now and then shaking her head in disbelief. Still, even in her shock, Prim had managed to scramble together the ingredients for a meat pie she would later take to the dead girl’s family and was now simply going through the motions of the baking process.

  “It could have been the heat,” she said after finally closing the oven’s door and wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s not impossible, even for a person in prime health to collapse from dehydration. And she was so skinny. These girls and their diets…”

  Sage stifled a snort. She couldn’t recall a time when her sister hadn’t been watching her figure. At thirty-six and after giving birth twice, Prim sported the body of a beauty queen, the laces of her frilly apron hugging the tiniest waist and her skirts enveloping firm thighs and an attractive pair of long legs. Sage couldn’t compete in that department with her rather boyish physique, her body made of flat planes and rough edges where soft curves should have been.

  “And think of poor Jasmine,” Prim said in a low, confidential whisper as though what she was saying was shameful.

  “Who was Jasmine again?” Sage asked, correctly assuming that the topic had moved off the deceased.

  “The bride,” Prim said, “I know I shouldn’t be saying this, under the circumstances, but imagine your wedding day that you’ve been waiting for all your life turning out like this. They couldn’t even say ‘I do’!”

  “I suppose they could just put it off for a while, until… Well, until everyone’s had the chance to process what happened to…”

  “Natalie,” Prim supplied helpfully and
added in a grim tone, “And I think it’s out of the question. If I were Jasmine, I’d just keep it within the family. A City Hall visit and a sufficiently nice dinner in a close circle can be just as festive, given that some time has passed.”

  Sometimes Sage thought her sister sounded as if she was reading full passages from ‘Modern Manners and Etiquette.’ She was glad, however, that Prim was so well versed in small town do’s and dont’s and knew how everything should play out. Like that meat pie. Sage would never in a million years think of baking one. Not that she knew the first thing about baking.

  Her cocoa finished, Sage took her cup to the sink and casually left it there for Prim to wash. When she was around her older sister, she turned into one big baby that couldn’t take care of herself.

  “So, you don’t think it was murder?”

  “What?” Prim was shocked. She had automatically picked up the dirty cup and started soaping it. “Why do you keep saying that? Who would want to hurt such a young, lovely creature? And ruin her sister’s wedding at the same time?”

  “Are they sisters?” Sage asked, “I didn’t know that.”

  “I know, they don’t look much alike, but yes, Natalie and Jasmine are Reverent Pendergrass’ daughters.”

  “So the tall guy, the bride’s father, is the priest?”

  “Right. He was going to officiate his daughter’s wedding and instead, now he has to deliver the eulogy for his other daughter. It just breaks my heart.”

  The rich smell of warm, golden crust and onion gravy permeated the room when Prim opened the oven and took out the ready pie. Sage could barely contain herself from breaking off a small piece of crunchy, buttery crust, but Prim was guarding her creation like a hawk. She knew her sister too well.

  “Easy now,” she said as if she was talking to a puppy, “I’ll bake another one just for you when we are back.”

  “We? Back from where?”