I don’t dare take a breath. “Jane, you went down to the end of the cove, didn’t you? What did you see?”
She shakes her head, her gaze set off to the cobalt blue horizon.
“I saw a blonde lying on the beach. I didn’t know what to think. Peter was never violent with me. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t even get close enough to see anything protruding from her body. I thought maybe she passed out. I ran back to the café and that was it. I had no idea she was mortally injured. And then I heard she was dead.” That last word comes from her threadbare as a tear rolls down her cheek. “It’s horrible is what it is.”
“I’m so sorry.” I quickly fish a tissue out of my beach bag and hand it to her. “Jane, did you know Heather very well?”
“Not really.” She takes a moment to blow her nose. “I never spoke with her privately. We were usually in a group setting with Faith and Kiki.”
“Did any of those conversations stick out to you?”
Jane falls back and rests on her hands as she considers it.
“You know, strange things were supposedly happening on set—mostly to Heather.”
“What kind of strange things?” Every cell in my body is at peak attention.
“Things moving around her dressing room. Her personal items missing then reappearing in odd places. Her toothbrush in the toilet, her phone in the refrigerator, things like that. It sounded like nothing more than childish pranks to me, but Heather insisted it was a ghost. So when Faith said we should hire a medium to come to the set, Heather flew off the handle. She said that was evil, and that there was a very good reason we should never try to contact the dead. She said life after death was none of our business, and once you started to delve into it, you would be forever sorry.”
Forever sorry.
“Jane? Did Heather ever mention that she delved into life after death?”
Jane glances to where Sherlock lies fast asleep.
“I don’t know. She didn’t extrapolate and nobody pushed her. She was the star. Half the time we were walking around on eggshells trying to keep her happy. But she wasn’t happy. In her own words, she was being haunted.”
Jane gets back to reading her book and my mind races with thoughts as to why Heather Kent could have been haunted.
Could all of these ghostly encounters she was supposedly having be linked to Rachel Hatterman? And if so, who is this Leeny that Bates mentioned last night?
One thing is for sure—Heather Kent was hiding something. And if I had to guess, it was of a very supernatural nature.
Chapter 13
Wedding dress shopping.
“Why does this momentous occasion actually feel more like a chore?” I whisper to Emmie as we huddle in the corner of the Sew Lovely Bridal Boutique situated right here on Main Street in Cider Cove. It’s finally the weekend, Saturday to be exact, and all of the planets have aligned so that my sister, mother, Georgie, and Emmie could help me hunt down the perfect gown. Both Juni and Jasper’s mother, Gwyneth, skipped out on the offer to join us. I can’t blame them. I almost skipped out myself.
“A chore, Bizzy?” Emmie hisses at me as she plucks and pulls at the sea of white dresses while trying to balance her glass of complimentary champagne. After looking at these prices, it’s clear why they’d want to liquor up the bride-to-be along with anyone who’s accompanied her. “What would Jasper think?”
“Jasper wouldn’t care if I were naked.”
Emmie giggles. “Okay, fair enough, but personally I’d rather see you in one of these. Ooh.” She plucks out a wall of taffeta. “How about this one?”
I cringe at the sight. “No, thank you. I believe that’s the marshmallow dress Sherlock was hinting I wear.”
She blinks over at me. “Sherlock Bones? The dog?”
My fingers quickly ride over my lips. Since Emmie doesn’t know about my quirky gift, I don’t want to clue her in on the fact. “I meant Juni. I think the champagne is going to my head.”
“Bizzy, you’re the only one in here who hasn’t had any champagne. I think your nerves are getting the best of you.”
“You’re right. I think I’ll rectify that with champagne,” I say, swooping past her and threading my way through the spacious light and bright boutique that caters to all things getting hitched.
Honestly, I would have been happy picking out my dress online and having it delivered in the mail. This entire barrage of white dresses has quickly become an avalanche of choices—choices that suddenly feel impossible to make.
Of course, the boutique has an entire slew of bridesmaid dresses, too, in every shade of pastel, and I told both Emmie and Macy to pick out whatever they like, in whatever hue they desire, and I’ll gladly pick up the tab. I just so happen to be picking up the tab for Georgie’s dress, too, but she’s not a bridesmaid. She’s the ordained minister who gets to tie Jasper and me up into a tidy little matrimonial knot.
“Bizzy.” Mom toasts me with a flute of champagne as she stands around a marble bistro table with Georgie and Macy. “How’s it going?”
“It’s come and gone, I’m afraid,” I say as I pick up a glass of champagne sitting on the platter. As soon as we arrived, the staff began to pour the bubbly. “You know, I think they ply you with liquor here to keep you from falling over from the sticker shock.”
Macy belts out a laugh. “Then you should have the entire bottle, seeing that you’re picking up the tab.”
“No way.” Mom wags a finger and sloshes some of her champagne onto the slick marble floor in the process. “Your father already volunteered to pay for your dress, Bizzy. And that of your sister’s and Emmie’s. You and Jasper are doing enough. It’s our treat.” Even though my parents have long since divorced, when it comes to getting my father to pay for things, my mother really does deserve half the credit. Without her prodding him, there would be no credit to give anyone.
“Wow, thank you.” I toast her with my glass. “How did you get him to agree?”
The Sew Lovely Bridal Boutique is light and bright, with creamy marble floors, the sound of moody love songs ringing out through the air, and the entire place holds the scent of a sugary perfume.
“Don’t you worry, kiddo.” Mom gives a twitch of her cheek. “I may not be tied to that man legally anymore, but I know how to sit on him when I have to. Believe me when I say, the divorce was a marked improvement in our relationship.”
“Hear, hear.” Georgie holds her champagne flute high. She’s dressed in a flame red kaftan with yellow and orange streaks dyed into the fabric, and she looks exactly like the spitfire she is. “My divorces were the best time of my life.”
Macy sighs dreamily. “I can’t wait to get a divorce.”
“Macy”—I make a face at my ornery sister—“you’re not even married yet.”
She gives a wistful tick of the head. “And that’s why I need to hurry up and saddle down one of Jasper’s brothers.”
“You stay away from Jasper’s brothers,” I’m quick to tell her. Macy has already cycled through two of them, and my mother has tried out yet another. “You’ve done enough damage.” I look to my mother. “You too.”
Georgie gives a throaty laugh. “Save a Wilder for me, would you? I wouldn’t mind adding a fling or a ring to my resume in the very near future.” She wiggles her hand while winking at the thought.
“All this talk about divorce is turning me green,” I say as I take a little sip of my champagne. I’m not a drinker by nature. I don’t have anything against it. I just don’t care for the stuff. Besides, the few times I’ve overstepped by inebriated bounds, I had every thought in the room flooding into my brain—and at an amplified decibel. No, thank you. But at present, I don’t see what a sip or two could hurt.
I take another hearty swig.
Mom sags as she inspects me. “Now look what we’ve done. She’s taken to day drinking because she’s so afraid of getting a divorce. Don’t you worry, Bizzy. Things are different with you and Jasper. I hardly knew your father
before we jumped the gun.” She leans in. “Not to mention the fact your grandfather had a very real weapon at our wedding. You’ve heard of shotgun weddings? This was a Saturday Night Special.”
Georgie winces over at her. “Don’t tell me Hux was a guest at your wedding.”
Mom jerks her head to the side. “He was born eight months after the fact. You do the math.”
Macy contrives a gasp so loud you would think we were out of champagne.
“And you still wore white? No wonder Grandma Baker ignored you for the next sixteen years.”
Mom laughs. “That explains it. That and the fact she hated my guts.”
“Hates.” Macy nods. “This is an ongoing thing.”
Mom blinks back. “I thought she died years ago.”
Macy shakes her head. “She just wanted you to think so.”
I roll my eyes. None of that is true—I think. As far as I know, Grandma Baker really did die years ago. But Macy does love her revisionist history when it comes to making people squirm. It’s nice to know my mother isn’t above the fold when it comes to my sister’s shenanigans.
Georgie elbows me. “Your mama is right. You and Jasper know each other inside and out.” She waggles her brows. “Now go ahead and blink if you’ve done the deed with the good detective.”
I blink inadvertently and Georgie lets out a double whoop.
Do I really know Jasper inside and out? I mean, I’ve met his siblings. His brothers are great. His sister has an adorable four-month old little girl who is a princess if ever there was one. His mother—well, despite the fact Gwyneth and my father seem to be enjoying a long engagement, the woman is a bit of a pill. And his father—
I suck in a quick breath. “Oh my goodness, I just realized something.” My fingers fly over my lips like a reflex.
“What’s that?” Macy inches her head forward a notch with a general look of disinterest on her face.
“I don’t know anything about Jasper’s father.”
Mom shrugs it off with a look of surprise. “Who the hell cares?”
“Wait a minute.” Georgie holds out a hand as if she were refereeing a fight. “Is he a hot hunk of beef?”
“I wouldn’t know.” The words sail from me in a panic. “I have no idea what he looks like. I don’t know his name or anything. All I vaguely remember from the first time we talked about our families is that he divorced Gwyneth.”
Mom grunts, “You’ve met the woman, Bizzy. That was not a hard decision.”
“True,” I say. “She’s as caustic as a cactus.”
Macy grimaces. “Well, you won’t get a divorce just because you don’t know his father’s first name. But he might cut the legal ties when he finds out you’re talking smack about his mother in a bridal boutique.”
A dull laugh huffs from me. “And who’s going to tell him?”
“I am,” a sharp, decidedly caustic and prickly as a cactus voice emanates from behind and I cease to breathe.
Dear God.
Kill me.
I spin on my heels and force a bright smile at the caustic cactus before me.
“Gwyneth! So glad you could make it,” I trill to the older, beautiful in a cutthroat manner, brunette with the same shock of dark hair as her children and same glowing silver eyes.
“Oh, can it.” She reaches past me and snatches up a champagne flute. “No harm, no foul. Like I said, you’ll make a fine starter wife for my Jasper.”
I roll my eyes and am about to launch into an apology that will start here and most likely end at my wedding reception when two familiar women stride in through the doors.
It’s Faith Grayson and Kiki Woodley.
“Hang on to that thought,” I say as I ditch the melee I inadvertently caused, and as soon as I step away, I can hear my mother and Gwyneth start in on the bickering. They usually get along pretty well, but Gwyneth drew first blood with that starter-wife comment. And if my mother is anything, she’s a mama bear at heart—all teeth and razor sharp claws. Gwyneth will need more than just a single glass of champagne to get through the afternoon.
“Ladies,” I say brightly and both Faith and Kiki enlarge their eyes my way a moment.
“Bizzy?” Faith gives a little laugh. She’s donned a sunhat and crisp white T-shirt with shorts. Kiki has on a flower printed sundress and sandals, and judging by the bright pink hue on their cheeks, I’m guessing they strolled down from the inn.
Kiki looks momentarily confused. “You don’t work here, too, do you, Bizzy? It’s like you run the whole town.”
A laugh strums through me. “Nope. I’m here hoping to find something to wear to my wedding. But I’m not really getting anywhere. How about the two of you?”
Faith glances around. “Peter thought we should find a fancy gown for our female lead to get slaughtered in, and our wardrobe girl would rather be sunning on the beach today, so we’re taking one for the team.”
Kiki nods. “Camila suggested a wedding dress, and Peter flipped for the idea. Boy, she’s really hot for that detective that keeps coming around.”
“Tell me about it,” I grunt. “That hot detective happens to be my fiancé.”
The two of them gasp and gag.
“I’m used to it.” I shake my head. “Camila is basically psychotic when it comes to Jasper. They, too, were engaged once upon a time. But she cheated on him with his best friend and Jasper moved on.”
They gasp in unison once again.
Faith makes a face. “As a person who was cheated on once, I don’t look too kindly on cheaters.” She ticks her head. “Then again, I was born out of an affair, so I guess I can’t knock it too hard. But by the sound of it, Camila and the other guy didn’t last.”
Emmie pops up as if on cue.
“Nope,” I say. “Camila and Leo didn’t last, and this girl right here is pretty thankful for it.” I pull Emmie in close. “Faith, Kiki, have you met Emmie? She runs the Country Cottage Café.”
Kiki leans in. “Are you kidding? I have a serious addiction to those s’mores bars, and Emmie here is my supplier.”
“Ditto,” Faith is quick to agree. “It’s no wonder this Leo person has glommed onto you. You’ve bewitched him with your baking skills.”
Emmie belts out a laugh. “I won’t lie. Not a day has gone by since we’ve been dating that I haven’t plied him with one of my creations.” I want to add—believe me when I say, Leo Granger knows how to get very, very creative with my sweet treats, but I’m guessing Bizzy wouldn’t find it as amusing as I do. I have no idea what it’s going to take for her to fully accept us. She said she would, but it always feels as if she’s holding something back when we bring him up. I can’t put my finger on it. There’s an elephant in the room, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what it could be.
I make a face.
That elephant just so happens to have the ability to pry into her private thoughts.
If they get serious enough, I’ve already decided to tell Emmie about my secret. She’s going to think I’m a monster for keeping it from her for all these years. That right there is the real reason I almost can’t stomach the thought of going through with it. And on another note, once she discovers that I’ve let her mind ramble freely in front of a man capable of micro-analyzing every little thought, she just might kill me.
I look to Faith and Kiki, desperate to change the subject from Leo Granger and those things he does to my bestie with her innocent desserts.
“Champagne, anyone?” I ask brightly. “It’s free.”
No sooner do I say the magic word than the four of us migrate over and quickly imbibe.
Georgie, Mom, and Gwyneth have split apart an equal distance as they peruse the delicious, creamy gowns among us. Gwyneth is eyeing something white with sequins and the thought of her wearing white to my wedding makes me twitchy.
Macy tops her glass off before linking arms with Emmie.
“Come on, Em.” Macy pulls her out of our circle. “Let’s find something slutty
to wear to Bizzy’s big day.”
Faith glances around. “Should I put Camila in something slutty?”
“Heavens no. She’s praying you’ll do just that.” I take another nip off my drink. “I say choose something matronly.”
Kiki chuckles. “Something that she’ll swim in, with a high neck.”
“And puffy sleeves,” I add.
Faith squints toward the back. “I think I see a hoop skirt. Excuse me, ladies.” She takes off and I top off both my glass and Kiki’s.
I look over at her. “How’s the morale on the set?”
She makes a face before knocking back half her drink.
“You know, it’s funny you should ask. Faith and I were just commenting on the way over it’s as if no one really misses her.”
“Oh.” I inch back at the odd statement. “I guess she was just another co-worker then. It’s not like anyone was really close on set.”
She rolls her eyes. “Peter was plenty close to her. Bates was close to her. Just about every grip and soundman was itching to get into her pants. And I have no doubt she would have been willing to give them all a turn. She was loose and didn’t bother to hide it.”
“I sort of gathered that myself,” I say it just above a whisper. “I guess the sheriff’s department can rule out a man,” I tease. “I mean, she seemed to work hard to please them.”
Her chest ripples as she swallows down a laugh. “Maybe, but I think it’s obvious a man did it.”
“You do?”
She takes another sip of her drink and nods. “I heard the killer really went to work with that cleaver. Most women don’t have the upper body strength to pull something like that off.”
“I guess I’d have to agree. I heard it was pretty rough.” Spine severed, ribs broken, not to mention the organ damage. “Whoever did it was pretty angry with her.”
“Peter was angry. Bates argued with her. And she mentioned she has someone watching her.”
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