by Tessa Kelly
“Hey, cheer up!” Tray said. “It could’ve been worse. You could’ve stumbled on a gruesome murder and been compelled to solve it.”
I rolled my eyes. Thanks to Kathy, Tray was all too well-informed of my two stints as an amateur sleuth last year, the first one involving the murder of a local restaurant owner, the second, that of an art gallery curator. Both murders happened in my neighborhood and implicated the people I cared about: my father and Josh, the hunky employee at Kathy’s bakery who was also my crush at the time. While the police weren’t convinced of their innocence, I knew neither of them were capable of a horrific crime. Well...
I’d had some moments of doubt when it came to Josh, after I’d caught him sneaking away from a crime scene. Luckily, he turned out to be innocent, having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. In any case, it was impossible to stay away knowing the people I cared about could suffer punishment for crimes they hadn’t committed.
But that was all, my only two forays into crime-solving. I wasn’t planning on making a career out of them. Especially when writing was the only occupation that really interested me.
I squeezed the strap of my shoulder bag as a reminder to myself. Tucked away inside was the flash drive containing the manuscript of my novel: First Edition Murder. A mystery inspired by the killing of the aforementioned restaurant owner.
The manuscript was my evidence, proof that I was a real writer. A genuine article.
I hoped.
The same flash drive also contained rejections from eight different editors to whom I’d sent my work over the past several months.
My shoulders drooped just thinking about them.
I’d taken the first three rejections in stride, seeing them as inevitable. Rejection was a rite of passage, a thing all creatives had to go through, right?
The forth email brought with it the first seeds of doubt. Was I a bad writer? Was it the real reason my work kept getting turned down?
After that, every new rejection became a whip, chasing me from the grassy pastures full of confidence and sunshine and into arid wastelands of insecurity.
But I’m digressing. My point is this: no matter what Tray or any of my other friends said, I was not a sleuth. Nor was I a magnet for trouble, as my boyfriend Liam liked to joke. Ever since solving the last murder, my life had remained blissfully calm and I saw no reason why things shouldn’t continue on that way. Besides, no gruesome murders could happen this weekend, not when two of my dear friends were finally getting married.
“Everyone likes Henry and Mrs. O’Hara,” Kathy said as if reading my thoughts. “I can’t imagine anyone trying to spoil their special day with something terrible like that.”
Tray nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. The worst thing I see happening is Sandie’s date jumping onto the buffet table and landing in the wedding cake.”
“Tray!” Kathy play-punched him on the arm. He danced away from her, nimble as a tall, strapping tomcat.
“So sorry, Sandie. What was I thinking?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You look as sorry as Marlowe when he jumps on the couch.”
“Then how about a consolation ice-cream? On me.”
“Well. Okay.” Time to teach this guy how to make jokes at my expense. “I’ll take the largest, most expensive strawberry sundae they have. With extra walnuts and chocolate sauce.”
“Coming right up!” He didn’t even bat an eye. I smiled.
I couldn’t fault Tray for being in a good mood—this was his first weekend away with my sister. He’d been beaming since the moment he picked us up at my apartment building, early this morning. Leaning in, he gave her a light peck on the cheek and his brown eyes twinkled.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get a sundae too.”
“Are you making up for something, or trying to score points for the future?” shed asked.
“Neither. Just happy to be nominated, as they say.”
He sauntered off to the canteen, tall and blond and broad-shouldered. So very different from Kathy’s brooding soon-to-be ex-husband.
Tray and Kathy met while studying at the culinary school in Manhattan. They became good friends and might’ve ended up dating even then if Tray hadn’t moved to the West Coast to work as a pastry chef at one of Portland’s finest restaurants.
Kathy stayed close to home and opened her own bakery where I now worked as a part-time cake decorator. She eventually met and married Jeff, a man whose reserved manner proved to hide a vast greed for money and a volatile temper instead of a deep and sensitive nature, as Kathy had thought. Through the trying years of her marriage, she and Tray stayed in touch, meeting every now and then at food shows and culinary conventions.
Now Tray was back in New York, owner of a successful internet cooking show. Kathy being separated, they were spending more and more time together. It was platonic, of course, but recently Tray was starting to hint at wanting a relationship.
I hoped, once Kathy’s divorce was final, she would take him up on his offer. No one deserved happiness more than my sister, and Tray seemed just the right guy to give her that. So much so that watching them together made me feel a bit lonely.
“I wish I had an actual, human date to this wedding,” I said.
Dad, Marlowe’s real owner, was away on a two-week trip to Bavaria which, I suspected, consisted mainly of visiting the breweries. The trip was a birthday present from me and my siblings, one more thing to cross off his bucket list.
As always when he was away, it fell to me to look after Marlowe. Ordinarily, I would’ve left him with my roommate Felisha, but she was at a filigree-making workshop in the Catskills. It surprised me when she said she was going. I’d always assumed jewelry-making was a passing craze, like so many of Felisha’s other hobbies. Watching her invest time and money into learning new techniques made me wonder if maybe this one would stick.
With Felisha gone, I had no choice but to bring Marlowe along for the wedding. Mrs. O’Hara and Henry proved to be good sports, taking the news in stride and promising to make special arrangements with the hotel. Technically, the venue didn’t allow canine guests.
“At least you won’t be the only one without a date,” Kathy said consolingly.
That was true. Mrs. O’Hara, or Geraldine as she insisted I call her, assured me most guests weren’t bringing a plus-one. But that didn’t stop me from wishing Liam had been coming with me. I’d even made several unsuccessful attempts to convince him to skip out on work. Come to think of it, there was no harm in giving it just one more try.
As Kathy drifted off to see if Tray needed help with the ice creams, I took out my phone and typed in a message:
On the ferry to East Sea Island. Can already feel it’s a beautiful place. Very romantic. Any way you can make it up here before the weekend’s over? Would love to share this with you.
He was supposed to come up for the whole weekend, but a Professor at the college where he was taking part-time classes made a last-minute announcement about changing the dates of the final exam. It was to take place this evening, Friday night, rather than next week.
Which still should’ve made it possible for Liam to drive up to Massachusetts and be on the island in time for the wedding on Saturday, had it not been for his boss. Alex Sorrento, owner of the bar where Liam worked, refused to give him the time off. Harboring a grudge against me for briefly suspecting him of killing his business partner, he never missed an opportunity to come between us.
The ferry hadn’t docked yet when my phone beeped with Liam’s response.
Hey, gorgeous! You know there’s nothing I’d love more than to be up there with you, but I can’t. Promise to make it up to you when you get back. Deal?
It was as I expected, but a wisp of disappointment wormed its way into my heart.
Would have to be something really special. I’ll be stuck up here with a dog.
The answer came almost instantly. Nice try with the guilt-trip. I know you love that little guy.
; That much was true. I glanced down at Marlowe sitting quietly at my feet. Not trying to chase seagulls or jump on other passengers for once. Marlowe met my gaze with his hopeful brown eyes. Dog eyes. Always devoted and a little bit sad, somehow. Such an effective trick to make every human within a mile radius dance to his tune.
Bending down, I patted him on the head. “It’s okay, buddy. I forgive you. We’re still friends.”
Marlowe flattened his ears and licked my palm.
I imagined Liam being next to me, his lean arms wrapped around my shoulders. We would stand close and watch the ocean as the ferry made its slow way toward the island. Then, with a playful smile, Liam would cut his eyes at me and lean in for a kiss.
I sighed.
To think, we almost didn’t get together.
It took me months to agree to go out with him and even then, our first date had been unconventional. Instead of Liam taking me out to dinner and drinks as he planned, I had dragged him off to the opera.
My reasons had little to do with Liam and everything to do with Henry and Geraldine, the same Henry and Geraldine who were getting married this weekend.
Henry was in his sixties and suffering from amnesia caused by the blow to the head he thought he received during a highway robbery, though he couldn’t remember it happening. Geraldine was a retired widow, spending her free time volunteering at the homeless shelter where Henry was living under a temporary name. She had asked for my help in the search for Henry’s identity, which led me to realize there was a certain family resemblance between him and an acquaintance of mine, John Edwards. Knowing the three of them would be at the opera that night, I planned to bring them together in the intermission and see if they would recognize each other.
That was seven months ago. Though Henry’s memory still hadn’t returned, finding out his true identity had led him to regain full possession of his fortune, which was considerable. To his even greater delight, he learned that he was unattached and free to get married. It didn’t take long for him and Geraldine to start sending out wedding invitations.
Liam had been so impressed with the part I’d played in all of this he hadn’t even minded our first date turning into a sleuthing adventure. We’d been dating ever since and, apart from our busy schedules, it was great. Liam was sweet and caring and made no secret that he liked me. Though I felt too nervous to bring it up, I was beginning to wonder if we had a real future together.
“We’re back!” Kathy appeared at my elbow and thrust a chocolate ice-cream cone in my hand.
I frowned at it. “What happened to my strawberry sundae?”
“They don’t make sundaes and they’re all out of strawberry. Eat it fast! Looks like we’re about to dock.”
The ferry maneuvered slowly into the marina and soon we were stepping off the gangplank and onto the wide-open pier.
All around us, the waves, the buffeting wind, and the screeching seagulls, loud enough to drown out the chatter of the disembarking passengers, created a distracting cacophony. A young couple loaded with suitcases waddled past me, the woman towing a girl of about five who was dragging a Yorkie on a leash. The sight of the other dog sent Marlowe into a frenzy, forcing me to pull him away from the walkway and onto the grassy lawn.
To the right and left of us, a stone walkway ran alongside the beach as far as the eye could see. Another walkway led straight ahead, past the lawn and the narrow concrete road beyond it, disappearing into the rows of colorful wooden cottages with screened porches half-hidden under flowering creepers and yellow tea roses. A small, quaint harbor town all dressed up and ready to mingle. Most of the ferry passengers were heading in its direction.
“Is that where we’re going?” Tray asked.
I shook my head. “The hotel we’re staying at is on the other side of the island. Geraldine said it was kind of secluded. She’s picking us up here.”
“Couldn’t the hotel arrange a transfer?”
“Sure. I told her not to trouble herself, but she insisted.”
We waited. Gradually, the pier emptied of the passengers, leaving us alone.
Kathy peered at the road in both directions. “Are you sure she hasn’t forgotten?”
I looked at the time on my phone, then looked again, refusing to believe my eyes. Geraldine was running thirty-four minutes late.
A worry fluttered in my stomach. “This isn’t like her at all. Wherever she goes, she’s always early.”
“You don’t think something’s happened, do you?” Kathy asked. Her eyes flashed, fixing on a point over my shoulder. I turned to follow her gaze.
A blue Chrysler appeared on the road ahead, dark tinted windows hiding the driver. It rounded the grass lawn and sped straight at us.
Chapter 2
Before we could react, the Chrysler veered to the left, screeching to a stop a few yards away from us. The door opened and Geraldine clambered out, looking flustered but beaming. The sun made a halo of her lovely white hair as she hugged us each in turn.
“So sorry you had to wait! I just can’t believe I’m so late. Once I saw the time, I was driving as fast as the speed limit would let me, took the wrong turn and had to double back. On top of everything, I forgot my phone at the hotel, couldn’t even call to let you know.”
Kathy laughed. “Geraldine, don’t you fret. You’re planning a wedding, you’re allowed to be late for once!”
“Absolutely,” Tray agreed, smiling. “We promise not to tell anyone.”
I grinned with the rest of them, but my eyes watched Geraldine closely. The anxiety I felt while waiting for her only got stronger, now that she was here. Frazzled over the wedding preparations? Probably. But, unless I imagined it, there seemed to be a vague something in her eyes, like a tiny cloud over her smile. Perhaps, not everything was going well with the wedding.
Geraldine looked us over and let out a long sigh. “Thank you so much for understanding. It’s been a crazy few days. Shall we get going?”
“Just a second,” Kathy chirped. She reached into her tote bag and brought out a striped red-and-white cake box tied with a lovely white ribbon. “Carrot cake. I made it especially for you, with the extra frosting as you like it.”
“My dear, how thoughtful of you!”
Geraldine clapped her hands with childlike delight. Just like that, she was her old self again, with a smile that could light up any room, and not a cloud in sight.
Maybe I was just imagining things, and nothing was wrong after all.
Geraldine walked to the car, holding the cake box close, like a precious commodity. In a way, it was.
“If it hadn’t been for Kathy’s carrot cake we might never have met or become friends,” I said, remembering Geraldine’s daily visits to the bakery.
“How true.” She handed me the box while she put on her seat belt and started the engine.
“And if we hadn’t met, I wouldn’t have known to ask you for help with Henry’s identity. Then none of this would’ve happened.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand, meaning the wedding and everything. Then she sighed. “They have carrot cake in Boston, you know. But it’s nothing like Kathy’s. So there’s at least one thing I miss about my old life.”
“But you’re happy otherwise. Right?” I asked, unable to shake the strange feeling.
She beamed. “Oh, yes. Henry is such a dear. I couldn’t be happier if I tried.”
Sitting in the back seat, Tray cleared his throat. “Ladies, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for catching up and stuff. But, just an FYI, some of us are pretty hungry and wouldn’t mind getting to where we’re going.”
“Hold your horses, young man!” Geraldine gave him a humorous wink in the rearview mirror as she backed the car toward the road. “The hotel is on the other side of the island, a forty-minute drive from here. Pray I don’t take a wrong turn again.”
“How come Henry isn’t with you?” I asked.
“Oh, he wanted to come. But there’s still much preparation to do for the wedding. Besides
, most of the guests are already at the hotel and we didn’t think it was right to leave John all on his own to entertain them. Jennifer’s there too, of course. John’s sister. But she...well, she’s Jennifer.” She left that one to drift without an explanation and gave a small shrug. “Long story short, Henry and I flipped a coin and I called tails so I got to come.”
She was laughing, but there it was again, the vague something in her eyes. This time, I knew I hadn’t imagined it. I kept my voice low, “Geraldine, is everything really okay?”
She hesitated just a fraction before nodding. “It’s the wedding, dear. The guests and all that. The general pressure of keeping everyone happy. You know how these things are.” She smiled, making light of it.
I wondered if there was anyone in particular she was struggling to keep happy and crossed my fingers hoping it wasn’t Henry.
It couldn’t be Henry, could it? He wasn’t the type to be difficult. Also, he was head over heels for Geraldine. Everyone could see it. But if she and Henry were happy, what else could possibly darken this weekend for her?
“Have any of you ever been to Sand Reed Hotel before?” Geraldine asked, seeming anxious to change the subject.
“I haven’t,” Kathy said from the back. “But I checked it out online. It looks absolutely lovely. You couldn’t have picked a better place for a wedding.”
“Thank you.” She beamed as she drove. “John, Henry’s nephew, had his own wedding there years ago. Henry and I were looking at every possible venue in Boston. Most of them were nice but didn’t seem right for us. It was Carl, Jennifer’s youngest, who suggested we go to Sand Reed. He’s here, at the hotel. A great kid, you’ll meet him tonight. Anyway, when Henry and I agreed on Sand Reed, John simply went ahead and booked the entire place for the weekend, as a gift to us. Such an incredibly generous soul he is.”
No kidding!
I was suddenly second-guessing the wine glasses Kathy and I got them. They seemed like a great idea at the time and were way out of our price range. But what sort of gift could compete with a hotel?
