Proposals and Poison

by Rachelle J. Christensen

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess. I have enough ties for the army, what’s one more going to hurt?”

  Gladys gave a loud guffaw that caused Lorea to jump, but she covered it well by pretending to swat at a fly. “I’m going to go finish up the dress I’m working on. Nice to meet you.”

  Hank nodded. “Well, I’ll be back to pick you up in a half hour.”

  “You can certainly stay if you’d like,” I said, motioning to the cozy chairs next to the desk of fabric swatches.

  Hank wrinkled his nose as if he’d smelled something bad. “I’ll leave those details to the women. Let them do what they do best.” He winked and sauntered out the door.

  “Thanks, dear,” Gladys called after him. When he’d gone, Gladys turned to me and smiled. “He is such a jewel. He treats me so well. I didn’t know a woman could find happiness this late in life.”

  “I’m happy for you both. Would you like to sit right here?” I guided her to the planning desk I had set up and began to go through different color choices and wedding themes.

  “So many to choose from,” Gladys said. “It sure is hard to decide, but I like purple and red.”

  I thought I heard Lorea snicker in the back room, probably laughing at the color choice. “Which of the two is your favorite?” I asked, flipping to a page of purples and another page of reds in two color sample books. “Purple and red are both strong colors. I recommend choosing one and then pairing it with accent colors.”

  Gladys nodded. “Good point. Maybe I could find a color in between those two.” She flipped through the books for a few more moments, then sighed. “Such a shame about that young lady, Lily Rowan. I understand she was going to have you plan her wedding. Makes me feel sad, sitting here in a chair where she might have sat.”

  I mentally jumped to follow her train of thought. Hopefully she wasn’t here to pry, but the keen look in her eyes made me wonder. She’d called just this morning to make the appointment. “Yes, I feel so bad for her family,” I said cautiously. “Did you know her?”

  “I’ve known the family for ages,” Gladys replied. “Lily was the sweetest girl. Everyone loved her. After her mother died, it was just those girls and their stepdad, and he didn’t do well with the grieving process. Went off and disappeared for a few months and showed up with a suntan and some Italian girlfriend, but she left a few months later.”

  “Oh dear, that’s terrible.” I straightened up in my chair, but then slouched because I didn’t want to look too eager.

  “I just can’t believe that someone murdered her.” Gladys closed the color samples and put her hands in her lap. “Hank still thinks it was an accident.”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. “That would make things a little easier on her family, I’m sure.”

  “Well, don’t be too certain that they didn’t have something to do with it.” Gladys wagged her finger at me. “Rose has always been a troublemaker, and it’s no secret that she and Lily didn’t get along.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lily was preparing to testify against Rose in the custody case over Jasmine,” Gladys said. “Lily believed that Javier should take care of his daughter instead of her own sister.”

  “I guess every family has their troubles,” I said. “I wonder why they didn’t get along.”

  “Some kind of foolishness, I’m sure.” Gladys paused and looked out the window. “I do believe that all this planning has tuckered me out. You’ve given me a lot of ideas, but maybe I could come back another day to do more.”

  “Sure, that’d be great.” I had to blink at the conversational whiplash; Gladys switched topics as fast as she’d flicked through the color samples. “Would you like to schedule a follow-up appointment now?”

  “I’d better check with Hank and see what he has going on first.” Gladys stood and patted my arm. “We’ll be in touch.”

  I waited until Gladys left before deciding to tidy up the desk, replacing all the fabric swatches she’d pulled from the binders. I couldn’t be sure, but Gladys seemed to have changed her mind rather quickly about having a professionally planned wedding. Maybe she and Hank would have a quiet ceremony instead. She wasn’t the first bride-to-be who felt overwhelmed by the choices and possibilities of a wedding and subsequent celebration, or the price tag that went along with it.

  The lines of my forehead scrunched together as I thought about what Gladys had said. Luke had to have known that Lily was going to testify, which explained why he’d been talking to Tony. It irked me that Luke couldn’t confide in me because of privacy regulations, but if he was confiding in Tony then he was making an exception for Tony’s cop status. I squeezed my phone, wondering if a text or a call would be most effective to get Luke’s attention.

  “Did she choose a wedding package?” Lorea asked as she entered the main room of the shop.

  “No, I’m not really sure what her angle is,” I said. “She had a bunch of questions about Lily ... or rather wanted to talk about her, I guess.”

  Lorea tilted her head. “That’s odd.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I’m still trying to figure out what to get Trixie and Derek for their wedding gift.”

  For each wedding, I did my best to think of a meaningful gift to present to the newly married couple. I’d put Lorea in charge of this wedding since she was working so closely with the bride and groom and their dogs to create the wedding attire. “There wasn’t anything that jumped out at Everybody’s Closet? I was hoping you could find something we could repurpose. Trixie seems like someone who would appreciate a unique gift.”

  Lorea shook her head. “I couldn’t find anything that they probably don’t already have.”

  “You know, I have something that I think will work,” I said. “My mom just emailed me a recipe she found on Pinterest for homemade dog bones.”

  Lorea turned up her nose. “I don’t want to make dog treats.”

  I laughed. “I’ll take care of it if you’ll sew up a canvas bag to put the treats in.”

  Lorea rolled her eyes. “Ay, okay. That means another trip to the fabric store, you know, ‘cause I don’t keep canvas around here.” She motioned to the clear bags of expensive silks, rayons, and chiffon in her sewing closet.

  “Thanks, Lorea,” I said. I added one more thing to my to-do list: Find out more info on Gladys. I had a feeling there was more to her than I’d originally thought.

  JANEEN’S PERFECT POTATO SALAD

  2 pounds whole potatoes (about 6)

  2 ribs of celery, chopped, (about 1 cup)

  1 medium onion, chopped, (about ½ cup)

  4 hard-boiled eggs, chopped

  Dressing:

  1 1/2 cups mayonnaise or salad dressing

  1 Tbsp vinegar

  1Tbsp mustard

  1 tsp salt

  1/4 tsp pepper

  Boil potatoes for 20 minutes, or until fork tender. Carefully drain the cooking water from the potatoes into a sink, and refill the pot with cold water, to cool the potatoes.

  While the potatoes cool, in a small bowl, stir together the celery, onion, mayonnaise, vinegar, mustard, salt, and pepper. Set the dressing to cool in the refrigerator.

  Peel the cooked potatoes, and chop into ½ inch cubes. When all of the potatoes are chopped, stir in the dressing. Store the salad in an airtight container in refrigerator.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

  When my phone started ringing, it startled me. Calming myself, I looked down and smiled at the picture of my mom, Laurel Pyper, on the screen. “Hey, Mom,” I answered. “How are you today?”

  “I can’t believe that we have less than a week to finish everything for the booth!” she said. “I have your dad putting prices on everything and printing up labels, because I decided I should make more of those little crocheted heart garlands.”

  That was my mom: bursting with life. She usually started a phone call mid-sentence, and today her sentence made my fingers buzz with tension. She was talking about the Ketchum
Arts Festival that was scheduled for next weekend on July nineteenth through the twenty-first.

  I checked my calendar to be sure that it was still Thursday. “Mom, we have a full week. I know it’s nerve-wracking, but I think you’ll be fine. You’ll have plenty of items to sell.”

  My mom had been working for over six months to prepare for the Arts Festival. The glorious gathering of artists of all kinds would take place in the Festival Meadows near the Sun Valley Resort next week. With everything that was happening with Lily’s death and the weddings I was planning, it hadn’t been on my mind like it needed to be this week. My family had attended the past several years, so when I moved back from San Francisco they made it clear that it was one of the events I couldn’t miss. And now, somehow, I’d been roped into working a booth with my mom and Lorea.

  “But what if we sell out? Or what if some of the things aren’t popular enough? I want to make sure we earn a profit,” she said.

  “Me too. But don’t worry. I think we’ll do fine, and if not, I can write it off as a business expense because the exposure will pay for itself.” I picked up the pamphlet with all the details about the Ketchum Arts Festival and thumbed through it, while my mom continued worrying through the phone.

  This year there would be over one hundred and fifty booths. I hoped that all of my mom’s hard work would pay off. The fees were steep at nearly four hundred dollars for the booth, but because we were splitting our booth between Mashed Potatoes and Crafts and Adrielle Pyper’s Dream Weddings, I felt it was a smart venture. Not that I needed extra business right now—the way this year was headed, I’d have to look at hiring another assistant, because Lorea’s dress designs continued to bring new customers and word-of-mouth referrals who wanted the exquisite, specialized dress only her hands could create.

  Mom’s side of the booth would be filled with creations that she’d worked on with me for several different bridal showers, weddings, and receptions. As if reading my thoughts, my mom paused and asked, “Adri, how many card packets do you have ready?”

  “I’m still working on them, so I don’t have an exact count, but I promise I’ll be ready.”

  “Oh dear, do you need some help? I just don’t know how we’re ever going to be ready.” I could picture my mom running her hands through the ends of her curly blonde hair, streaked with bits of gray.

  “Mom, we’ll make it. Just let me get through Trixie’s wedding this weekend, and then I’ll put my full concentration on it.”

  “Okay, sorry to bug you. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “Tell Dad hi and take a deep breath. I think this will be fun,” I lied.

  After I ended the call, I glanced at my craft table. It never seemed like I had time to craft or make cards like we used to. I flipped through the stack of handmade cards adorned with stamped images, lace, buttons, die-cuts, and ribbon. I loved getting a card in the mail that someone had made just for me. My mom was one of the most thoughtful people I knew, and she was always sending cards to people for any little reason—and the wonderful part of her habit was how much it affected others.

  There were twenty-five bundles of cards, each tied with brown twine. Thank goodness; I’d completed them months ago because there probably wouldn’t be any more added in the next week. The news of Lily’s murder must not have reached my parents yet, but my brother, Wes, would probably hear about it today. Hopefully my mom wouldn’t recognize the name of Lily Rowan, because if she remembered that she was my neighbor, Mom would be frantic with worry. After the life-threatening incidents I’d experienced, I guess I couldn’t blame her, but I hated to make her worry more than she already did.

  The bundles of cards fit neatly into a paper box. All I needed to do was print out a price tag and get all the information and brochures ready to hand out at the festival. When I’d signed up for the booth several months ago, it had seemed so far away. I probably should have listened to my inner worrier when it wondered how I’d be able to juggle a festival booth during the rush of wedding season.

  Luke called me at four o’clock, right about the time my mind was wandering back to the revelation I’d heard from Gladys about Lily testifying.

  “The judge asked for a recess. This case is almost wrapped up, and I’m ready for it to be over.” Luke’s voice sounded tired.

  “I’m sorry it’s been such a messy one.”

  “Me too. I think everyone was hoping it’d be done before the funeral, but now that it’s been postponed, Rose and Javier have found a way to drag the proceedings out a little longer.”

  “So the funeral has been postponed?”

  “Yes. I don’t understand why, but Tony assured me it was a good thing for everyone involved.”

  So he had been talking to Tony, but it obviously wasn’t a secret if he was able to mention it so casually. “Hmm. I’m not sure what to think of it all.”

  “Me neither, but that isn’t why I called. I was hoping that you could meet me for an impromptu lunch/dinner in Jimmy’s park?”

  “The one right across from the police station? Sure, my stomach was just complaining that I hadn’t fed it.”

  “I thought that might be the case. I didn’t get lunch either.” Luke chuckled. “Do you want to meet me inside Atkinson’s and we can get something from their deli?”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’ll leave in five minutes.” I hung up the phone, scurried around my shop, and told Lorea I might run a few errands after meeting Luke.

  “I’ll close up if you aren’t back,” she said. “How are you and Luke doing, anyway?”

  My back was turned to her when she asked the question, so I had a moment to compose my face into something calm and non-twitterpated. “Good. He’s been so busy with this case that we haven’t been on a real date in quite a while, but he’s been calling me. It’s kind of nice that he’s reaching out.”

  Lorea arched an eyebrow. “Why are you trying to hide how much you like him?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “I do like him, but I want to be careful. You know how he is.”

  “I do, but I think he’s changed. He seems different the last few times I’ve seen him with you.”

  “Thanks, but don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

  “Same to you, little Miss Matchmaker. I saw you looking in the big-and-tall section of the tuxedos for Tony.”

  “Hey, I was just curious on the availability. It didn’t have anything to do with you ... but now that you mention it, why do we even have a big-and-tall catalog?”

  Now it was Lorea’s turn to blush. Her tawny skin turned pink around her ears. “Weren’t you going somewhere?” She pointed at the door.

  I laughed all the way to my car. Maybe Tony did have a chance with Lorea—the self-proclaimed skeptic of true love. It’d be interesting to find out if Luke had noticed anything between the two of them. In my business, I’d become somewhat of an expert at detecting when people were attracted to each other. I’d never admit it to anyone, but me and some of the other associates at my old job used to make bets on how long certain couples would stay together. It was kind of scary how often I’d been right.

  It took me ten minutes to drive out of Sun Valley and into the little town of Hailey. There was an Atkinson’s grocery store in Ketchum right around the corner from my shop, but the brother store in Hailey had a wider selection and Luke and I both had a weak spot for the delicious food served in the deli. The green-and-red script of the store’s name brought back memories of my childhood visits to my grandma’s cabin. We loved stopping by Atkinson’s for a tub of Häagen-Dazs. The store had recently celebrated its fiftieth anniversary, but it had kept up with the times, offering new and trendy items as well as the standard staples, which thankfully included a mouthwatering supply of rich dark-chocolate bars.

  I stepped inside, and the blast of cool air felt good after the ride in my toasty vehicle. I spotted Luke near the deli, checking out the offerings of the day. He straightened when I started walking to
ward him, turned, and held up one hand in a little wave. I loved that he had sensed my presence. My stomach did a flip that had nothing to do with hunger.

  “Afternoon,” he said, taking my hand.

  “Hey, thanks for the invite. What’s on the menu today?”

  His hand was cool and firm against mine. “I like the looks of the club sandwich—” He pointed toward the deli. “—with some of this potato salad.”

  “Hmm, that does look good. The potatoes aren’t half-mashed like some salads I’ve seen.” I examined the potato salad—I was picky about that, and since we were in Idaho, I felt that I could be. My aunt Janeen made the best potato salad with medium sized chunks of potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, and just the right amount of sauce so it was neither too soggy nor too dry. “I think I’ll try some.”

  “Are you sure?” Luke teased. “The way you were cross-examining those potatoes, I’m not sure how they’ll taste.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Hopefully they’ll pass muster.”

  We each scooped up a serving of the potato salad and walked over to the counter to order our sandwiches. Luke ordered a club on wheat, and I ordered a turkey bacon avocado on rye. After we checked out, Luke took my hand and we walked down the street to a tiny grassy area with a few benches. There was an archway of wrought iron that spelled out “Jimmy’s Park.” I knew the place in passing, but had never taken the time to actually sit down and enjoy the atmosphere. There were strawberry plants bordering a hedge dotted with marigolds and some kind of lily. The park was right across the street from the Blaine County courthouse, which was right next to the old courthouse under construction.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” Luke said. “I hope you won’t give up on me, because I’m planning to take you out on a real date soon.”

  The wrapper on my sandwich crinkled as I pulled it open. “I’d like that. I won’t give up on you, because I understand; it’s a busy season for me too. I had a potential client come in just today.”