by Lena Gregory
Oh, thank you, Stephanie.
“Oh, really?” Bee lifted a brow. “Give me a minute, guys. If I’ve already done your alterations, you can change into your next outfit.”
Most of the models headed toward the back of the store to a row of curtained dressing rooms. A few sat chatting and waited for their turn. Cass started back toward Bee. If she groveled appropriately, he should forgive her.
Movement at the front door caught her attention, and Luke strolled into Dreamweaver Designs. A shiver worked its way up her spine. She started forward to greet him.
“Cass?”
She turned. “Hey, Jess. What’s up?”
“Would you mind helping me?”
She glanced at Luke, who’d stopped to talk to Stephanie and Bee. “Sure. What do you need?”
Jess held up a box of bobby pins. The young girl laughed. “Bee will have a fit if I don’t put my hair up for him to work on these straps.” She glanced over her shoulder at the elaborate pattern of straps. “Gorgeous, aren’t they?”
“Absolutely stunning.”
Jess slid her fingers beneath the straps over her shoulders. “They’re a little loose, though. Bee’s going to have to adjust them a bit.”
Movement in her peripheral vision caught Cass’s attention. Stephanie bent over and dug through Cass’s bag.
Jess pulled the dress up, knelt on a small block in front of the mirror, and pulled her mass of curls into a ponytail. “How many dresses are you modeling this year?” She wrapped her thick hair into a bun and held it in place for Cass to pin it.
“I was only supposed to do the red one, but then I saw the black one in the window and begged Bee to let me model it. So, two.” Cass glanced toward Stephanie, Bee, and Luke.
“You’re so lucky. I begged him to let me wear that one, but he said you were doing it.”
Cass stuck the first pin through the bun and it popped back out.
Jess laughed. “Now you see why I need help.” She sobered quickly. “Cass?”
“Hmmm . . .” Cass worked to push another bobby pin through the thick bun.
“Can I ask you something?”
The serious tone in Jess’s voice pulled Cass’s attention from Bee. “Sure. Is something wrong?” She studied the young girl’s reflection in the mirror.
Jess shrugged, and a shoulder strap slid off. “I think maybe Lucas is going to break up with me.” A blush stole up her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. “I was just wondering if . . . well . . . Can you tell?”
“Aww . . . hon.” She smoothed a stray piece of hair back into Jess’s bun. The pain etched in Jess’s features told Cass she was probably right, and she already knew the answer, but just didn’t want to accept it. “I’ll tell you what. Stop by tomorrow and I’ll do a reading. Just keep in mind, sometimes things happen for a reason. If he does break up with you, it might be there’s someone else you’re supposed to meet.”
Jess lifted her gaze to the mirror and grinned. “If there is, can you tell if he’s hot?”
Cass laughed. Jess would be fine. Lucas was a nice boy, but a bit too immature for a serious relationship.
Stephanie handed Bee a stack of papers.
Oh. Oh no!
“You know what? I have the same problem when I try to put my hair in a bun, but I have bigger pins in my bag. Sit for a minute, and I’ll get them.” Cass didn’t wait for a response, just took off toward Bee and Stephanie. “Hey, guys. What are you doing?”
“I’m just showing Bee the sketches, so he believes you were working.”
Bee slapped Stephanie’s arm playfully with the back of his hand. “Oh, stop. I believe you.” He looked at Cass. “I’m just nosy and impatient, and I want to see the sketches.”
He slipped another page from the top of the pile to the bottom and studied the next scene. “These are great. I love the whole thing.” He pointed to the flowers draped from the front of the runway. “Do you think it would make more sense for these to be over here?” He pointed toward the spot she’d originally had them.
A bead of sweat dripped down her back. “That’s the way I originally drew it, but I moved them because it left this front section of the runway too empty.” She pointed toward a section of the drawing depicting the empty area of the stage. “So, I figured by putting them here, we have a little something in the front, too. Otherwise, all of the flowers are in the back.” She tried to take the stack of papers from Bee.
“Hey. I’m not done yet.” He pulled them back.
“I just want to show you something, then I’ll give them back.” She reached for the drawings again, but Bee held them over his head.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
“Quit fooling around, Bee. I just want to see them for a minute. Please?” Her palms had started to sweat, and she wiped them on her jeans.
“When I’m done, dear.” He threw her a haughty look and flipped another page over, then brought it in front of his eyes to look. It took only an instant for the line of his mouth to firm. He shot his gaze to her.
Ah . . . jeez . . .
Bee’s face fell. Hurt filled his eyes.
Cass lowered her head and put a hand over her eyes. She closed them and searched for a reasonable explanation. “Bee. Please. It’s not what you think.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze, pleading with her eyes for him to understand . . . to forgive her.
“Oh no?” He stared straight at her, unshed tears ready to tip over his lashes. “What is it, then?”
“Uhh . . . Okay. Actually, it probably is what you think, but let me explain. Please.”
He held the stack of papers out to Cass, but she made no move to take them. “You don’t owe me an explanation for anything. If that’s how you feel . . .” He shrugged.
Stephanie and Luke had watched the exchange up to that point without saying anything. They both wore looks of confusion, but neither interfered.
“Did you know about this?” Bee focused his full attention on Stephanie.
“Know about what?” It was obvious from her tone she had no clue what he was talking about.
“This.” He held the papers out to her.
She looked at the diagram Bee held out. Her mouth fell open, and her gaze shot to Cass. “Seriously?”
“No. Not really. I was just playing around and wanted to be fair and include everyone.”
Bee harrumphed. “Well, Stephanie, don’t you feel left out?”
“Ugh . . .” Cass shoved her hands into her hair and squeezed. She thought she might cry, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut to keep the tears from falling.
“Don’t worry, Luke. She was fair to you, too.”
Oh no. Her eyes popped open.
Luke stood holding the stack of papers, staring at the diagram of suspects. He looked up.
Cass held her breath.
His smooth, rich laughter slid through her, touching her heart.
Bee snorted and tossed the end of his scarf over his shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny.”
Luke reined in the laughter, but amusement still danced in his eyes. “Stranger, Cass? Really?” He held a hand to his chest. “I’m crushed.”
“What are you talking about?” Bee took the papers back from Luke.
“See.” He pointed to the line between his name and Marge’s, where Cass had scrawled the word stranger.
“Hmm . . . Well, that hardly seems like much of a motive.” A tentative smile touched Bee’s lips. “And she is going out with you tonight. Hardly seems like she’d go out with someone she suspects of murder.” He frowned. “Although, she might run out and meet you at a deserted lighthouse in the middle of the night . . . alone.” He stared pointedly at Cass before turning back to Luke.
Luke laughed again. “I wouldn’t take it too seriously, Bee.”
“Well
. . .” Bee glanced at Cass. Some of the pain she’d seen in his eyes seemed to have disappeared, but he still eyed her warily.
“I’m so sorry, Bee. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to figure out all of the angles and see how everyone connected. Please believe me.” She lowered her voice. “I know you didn’t do it. I really, really do.”
Bee shrugged but lowered his gaze. “Whatever.”
“No. Don’t blow it off. I hurt you, and I couldn’t be sorrier. You’ve been nothing but a friend to me since I came here. And I wasn’t in good shape. I really needed a friend, and you were there for me. Bee, I don’t want this to interfere with our friendship . . .” A tear fell over and tracked down her cheek. “It means too much to me. You mean too much to me.”
Bee reached out and caught the tear with a finger. “Oh, quit your blubbering. We’re fine. Now stop. You’re making a scene.” He laughed and pulled her into a bear hug.
When she pulled back and looked into his eyes, she found only honesty.
Oh, thank you. She offered up a silent prayer. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how important Bee had become to her.
She heaved in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’re okay, then?”
“Of course we’re okay.” Bee’s expression turned serious. “You’re one of my best friends, Cass. I have no family to speak of. You and Stephanie are my family. Now, come on. The models are getting antsy, and you know what happens when we let them lose their focus. We’ll never get it back.”
He was right about that. Bee held out the sketches again, and Cass took them and shoved them into her bag. When Bee turned back to his work, she mouthed a silent thank you to Luke.
He lifted a brow and nodded once in acknowledgment.
As she walked toward the dress rack behind Bee, she realized Luke had only poked fun at the stranger comment. He hadn’t said anything about the word gun.
22
Bee leaned over and spoke softly to Cass. “Are you sure this is okay? You don’t really think he’s the killer, right?” He eyed Luke warily.
Cass smiled. “Nah. I don’t think so.” Not too much anyway. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for worrying, though.” She reached out to squeeze his hand.
“Yeah, well . . . try to refrain from any late night . . . escapades.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Of the meeting-with-killers variety anyway.”
Cass laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m serious. No more running off in the middle of the night by yourself. Promise?”
“I promise. No more meeting with killers or suspected killers. Cross my heart.” She made an X over her chest with her finger and held her hand palm up toward him in an I swear gesture.
“All right, then. Have fun.” He ran for his car.
Rain pelted the jacket Cass held over her head as she ran down the walkway. Luke opened the door of the Jeep and, with a hand on the small of her back, guided her into the seat, then closed the door, ran around to his side, and jumped in beside her.
“Sorry. I didn’t think to bring an umbrella.” He turned the key and started the defogger and the windshield wipers, but he made no move to pull out of the spot.
“No problem. I occasionally think to buy one, but I just end up leaving it somewhere anyway, so what’s the point?”
He shifted until he sat facing her. He skimmed a featherlight caress beneath her chin. “Mind if I ask what happened?”
She forced herself not to turn away. “I fell.”
He studied her eyes a moment too long. “Fell?”
She smiled, but her heart rate kicked up a bit. “I was running, and I slid on the gravel and fell.”
He seemed to accept her explanation and turned to shift into drive. He still didn’t move the car, though. “So . . . I’m a murder suspect?”
Hmmm . . . Since he brought it up, should she question him about the gun? “Well . . . I couldn’t help but notice the gun-shaped bulge under your waistband.”
He looked over at her, his dark eyes more intense than usual, and grinned. “And where were you looking that you noticed my bulge?”
Heat erupted through her face—well, pretty much everywhere, actually—and she quickly averted her gaze to look out the windshield.
He pulled out of the lot. “So, where do you want to go?”
Apparently he wasn’t going to answer her question. Okay, then. “The only places open this late are the diner or Atlantis, a small place by the marina.”
“Is Atlantis any good?”
She thought of the romantic atmosphere, dim lighting, and large stone fireplace. “Very. They have seafood, but they also have the best steaks around, if you like that better.”
“Sounds good.”
She directed him toward the marina. They rode in silence for a while, Cass contemplating the chances Luke was a killer, Luke contemplating something she couldn’t even guess at. If the scowl was any indication, it was probably something serious. Hopefully not where to dump my body. She swallowed hard. “So, you’re here on vacation?”
Luke shrugged. “Sort of, I guess. At least that’s how it started out. Then, I got a call from my boss asking me to work while I’m here. I guess you could call it a working holiday.”
“You can work from the hotel?”
He glanced over at her, but shadows darkened his face, and she couldn’t read his expression. If he was surprised she knew where he was staying, he didn’t let on. “I can work from pretty much anywhere as long as I have my laptop and Internet service.”
Streaks of windblown rain inched along the side windows. Cass gestured toward Atlantis, and Luke hit the turn signal and pulled into the lot. It wasn’t packed, but it was definitely crowded for a Wednesday night. Most of the cars in the lot probably belonged to bar patrons.
Luke pulled to the front deck and stopped. “Why don’t you get out here? I’ll park and meet you in a minute. That way you won’t get any more soaked.”
She glanced out at the rain pounding against the hood of the car, the windshield wipers barely able to keep up. Lightning briefly lit the sky. “Sure. Thank you.” She hopped out and ran up the stairs onto the deck. Once she was under the awning, she shook the rain off her jacket and caught sight of her reflection in the glass door. Yikes. She used the glass as a makeshift mirror to try to fluff her hair.
Cass straightened when the door opened, and grinned at Jim and Tami Mills. They weren’t close friends, but she’d known Tami since they were kids. “Hi.”
Jim nodded. Tami only eyed her suspiciously and puckered her lips as if she’d sucked on a lemon.
“Uh . . . rough weather, huh?” Cass squirmed. She’d forgotten Jim and Tami lived next door to Marge Hawkins.
Jim nodded again, then turned to his wife. “Do you want to wait here and I’ll run and get the car?”
Her gaze lingered on Cass and, for a minute, Cass thought she might rather run through the thunderstorm than stand next to her on the deck.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
He left without sparing Cass another glance.
Good sense told Cass she should probably either step inside the door or stand there quietly and ignore Tami until Luke arrived. Of course, good sense wasn’t one of her strong points. It probably fell somewhere after arriving on time for rehearsals. “So . . . how have you been?”
Tami rolled her eyes and faced Cass head-on. “Why don’t you let it go, Cass? I’m not interested in small talk.”
Anger rose. Sigh . . . One of these days she’d probably learn to keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, today wasn’t that day. “Do you have a problem with me?” Duh . . . as if it’s not obvious from the attitude.
She snorted primly. “I don’t associate with killers.”
Cass’s mouth fell open. Was she serious? “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard m
e.”
“I didn’t kill anyone, Tami. You’ve known me since I was a kid. How could you even think I’d do something like that?”
“Wrong, Cass. I knew you when you were a kid. Then you disappeared for years and years. When you showed up back here, rumor has it you were . . . troubled, talking to dead people and whatnot.”
What?!
“Besides, the sheriff seems pretty convinced of your guilt.” She turned away.
“What are you talking about?” Cass balled her hands into fists. This was getting way out of hand.
Tami pinned her with a glare. “When the sheriff came to question us about Marge, we asked him about the killer. Naturally, we were concerned for our safety with a killer on the loose.”
Naturally. Witch.
“He told us we were perfectly safe, since they already had the killer under surveillance.”
Jim pulled to the curb, and Tami held her head high and her spine stiff as she walked down the stairs to the car.
Cass stood staring after her, mouth open in shocked silence. Was that what Sheriff Langdon was telling people? It might just be time to pay Otis a visit.
Luke ran up the steps to the deck. “Sorry for taking so long. I got caught up with a phone call from my boss.” He frowned after the BMW as it sped out of the lot. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Cass waved off the incident, but she couldn’t completely dismiss the hurt. She turned toward the restaurant and simply stood, staring at the door.
Luke placed a hand on her lower back, the warmth giving her strength. He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She looked into his concerned eyes and smiled. “I’m sure. Come on. Let’s eat.” As he held the door open for her to enter, she couldn’t help but feel like she was walking into the lion’s den.
Luke held the chair out for Cass to sit. They were close enough to the fireplace for the heat to chase away the chill from her wet clothes . . . and the few indiscreet stares that had followed her into the room. Their server greeted them, thankfully with no suspicious glares, and left menus while he went to get their drinks.
