by Hillary Avis
It was only then, when she was comfortable in bed, that Willow’s attention wavered. Her eyes slid back and forth, from Allison to the other side of the room, where the desk was tucked into an alcove beside the closet, the door to which was slightly ajar.
A chill ran down Allison’s spine. She swung her legs out of bed and grabbed a paperweight from the desk, holding it down close to her side as she edged toward the sliver of dark. She flicked on the light switch at the same moment that she used her toe to swing the closet door wide open, bracing herself for an attack.
Inside, her clothes swung limply on hangers, a jumble of shoes underneath where she’d rummaged around earlier looking for the pen. That’s why the door was open—she’d left it that way during her search. Relief washed over her at the realization. She shut the door, patted Willow on the head, and slid back between the cool sheets.
Her eyes drifted closed and she was almost asleep when she heard Willow whine. She opened one eye to check on her. Willow was still staring in the direction of the closet. Allison sighed. “Is it really going to be like this all night?”
Willow gave a sharp, insistent bark and hopped to her feet, still focused on the closet. Allison debated whether or not to indulge her, but when Willow barked again, she admitted defeat and got up to open the closet again.
“See? Nobody’s in here. Everything’s fine. Go to sleep.”
Willow pushed past her to the desk alcove and sat down beside the chair. Mystified, Allison closed the closet and stared at her. “What is it? What are you worried about?”
Willow opened her mouth in a wide doggy grin, panting, as though Allison finally understood.
“Do you think something is in there?” Allison mused aloud. Maybe Willow smelled a mouse nesting in one of the desk drawers. She pulled them out one-by-one, holding them open so Willow could inspect the contents. When the dog was satisfied, she closed them again and held up her hands in a shrug. “See? No bad guys in the desk.”
Willow rested her chin on the desk’s surface, her noisy panting momentarily quieted by the position. The sides of her mouth began to leak slightly as she stared at the bouquet of pens and pencils in the holder.
“Don’t drool on the—oh!” Allison broke off in surprise. Of course! She felt through the pens in the holder and found the soft, smooth, wooden barrel she was looking for. She pulled out the memory pen and rolled it between her fingers. Willow had led her right to it—once Allison bothered to stop and pay attention. She dropped to her knees beside the desk and threw her arms around Willow’s neck. “You found it, you magnificent, perfect creature.”
Chapter 32
Wednesday
By the time Wednesday rolled around, Allison had made up her mind—a dog as noble as Willow deserved an owner as kind as Julio. It didn’t hurt that Julio had campaigned for the adoption during her shifts for the past two days, bribing Willow with treats and Allison with a bouquet of fresh peonies from Brandon’s boutique. If Brandon seemed excited about the dog during Emily’s bridal appointment, she’d tell him that Willow was theirs.
She left the dog in the back yard, though. All that fluff and nonsense would be too distracting from the mission at hand—finding Emily the perfect gown. Well, that, she had to try not to gloat that she’d found the pen before Elaine could get her hands on it. She’d hidden it somewhere Elaine would never find it, and she’d wedged the Guardians book behind the card catalog of errors in the attic, too, so even if Elaine tried to access her memories again, it’d take her hours to find.
A spring in her step, she took the river path across the highway toward The Big Day, which faced Claypool Creek. When she drew closer to the address listed on the business card, she realized that the boutique occupied the first floor of the elaborate Victorian that all the kids had called “the scary house” and crossed the street to avoid when she was growing up. It had sat empty, windows dark and paint peeling, for so many years that Allison hardly recognized it in its current form.
Painted, fittingly, in “something blue” and trimmed in shades of pale pink and cream, it looked good enough to eat, like a house-sized petit four. Under a hand-lettered sign that read “The Big Day — Bridal Boutique” hung a smaller plaque. Historic Claypool Home, Est. 1880. Emily and Elaine were already standing on the porch, waiting for her.
“So nice you decided to join us.” Elaine peeled back her upper lip from her teeth in an insincere smile. She wore a black linen dress and had on the jeweled bracelet she’d worn on Saturday. Matching earrings swung from her ears, the same shade as her lipstick. Allison had to force herself not to stare at the missing stone in the bracelet.
Emily hugged Allison, enveloping her in the scent of orange blossoms and vanilla. “You’re not late. We were just a little early.”
“Morning, ladies!” Brandon swung open the front door, a little silver tray with four champagne flutes balanced in one hand. He gave Allison a broad smile and then squinted at Elaine. “You must be—wait, I know you!”
Elaine raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Oh? I don’t recall.”
“You sold me this house!”
Allison jerked her head toward Elaine, her mouth dropping open. Elaine had once owned the Claypool home? Emily didn’t seem surprised, though, and Elaine just shrugged, shaking her head as though it didn’t ring a bell.
“We met during the inspection? I think you were up to your elbows cleaning out the attic—probably too busy to remember me. I hope you like what I’ve done with the place! Let’s toast.” Brandon beamed and held out the tray toward them. A raspberry garnished the rim of each fizzing mimosa. Allison passed one to Emily and took a glass for herself. If ever there was a situation that called for a drink, this was it. Brandon waited until Elaine got hers and then raised the last glass. “Cheers to the beautiful bride!”
They clinked glasses, Allison still reeling, and Brandon ushered them all inside. The interior of the boutique was just as charming and tasteful as the exterior. A curvy, cream-colored sofa stretched under a long bay window in what was once the parlor, and ornate brass racks of dresses lined the walls in every shade of white and ivory as well as a pastel rainbow of tulle and chiffon that took her breath away.
“What do you think?” Brandon asked, directing his question to Elaine. “Different, right?”
Elaine clutched her purse to her stomach with her free hand, looking like she was ready to bolt out the door. Her words were clipped as she pretended to be interested in Brandon’s renovations. “Very pretty.”
Emily, oblivious, sipped her mimosa. At the taste, her eyes rolled back in her head. “Suddenly I’m so glad we made the trip down here.”
“Yay!” Brandon pressed his palms together and fluttered his fingertips in miniature applause, then shooed them toward the sofa. “Sit down, sit down! We have a wedding to plan and time’s a wasting.”
“We’ve been ready for half an hour,” Elaine muttered between her teeth, her smile still pasted on.
Allison ignored the dig and found a spot on the sofa as far away from Elaine as possible. “Your shop is so gorgeous! It’s hard to believe this is even the same house.” A little dig of her own.
“I was lucky,” Brandon said, shooting a sparkling smile at Elaine. “The house is what tempted me to Remembrance, actually. I mean, could you imagine what it’d cost to build something like this new? These high ceilings, this trim? Ugh, it was just begging to be a bridal shop. The gowns are here in the parlor, the boring boy clothes”—he pulled a face—“are in the dining room, and the bridal party dresses are in the living room. And there’s an apartment upstairs, perfect for one.”
“Two,” Allison said, and winked at him. “Don’t forget Julio.”
He grinned and mini-clapped again, then pointed at her and corrected, “Three. Don’t forget Willow. I cleared out the second bedroom and made her a whole doggy lounge for her to sleep in. I’m installing some baby gates to keep her out of the shop, but she’ll have the run of the back yard. Julio’s going to build Sis a sand b
ox to dig in. She’s going to love it—if we get her,” he amended.
“She’s yours,” Allison said. She hadn’t made up her mind until that exact moment, but hearing Brandon include Willow as a member of his family sealed the deal. She’d tell Rachael as soon as she got home that Julio and Brandon should have the dog. Their kind of love was enough. “As soon as Julio is settled here, Willow is all yours.”
Brandon gave a delighted squeal. “I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him! What kind of food does she like? Do you think she’ll bark at customers?”
Allison broke into a grin. “All you need to know is that she’ll literally do anything for peanut butter. It’s her kryptonite.”
“I thought we were here for a gown, not a dog.” Elaine’s expression and tone were light, but she was clearly annoyed.
“Relax, enjoy the champagne. I’m going to take our bride in the back and doll her up.” Brandon made a face at Allison and whisked Emily through a curtained-off doorway.
The instant they were gone, Elaine dropped the act. Her fake smile fell away and she narrowed her eyes at Allison. “You think you’re so clever. It’s only a matter of time, though.”
“Until what?” Allison asked, blinking innocently. Elaine was clearly rattled by Brandon—maybe she’d slip up and show her hand.
“You know what—until I get it all back.” Elaine leaned toward her on the couch, a sick, smug smile on her face, and Allison couldn’t stop the impulse to scoot further away. “The dog can’t protect the library if she’s not there, can she? It’ll just be me and you...and only one of us knows where the pen is hidden.”
Elaine was right. Only one of them did. She was just wrong about which one. But though Allison was certain the pen was safe, that didn’t mean she was safe. Elaine had been willing to kill once before, so she’d surely be willing to do it again. Maybe Allison had been too quick to let Willow go. “It could be weeks before she moves in with Julio and Brandon.”
Elaine gave a harsh laugh. “Don’t worry, I have time.”
Brandon peeked around the curtain. “Are we ready? Here comes the bride!” He held the curtain open so Emily could come through to the center of the room. Allison gasped when she saw the gown Emily wore. It was a ballgown, the same silhouette Emily had tried at Bridal Depot, but that was where the similarities ended. The diaphanous netting of the skirt floated around Emily like mist, and the off-the-shoulder neckline made her look like a fairy princess. Brandon had clipped up Emily’s caramel waves into a beautiful, messy chignon to show off her shoulders.
“It’s perfect,” Allison gushed. “It fits you like a glove.”
“Mom likes it!” Brandon crowed. “But the important question is—does the bride?”
Judging by Emily’s pink cheeks, she was enchanted by it, too. She bit her lip, her eyes on Elaine. “What do you think?”
Elaine tilted her head to the side and looked Emily up and down. Brandon, sensing her hesitation, clipped a delicate lace veil to the back of Emily’s head and spread it out behind her. Then he handed her a bouquet of silk roses from a nearby vase. Emily’s hand trembled slightly as she held them, the pale silver velvet leaves quivering as she stood there in front of them.
“How about now?” Brandon asked. “Mom loves it, Bride loves it...how does Mom-in-Law feel?”
Elaine slid a look over at Allison, who held her breath, hoping Elaine would say yes. “Maybe we should see something simpler. The Emily I know isn’t so fussy.”
Allison saw Emily’s face fall momentarily, though she recovered quickly and handed the bouquet back to Brandon.
“It’s not fussy! It’s gorgeous!” Allison protested indignantly.
Elaine frowned at her. “You want her to get the first dress she sees?”
“No—I want her to get the dress she falls in love with. Anyway, this isn’t the first dress. She saw a bunch with you on Sunday. If she wants—”
“Mom,” Emily interrupted. “Don’t worry about it. Elaine’s being very generous, and I want her to be happy with the choice, too.”
Allison felt hot tears rising and shook her head to suppress them. “If she won’t pay for it, I will.” She didn’t know how, but she’d figure it out.
“I only suggested she try on something more to her taste,” Elaine said very slowly and simply, enunciating every syllable like she was speaking to a very young child. “Something classier.”
Allison looked over at Emily, who was staring at herself in the three-way mirror, her expression pained. “You should get it, honey.”
Emily gave her a tight smile. “It’s fine—really.” She started back into the dressing room, her head bowed.
“Wait,” Elaine said sharply. “What if we have your dad weigh in on it?”
Allison jerked her head around to stare at her. If Elaine so deeply disliked the dress, why would she care what Paul thought of it?
Brandon nodded enthusiastically. “Genius! I’ll frost this cupcake again and you can snap a photo.” He moved to reattach Emily’s veil.
Elaine stood, gathering her purse from the sofa. Allison assumed she was going to take a photo with her phone, but instead she tucked the purse under her arm and strode toward the entryway, pausing only to say over her shoulder, “I’ll go get him. Wait here.”
Chapter 33
“What?” Allison blurted out as the front door to The Big Day slammed shut behind Elaine.
“Refills while we wait for the queen to return?” Brandon gestured to their empty mimosa flutes.
Emily grinned. “I think I left mine in the dressing room.”
“Don’t move a muscle—I’ll be back in a flash.” Brandon plucked Allison’s empty glass from between her fingers and whisked off through the curtain in the back, leaving her stunned and numb on the sofa.
Emily sank down next to her, the gown’s skirt ballooning around her thighs. She smoothed it affectionately. “I really do love this dress. I hope Dad does, too.”
“Why did she go get him?” Allison wondered aloud. “Shouldn’t I be the one to get him?”
“Well, you don’t have a car.” Emily’s reasoning was so matter-of-fact that it almost convinced Allison not to worry about Elaine’s motives. Almost.
“Will Golden Gardens even let non-family sign him out?”
Emily stared at her. “Elaine is family. Myra knows that. Why are you being so weird about it? Is it the head injury?”
“I’m not being weird!” Allison crossed her arms and leaned back on the sofa as Brandon returned with fresh drinks.
“Round two,” he said cheerfully, setting the mimosas down on the table. “Let’s toast to the most gorgeous wedding Remembrance has ever seen.”
“Cheers to that!” Emily clinked glasses with him.
Allison sat up, blinking in surprise. “You’re getting married here in town?”
“Of course!” Emily carefully sipped her drink, holding a napkin underneath her chin to prevent any orange juice from dripping on the dress. “Where else would we get married?”
“I assumed Portland—or Molalla or wherever Zack’s from, since Elaine’s footing the bill.”
Emily grinned. “It turns out Zack’s dad’s side is from here! Elaine was just telling me out on the porch while we were waiting for you. She actually inherited this house after her husband died. She sold it when Zack went to law school to pay his tuition. It’s so funny you bought it from her,” she added to Brandon.
“You should have seen it. Completely stuffed with junk. Grass higher than the fence. Broken windows, rotting floors.” Brandon rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to say it when she was here, but she let this place crumble. I had a moral obligation to buy it.”
Allison’s heart thudded in her chest as she listened to Emily and Brandon gossip. So Elaine hadn’t been drawn to Remembrance out of a general interest in local history. She was drawn by a very specific interest—an interest in her husband’s family. No wonder she’d volunteered to catalog and organize the artifacts
for Remembrance’s Founding Day display. They were family heirlooms, just like the box of stuff she’d stolen from Allison’s dining room. Just like the pen.
A lightning bolt of realization zapped up her spine. She set down her mimosa glass before her shaky hand spilled it all over Emily. “I have to go,” she said abruptly.
“Mom?” Emily called after her. But Allison was already halfway out the door. “Where are you going?”
But Allison didn’t pause to answer—she practically flew down the path to the sidewalk and then sprinted toward the highway, calculating the shortest route home in her head. She could take Riverview to Golden Gardens and then turn eastward, or she could take the highway and go down Rosemary Street itself. She opted for the latter, since it would afford her a view of the library long before she reached the house. A view of Elaine.
Because Allison knew that Elaine hadn’t gone to Golden Gardens to pick up Paul. Or at least, not yet. She’d gone to the library to steal back the pen. It was Elaine’s best opportunity, because she knew Allison wasn’t there—and she thought she knew right where the pen was hidden. That was the only explanation for why Elaine would offer to pick up Paul to get an opinion on a dress she clearly loathed.
Willow would stop her, though. Or at least, hold her off long enough for Allison to get there.
She slowed to a walk along the highway when she ran out of breath, but she picked up the pace again when she turned onto Rosemary Street and could see the red Acura parked outside her house in the distance. She jogged, huffing and sweating, all the way down the block and into the house. An eerie silence rested uneasily in her ears.
Why wasn’t Willow barking?
She heard a clatter from the dining room and edged down the front hall toward the noise. When she reached the doorway, she saw Elaine with her back turned, yanking book after book off the shelves onto the floor.
“Where is it?” Elaine muttered under her breath.
“Where’s Willow?” Allison asked, her voice surprisingly steady and clear even to her own ears.
