Veiled in Death

by Stephanie Blackmoore

  Not that I really would lift even a finger to do so. I’d pledged to Truman, Jesse, and my fiancé not to engage in any rogue sleuthing. I would let Helene think I was looking into her husband’s death, and I would not refuse any information that came my way. But I wouldn’t engage in any fact-finding for her. I wondered if she really thought I could make a break in the case, or if this was just a way for her to attempt to open up an information channel from Truman to me to her. This theory was way more likely.

  “Okay.” I watched Helene’s tense shoulders sag in relief at my apparent acquiescence to her request. “But I’m not going to be a real gumshoe for this. I guess I hear things now that I’m involved in the current investigation. And we all agree these horrible events seem linked. But I won’t be asking people questions and turning this into a real mission to get new info.”

  But Helene had me once again. She stood, triumphant, and surveyed the kingdom she was once due to inherit. “I know you well, Mallory. Don’t forget it. You can’t erase the years you spent with my son, and the years I’ve had to work with you in Port Quincy. I know your nature. And if I’m right, your inveterate nebbiness will help solve this decades-old cold case.”

  And with that Helene swept from the room. Baxter seemed to give me a final doggie smile as he trotted in her wake.

  I guess she’s right.

  I started to laugh with a rueful shake of my head. I’d been had by Helene again. A tiny part of me was beginning to doubt she was the killer, after all. I suppose her visit had been something of a public relations mission, as well.

  “Well played, Helene, well played.”

  But I had one more trick up my sleeve. I hadn’t promised Helene I wouldn’t be relaying the information to anyone else. I slid my phone from my pocket and jabbed at the second entry on my speed dial. Truman would know every scrap of information Helene had fed to me today. I’d learned my lesson over the years. Truman would be incandescently mad if he knew I was deputizing myself in the name of Helene Pierce. This would defuse the situation.

  “Unreal. But not unexpected.” Truman’s voice was scratchy from the poor connection. “I suppose if you don’t really sniff around, there’s no harm in letting Helene think you’re on the case regarding Richard. Which has, officially, because of the veil, been reopened.” He laughed. “And I know everything, Mallory. Don’t you forget it. Of course, I knew that Helene was aware of Richard’s affair. That silly woman thought she could get something over on me?” Truman gave another mirthless laugh, then filled me in on the news that the pieces of material in the earth were indeed part of a very, very old distillery. “Whether it’s Ebenezer Quincy’s famed equipment remains to be seen.”

  I got off the phone and ignored the little begging voice nagging my subconscious.

  Why didn’t you tell him about Tabitha’s observations and memories from so long ago?

  But I batted those concerns away. Truman was already suspicious of my innocent friend. I wasn’t going to throw her into the fire of his laser-beam consideration. I was rewarded for my choices with a lovely knot in the pit of my stomach.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After all of the murder, mayhem, and mess of June, I decided to take a break. The morning after a particularly difficult off-site wedding that Rachel and I staffed ourselves had pushed me to the brink. The show still went on, even when one was participating in a murder investigation. But I was ready for an easy Sunday. I was glad Pia had the chance to grieve with her mother and her sister, Tabitha. But I felt a frisson of guilt counting down the days until she returned to my too busy business. I knew the Battles women had had an undoubtedly difficult time burying their matriarch, Claudia. I wondered if it was too soon to pay a visit to their store.

  Yet I found myself in front of the Antique Emporium on my early Sunday walk. My actions mimicked the crowd that had witnessed Helene rip the veil from my hands. I carried a coffee and a scone, and tried to enjoy the somewhat crisp air before the sun got too high.

  I finished the yummy pastry as I stood before the usually pretty window display fronting one side of the Antique Emporium. Today the window art was a tad bit dusty. It was understandable. I gasped as a hand shot out with a feather duster and attacked a tidy display of brooches. June looked up from her ministrations and gave me a sweet, if somewhat sad, smile.

  “Come in, come in.” She mouthed the words through the glass and beckoned me into her store with a wave of her feather duster.

  “Thanks.” I slipped through the glass door she opened for me, the We’re Closed sign still firmly in place. “I don’t want to bother you before you’re officially open.” I gulped. “And my condolences about Claudia, once again.”

  June pulled away from the hug with two beads of moisture coalescing in her eyes. “I know, Mallory. And please don’t feel any responsibility for what happened at Cordials and Cannonballs. It was a lovely day, up until the reenactment. And Claudia died in her element, taking an active role in getting people interested in history. She was doing what she loved best.”

  June’s speech was so lovely and cathartic I soon found myself weeping. It was only a few minutes and a few tissues later that I realized that I’d attempted to comfort her, and it had resolved the other way around. I also realized my catharsis was accompanied by a Raffi children’s song played over the speakers.

  “This music.” I gestured around me.

  “Oh! Miri needs some low-key entertainment while I clean.” June led me around the cash register to a small play yard where the adorable baby lay on her tummy, propped up on her elbows. She entertained herself by looking into a little mirror rimmed with ladybugs and flowers. She gave a sweet laugh when her foster mother came into view and promptly rolled over to her back, her little hands held up in the air as if asking to be picked up.

  “I heard you’re getting badgered to make a decision on having kids.” June never tore her eyes away from her foster daughter and ended up picking up the baby and putting her in another carrier. “I hope I’m not too forward.” June paused and set down her organic cleaner. “Wait until you’re ready, Mallory. It was tough raising Tabitha and Pia without their fathers around.” She gave Miri a fond pat. “It’s actually easier now to be a foster mother, despite my age and still being single. I can give Miri the time and attention she needs now that my business is on track. Make sure you and Garrett create time for you and Summer first. Don’t let others’ expectations define you.”

  June took in my quivering lip and rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Mallory, I stuck my foot in it, didn’t I. My daughters are always telling me to stop giving advice.”

  But it was the opposite. Once again, June displayed her excellent emotional IQ. “It’s fine. In fact, it’s better than fine. This is just what I needed to hear.”

  June gave me another hug and her face brightened. “Oh! Those earrings you found with Bev? I unearthed the matching necklace.” She ducked behind the front jewelry case, careful to hold Miri’s head. “Here. They’ll look lovely on you, no matter what season you and Garrett pick for your wedding. And after all that’s happened with that veil, I want you to have this set free of charge.”

  I regarded the heavy and faceted clear crystal earrings. The necklace featured variegated beads of the same material. It would be the perfect piece, falling somewhere on the style spectrum between a subtle necklace and a statement piece.

  “Thank you, June. This means so much.” I reached for the necklace, my heart full. But something on my finger caught my eye.

  “Oh! My ring.” The pretty antique diamond ring that Garrett had procured from this very store was missing a little side stone. I gave a small laugh. “This month has been like a lesson in karmic tallies. One good thing happens, and sure enough, right after, something crummy comes up to balance it out.”

  “Let me see. ” June’s eyes grew wide. “I know this piece. Garrett got it New Year’s Eve day for you. Claudia actually made the sale. Well, I’m going to fix this stone, too, Mallor
y. The little diamond never should have fallen out.”

  She whisked the tasteful bauble under the counter and my heart skipped a beat. I recalled wanting to hide the ostentatious ring Keith had gotten me, with all three of its blingy, Kardashian-like carats. But I love this little ring and felt a weird emotional tear as June spirited it away.

  “I’ll call you as soon as it’s fixed,” she promised.

  I nodded my thanks. The nosy gossipmongers of Port Quincy would have a field day with my suddenly naked ring finger. But I had a secret weapon in my arsenal: Bev. I’d tell her the real reason the ring was temporarily missing, and she’d set the record straight.

  “Oh! There’s one more thing.” All of June’s talk—about focusing on Garrett, Summer, and myself as a family unit first—had me thinking. I couldn’t get the ethereal yet casual sundress from this store out of my mind. I would start following my gut, beginning now.

  “The dress. Do you still have it?” I eagerly peered around June into the somewhat darkened depths of the store.

  Uh-oh.

  My spirits sank as June slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Mallory. I sold it just yesterday.”

  The knowledge hit me like a sack of potatoes. I felt myself deflating, my muse gone. Then I gently mentally chastised myself. Here I was, designing my whole wedding around a dress. At least I knew that beyond our vows, the important part was the life we were building together. I could wed in any pretty dress, or even a pair of jeans. I steeled my shoulders and brushed off my surprising remorse over the sold sundress.

  I headed home with a mostly full heart. June had filled my head with important considerations, and missing out on the dress had taught me an important lesson, too. I’d start listening to my heart and following my gut. In these crazy times, it was as good a compass system as any. The muse of a dress was gone. But I could still try to replicate the same casual yet magical aura for my big day.

  Which I now firmly agreed should be moved up. It didn’t matter if Jesse would be able to resume work on the cottage. What mattered was cementing together the family I loved. I reached home with a spring in my step. And an hour later, and after a few phone calls and texts, I’d amassed my family at Thistle Park. Truman was the only absent member, busy with his cases, of course, even on a Sunday. After a quick and heartfelt private chat with Summer and Garrett, the three of us had something to announce.

  “We’re moving up the wedding.” Summer crowed out the news to Lorraine, my mother and Doug, and Rachel. We accepted the whoops and hollers, and all tucked in to a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese and fruit.

  Garrett and I made hasty but meaningful plans for the small wedding we’d now hold the day after Independence Day. I felt lighter than ever, despite the week’s events.

  “We’ve been so silly.” Garrett tenderly tipped up my chin as we stood together on the back porch.

  “I know, right? What are we waiting for?” I beamed. “This is it.” We shared a sweet kiss and returned inside to celebrate with our families.

  And an hour later I got another lovely surprise. Bev arrived at the house with a garment bag in tow.

  “I have a present for you, Mallory.” Her eyes darted to my mother and she flinched for a nanosecond. “I hope you won’t think I’m being too forward.”

  I accepted the bag with a beating heart. My family gathered around as I unzipped the bag.

  Whoa.

  The magical sundress lay within. I felt my sharp intake of breath and all was still. The lovely moment was dimmed only by my continued preoccupation with others’ expectations. I felt my head turn, unbidden, to take in my mother’s reaction. I knew she resented Bev’s forays into helping me plan my wedding, and our friendship in general. But she surprised me by taking my hand and helping me remove the dress from the bag. She held the garment up to my frame, tears coalescing at the corners of her eyes.

  “I see what you mean. It’s just perfect, Mallory.” I rewarded my mother with a bone-crushing hug. And was shocked when she did the same for Bev.

  “I apologize, Bev. I know you have Mallory’s best interest at heart, and that’s all that matters.”

  Our impromptu brunch party got into full swing. My heart was more full than ever. I went to bed that evening with a newfound clarity, and an appreciation for my family and friends. The same people I wanted with me when Garrett and I wed. I drifted off to sleep surrounded by my two snoozing cats. All was at peace. Things were looking up.

  * * *

  And the final surprise was a call the next day summoning me back to the Antique Emporium. June had repaired the lost stone in a jiffy, the turnaround time almost too good to be true. I set off for downtown, this time in the Butterscotch Monster with Rachel at my side.

  “I’m thinking of shimmery emerald-green dresses, just below the knee. And peep-toe heels. Ooh! And sequined headbands. Maybe matching ankle bracelets.” Rachel went on and on, dreaming and scheming up plans for color themes for my now very soon-to-be wedding.

  “I’ll let you and Pia decide,” I said with a giggle, “since you’re still my official wedding planners. And to be honest, I just want to stand before you all with Garrett and Summer and get it done.”

  Rachel was temporarily crushed. “C’mon, Mallory. You need to weigh in just a little bit. I saw your reaction to your dream dress. You have to have some opinion on the rest of the wedding style.”

  I gave my sister a grateful smile. “Honestly, that all sounds lovely. It will really accentuate the lush June season we’ve had, and echo all of the green from the garden.”

  My sister sat back on the tan bench seat, somewhat mollified. “Good! I’ll order this all up.”

  “Oh!” I realized I hadn’t told my sister. “Tabitha will be a bridesmaid, too.”

  I frowned at my sister’s exaggerated eye roll. “Oh, come on yourself, Rach. You just witnessed Mom and Bev bury the hatchet yesterday. Don’t you want to do the same with Tabitha? Especially since you’re such good friends with Pia now?”

  But Rachel wouldn’t commit to ending her feud, one whose origins I barely even remembered. Still, my sister was willing to play ball, even if it was just a little bit. “Fine. I’m guessing Tabitha’s about a size eight. I guess I’ll order her a dress, too.”

  We exited the car and made our way to the Antique Emporium.

  Are you kidding me?!

  There in our path stood Becca Cunningham, looking a bit worse for wear than when I’d last seen her. She perked up a bit when she saw Rachel and me headed her way. But her eyes also bore a keen, hungry look.

  Here we go again.

  “Mallory! Rachel!” Becca dug her perfect French tips into the flesh of my forearm. I gently extricated myself from her grip and took a healthy step back.

  “What can we do for you, Becca?” I regretted my choice of words immediately.

  “You can give me some insight into that hideous woman, Helene.” Becca’s face clouded over with anguish. “You must have some tips for me in my current situation.” She grabbed my hand and Rachel’s and pulled us across the street to one of Port Quincy’s newest coffee shops. The shop smelled divine, and featured a wide variety of cold-brew coffees. I’d been meaning to check it out, but now wasn’t the day. It was time to work on my boundaries.

  “Becca, we have to go. We’re due to pick something up at the Antique Emporium. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to help you with Helene some other time.”

  Rachel took a different tactic. She glared at her Michael Kors watch and repeatedly offered up loud and withering, maudlin sighs. But Becca wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  “Helene cut off Keith’s inheritance because she found out we’re trying to adopt a baby.”

  Okay, that was a horse of a different color. Becca had succeeded in reeling me in. Rachel, too. We obediently parked ourselves at a small table, ready to help Becca do battle.

  “She what?!”

  Becca nodded miserably, her black pearl earrings swishing around in her perfe
ctly dyed platinum hair. All but an inch of dark part she favored maintaining, giving her look a bit of a retro Heather Locklear flavor, circa Melrose Place. “She said we weren’t trying hard enough.” Becca made an understandably yucky face. “And that there was no way she was passing on the family wealth to someone not really part of the family.”

  My vision dimmed a bit as a lightning bolt of pure rage skittered across my brain.

  The nerve of that woman.

  “But any child you adopt will be your family. And if she can’t get that,” I added, “maybe Helene shouldn’t be part of your family.”

  “Try telling that to Keith.” Becca spat out her rejoinder. “He keeps trying to convince her. Helene puts way too much stock in her lineage as a so-called descendant of Ebenezer Quincy. But he doesn’t realize one thing. He’ll never change his mother’s mind, or her heart. Helene has a lump of stone where everyone else has a heart.”

  I regretted allowing Helene to enter my home and twist me into playing some reconnaissance game.

  “And with all of these crimes happening?” Becca gave a furtive glance around the coffee shop. “Keith is dredging up memories of his father’s death. I think he remembers how hard it was on him to have his dad suddenly gone at the age of thirteen. And now he’s clinging doubly hard to his mother When all he should be doing is clinging to me!”

  I still wonder what Keith knows.

  And Becca had the answers for me. “I knew Richard Pierce was killed in a car accident.” Becca lowered her voice. “But Keith has always suspected there’s more to the story.”

  Keith always was a clever one. But Rachel proved cleverer in this instance.

  “Why doesn’t he just get the police records about what happened to his dad?” Rachel took a healthy glug of the cold-brew-infused malt milkshake she’d ordered and closed her eyes in satisfaction.