I couldn’t tell her what I was thinking—that Nate was probably scheming to blow the whistle on the operation. The night Nell was killed, that had to be what he’d been working on. “And if Nate didn’t kill Nell, you think that—”
“Derek did.”
She got up and paced the porch. “They’re my brothers. I know you must think it’s warped, but how can I turn them in? It’ll kill my mother. It’ll ruin the family name. And the wedding—” She collapsed into the rocking chair again.
At least now I understood why she’d dropped out of the wedding party, but it didn’t help me figure out how she should handle this.
“Nell always seemed to ‘get’ my family. I could talk to her and she’d understand. I didn’t know what to do, so I asked her. She told me that everything would work out. She said she’d hold on to the ring for me while I figured out what to do.”
“And you think Derek found out?”
She nodded. “And if my brother wants something, especially something he thinks is his, he’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”
A chill crept up my spine. I wondered if doing whatever it took this time included murdering Nell.
Chapter 49
Mama showed up at the shop door and prevented us from any further discussion of the Kincaid family. She back-combed Miriam’s hair, giving it just the right amount of Texas volume. Meanwhile I finished the side seams of her dress, helping her into it when her hair and face were done.
She looked in the mirror, and I watched that sense of peace visibly flow through her. “It’s beautiful.”
The mint green linen, cut with a slight flare at the hem, had turned out exactly as I’d envisioned it. It brought out her Irish heritage, the rusty highlights in her hair vibrant and bold.
I sighed, relieved, knowing that my charm was working its magic with Miriam. She wanted peace. That’s what I’d given her. Whatever happened, it would all be okay for her. I hoped.
By the time she left, Mama and I had less than thirty minutes to make ourselves presentable for the wedding. “I’ll see you there,” she said, hurrying out the door to get herself ready. I took the stairs two at a time, speeding through a shower in record time, pulling my wild hair into a slightly less wild updo, and shimmying into my all-time-favorite shapewear slip.
With no time to deliberate, I chose the first dress I saw in my closet, an off-the-rack navy-and-white number that looked a little like the outfit Debbie Reynolds wore in Singin’ in the Rain. I grabbed hold of the hanger, but instead of coming off the closet rod, it didn’t budge. “What the—” I tried again. Stuck like glue.
It didn’t take long to realize why. “Meemaw! I don’t have time for this.”
Just like before the Kincaid Family Foundation gala, the clothes in my closet suddenly slid back and forth along the rod. It felt like we were on a rocking ship, the clothes sliding to the right as the boat tipped to starboard, crashing to the left as it lurched to port.
I lunged, reaching into the fray, trying to grab hold of a dress. Any dress. The wedding was going to start in twenty minutes! But each time I almost got hold of one, thinking I’d won the battle, the hullabaloo in the closet snowballed and I was forced to stagger back. “Loretta Mae Cassidy,” I said, stomping my bare foot on the cool hardwood floor. “Are you trying to make me late?”
The chaos in the closet stopped, but of course there was no answer. She made the pipes moan and fluttered curtains when it suited her, not when it suited me. But a chiffon floral print dress, courtesy of a Maximilian surplus sale, slipped off its hanger and fell to the floor.
I was too tired to think, anyway, so I grabbed it and slipped it over my head. It had a five-inch empire waist with black accent trim, a faux halter top where the fabric actually draped down the center of the back and reconnected with the waist, and a full skirt. Large lavender, pink, and cream flowers were complemented by touches of coral, green, and a lot of dark gray for contrast. The instant I zipped up the back, I felt flirty and feminine and wondered why I’d never worn it.
I adhered to Heidi Klum’s general philosophy of a garment accentuating either boobs or legs, but not both. I took a quick look in the mirror. The flirty dress hit my legs at midcalf, floating over my hips, long enough to cover the scrapes and cuts still visible on my legs, and while the V neck wasn’t deep, it did just enough to accent my 36Bs.
As I slipped on a pair of strappy lavender sandals, my mind processed everything Miriam had told me. It was so much easier to believe Derek could be responsible, but something about it didn’t feel right. It felt like part of the story was still missing.
I headed for the stairs, stopping short and bolting back to my dresser. I’d wrapped the little velvet jewelry bag in the stack of napkins I’d taken from Seed-n-Bead and had hidden it in my lingerie drawer the night before, but something in my gut told me I shouldn’t let it out of my sight. I grabbed the whole wad, shoved it in my purse, and raced for the hallway. My heels clicked as I hurried down the stairs. I really was late now. Why hadn’t I asked Mama to come pick me up? Why hadn’t I had the battery replaced in Meemaw’s old truck? Without a car, I’d have to walk. I grabbed the doorknob, yanked the door open, and bolted . . . “Oof!” . . . right into someone’s chest.
“Whoa. You’ve really got to be more careful,” a playful male voice said, gripping my shoulders, pushing me back slightly. I caught glimpses of a black jacket and slacks, white dress shirt, and solid, faintly metallic forest green tie. A shiver swept over my skin as I looked into the face of the dashing man darkening my doorstep.
Mercy.
“It’s my door,” I quipped, shocked at the flirtatious note in my voice.
“That it is. I thought—” Will stopped in midsentence as he got a good look at me, then let loose a low whistle. “Wow. You look . . . That’s a . . . I mean, wow. You look . . . stunning.”
The heat of his Rhett Butler accent made my heart give a little pitter-patter.
“I thought you might need a ride,” he said.
Aha, now I understood the drama in my bedroom. Meemaw had wanted to keep me here, though how she’d known Will was coming by was a mystery. The ceremony was set to start in two minutes. I grabbed my clutch and slammed the door behind me. “I’d love a ride.”
I tapped my foot impatiently as he got behind the wheel. The Catholic church was only a few blocks away, but it felt like hours. “Where’s Gracie?” I asked when I realized we were alone.
“She wanted to be there early to help Holly with the flower girl bit.” He bit his lip like he was keeping a secret.
I smiled, the coil of nerves in my stomach untwining a bit. “What?”
“Miriam dropped the sewing machine off after the funeral. Gracie’s been staying up late every night working. You’ve inspired her.”
I swelled with pride. “Really? What’s she making? Is she using a pattern? Tell me everything!”
“Whoa. I have no idea. She dragged the bins into her room and went to town. As long as she’s not working on her own wedding gown, we’re good. I want her thinking about graduating from high school and college, not white dresses and veils.”
“Good plan.”
Not a soul was in sight as we pulled up to the church. No surprise there, since the ceremony was probably already starting. We hurried through the double doors into the vestibule. “There you are! Where have you been? Never mind!” Ruthann grabbed me by the arm, wrenching me away from Will’s side. “We need your help. The veil Josie got was supposed to go with her first dress. It doesn’t work with this one!”
The veil! We hadn’t tried it on with the dress yesterday. I kicked myself at the oversight.
I threw an apologetic look over my shoulder at Will as Ruthann hauled me off. He lifted his hand in a motionless wave. Maybe it was my imagination, but he looked disappointed.
Ruthann dragged me into the bridal room off the side of the vestibule. Karen and her husband stood just outside the doorway. She looked beautiful in her dress,
glowing with a confidence I hadn’t seen in her up till now. She gave Ted a dreamy smile, which he returned with a kiss. Score one for dreams coming true.
He headed off to the sanctuary and Karen followed me into the room. Talk about bedlam. The room looked like a tornado had spun out of control, destroying everything in its path, except Josie. She stood smack in the center of the room, the skirt of her gown fanned out around her, looking serene amid the chaos.
“She’s here!” Ruthann announced.
I tossed my clutch aside as Miriam handed me the veil. We locked eyes for just a minute, silent encouragement passing between us.
Josie’s gown, with its silk and pleats and hand beading, was classic and ethereal. The veil was poufy and looked like it belonged with a prairie wedding dress.
I set to work reconstructing it, clearing out a space on the floor and laying it down. “Scissors,” I said, like a surgeon requesting a scalpel.
Someone immediately put a pair in my hand. I cut the tulle to elbow length, removing the second layer. I cleaned up the edges and stood. “Bobby pins.”
The bridesmaids were like highly trained OR nurses. Bobby pins magically appeared in my hand. I spun Josie around. Her hair was pulled back into a doughnut-sized bun, wispy strands of loose hair framing her face. I pinned the veil underneath the mound of hair on the back of her head, letting it cascade artfully down her back.
“Perfect!” Karen said.
Ruthann squealed.
We turned at the knock on the door. Josie’s mom came into the room. She fanned herself with her hand. “You look beautiful, m’ija,” she said in her thick Spanish accent.
Josie’s smile was as brilliant as the illegal diamonds on her finger. “Gracias, Mama.”
“Lista?” Mrs. Sandoval asked.
Josie let out an excited sigh. “Ready.” Before I left, she gave me a hug. “I put this dress on and every worry just melted away, Harlow.” She swung her arm out, gesturing to the bridesmaids. “I don’t know how you did it, but it’s like you somehow brought out the best in us.” She squealed, grinning up at the ceiling. “And in a few minutes, I’m going to be Mrs. Nate Kincaid.”
Chapter 50
Lucky for me, I didn’t have to choose between sitting with Mama or sitting with Will since they’d somehow managed to sit next to each other, and only five rows from the front of the church. Will stood, letting me pass by so I could take the spot between them. Many of the same people who’d been at Nell’s funeral were here to celebrate Josie and Nate’s wedding. The senator and Mrs. Zinnia James. Ted Mitchell.
The Kincaids were in the second pew on the right side of the church, while the members of the Sandoval family and their friends sat on the left side. Madelyn Brighton stood at the front of the church toward the left side of the altar. I leaned over to Mama, pointed to Madelyn, and whispered. “What’s she doing?”
“Looks like she’s taking a picture.”
She sure was. Her camera was aimed straight at us. She hadn’t mentioned that she was the official photographer of the wedding of the year in Hood County. I caught her eye, lifting my shoulders in a question. She responded with an innocent shrug, notching her chin up and smiling.
Seconds later, the music started with the traditional Canon in D and the processional began with Ruthann gliding down the aisle, followed by a stunning Karen. Madelyn snapped pictures, moving around the church like a ghost, shooting from all angles, like a photographer at a runway show.
Holly was next, looking magical in the dress I’d altered for her. Miriam paused at the end of the aisle before starting down. She gave a cursory smile. I glanced around, confident that I’d been the only one to notice how strained it was.
But Derek’s presence, standing next to his brother at the altar, was too much for me to ignore. The suspicions Miriam had shared with me about her brother put a damper on the event and the pride I felt when I looked at the bridal party’s dresses. The smug smile he directed at Ruthann as she floated to her place, followed by the surprised arch of his eyebrows as he noticed Karen, made the muscles in my jaw twitch. He passed over his niece, glowering as Miriam glided down the aisle and a wave of indignation crashed over me.
Miriam might not feel able to tell the sheriff what she suspected her brother of doing, but I could.
Will leaned over and whispered, “You okay?” just as the first notes of the Bridal March played.
As we stood and turned to face Josie, I grabbed my cell phone from my clutch. “Fine,” I whispered back. Josie started down the aisle on her mother’s arm and a collective gasp flowed through the church. She was captivating. Her hair, her figure, the dress—the whole nine yards, literally. It was all perfect.
Madelyn was at the end of the aisle snapping pictures. A warm glow surrounded Josie like a protective aura. I wondered if that would show up in Madelyn’s photographs.
Nate, waiting for her at the altar, somehow managed to look boyish in his black tux. The priest greeted the congregation and we sat. The bride and groom had eyes only for each other, but my gaze roved, taking in every detail.
I saw diamonds everywhere. On my mother’s right hand, where she wore the ring Hoss McClaine had given her. On Karen’s wedding band. Diamond studs in Miriam’s ears. Derek’s college ring, a miniature of his father’s, flashed with diamond specks. A sparkler glinted from Ruthann’s right hand. Mrs. Kincaid was weighted down with glistening stones on her left hand, around her neck, and at her earlobes.
Everywhere I turned, I caught streaks of brilliance.
My own naked hand immediately set to work on the material of my dress as my gaze went back to Derek. I felt like a pressure cooker, Miriam’s story bubbling inside me until I thought I was going to explode.
Will cupped his hand on mine. “You sure you’re okay?” he whispered.
I stopped the catlike clawing motion of my fingers. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Really? Because you’re giving Derek a death stare. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”
I forced my gaze back to the bride and groom. The priest was midway through his greeting, telling the story of how Josie and Nate had met, and I couldn’t keep it in a second longer. I leaned close to Mama and whispered, “What’s Sheriff McClaine’s cell number?”
Her eyes were tearing, but she managed to gape at me. “You’re going to call the sheriff now?” she whispered back.
I lifted my cell from my lap. “No, I’m going to text him.” My index finger was poised over the touch pad. “Mama?”
“What makes you think I have it?”
I had an answer ready. “It’s a small town. Don’t you have everyone’s number?”
She looked at me a beat too long, like she was trying to decide if I knew something I shouldn’t, but then she caved. “Tissue, please,” she said as she took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts.
I riffled through my clutch. No tissue. Just the napkins wadded around the velvet jewelry bag. Thinking about the ring got me thinking about Nell. From what I knew of her, she seized opportunities. Miriam had gone to her with a problem, and Nell had added two and two together and seen diamond-studded dollar signs in her head.
Mama held her hand out, waiting for the tissue. I pulled the napkin off the bag and started to hand it to her. The logo on the napkin stopped me cold. Gold lettering on a textured red background.
REATA RESTAURANT.
LEGENDARY. TEXAS. CUISINE.
My conversation with Zinnia James came back to me. She said she’d seen Nell at the restaurant. Nell had a stack of napkins from Reata in her bathroom. I could hear Nell’s voice as she said she’d never been there. I stared at the napkin. Then where had this come from?
The adrenaline rushing through me turned to ice. Nell had lied, but why?
I handed the napkin to Mama, who promptly dabbed her eyes, then showed me the sheriff’s number.
My text to the sheriff went out the next second: Whistle-blower, and I held my breath to see if he even
had his phone with him.
He shifted in his pew, reached in his jacket pocket, and a few second later, my phone vibrated. Who is this?
Harlow! I texted.
And? he messaged back.
I could sense his annoyance through the satellite waves. And, I wrote, grateful he couldn’t hear my irritation as my fingers flew across the touch pad. Derek K—illegal diamonds.
SEND.
My phone buzzed and I read his message. More. He was a man of few words.
I didn’t want to send him a thesis, but I didn’t want to be so obtuse he wouldn’t understand my point. Miriam didn’t know Nate was blowing the whistle on Derek. She went to Nell about her smuggling theory, but what if Nell was—
My phone vibrated.
“Shhh,” Mama hushed me, her finger to her lips.
I responded by angling toward Will, showing him the texts as I read the sheriff’s message. Miriam K knew . . . told Nell. Then I added one word: Blackmail.
McClaine turned to look at me over his shoulder, giving me a quick nod; then he dropped his phone back in his pocket. Over and out.
If Nell suspected that Derek was dealing in illegal diamonds, would she have tried to blackmail him? If she did, and Derek paid, she would have been able to pay back the money she’d borrowed from Karen and Ted to buy the bead shop.
But what if it was more than that? What if Derek had gotten Nell pregnant? It still didn’t explain why she’d lied about never having been to Reata, but she had been horribly wrong if she’d gotten it in her head that she and Derek plus baby made a family. From what Will and Mrs. James had both said, the Kincaids wouldn’t have welcomed a pregnant Nell into their home, Derek’s child or not.
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