by Sara Rosett
“But why can’t she just get married tomorrow?”
I closed my eyes, and the list of vendors scrolled through my head: the food, the flowers, the tux rentals, the musicians, the photographer, the minister. They would all have to be cancelled and rescheduled.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Nathan asked. “You look all pale and sick, like Tanner did right before he threw up all over the carpet in reading circle.”
I opened my eyes. “Thank you for that lovely image,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Nothing is wrong. There’s nothing that can’t be rescheduled,” I said, looking over Nathan’s head to Mitch.
“Who knows,” Mitch said. “Brian may get his wish. They may have to elope.”
* * *
Three hours later, my phone rang as I left Mr. Markham’s office. I didn’t recognize the caller ID, but I always answered in case it was a new organizing client, but it wasn’t a new client. I recognized Summer’s voice before she said more than hello.
“Summer! How are you?”
“I’m fine now, but they won’t let me leave yet. Never go in the hospital, Ellie They’re determined to find something wrong with you.”
“But you did have something wrong with you, and it was pretty serious,” I said, feeling so relieved to hear Summer’s bouncy tone.
“Yes, I know. And I know I sound totally ungrateful and selfish, but I want to get out of here and get married, but they won’t let me leave. They say they need to observe me for at least twelve more hours. I told the nurses I’m leaving tomorrow morning, no matter what.”
I heard the muffled sound of Caroline’s voice in the background. Summer must have tilted the phone away because her voice faded. “Yes, Mom, I am calm . . . No, let me finish talking to Ellie . . . Right, only a few more minutes.”
Summer’s voice came in louder as she pulled the phone back to her mouth. “So yeah, since Mom’s not helping me break out, I need you to come over here so we can talk wedding stuff.”
“Wedding stuff?”
“Strategy,” Summer said shortly. “What we’re going to do.”
“Oh, I’m already on it. I just met with Mr. Markham and discussed shifting the ceremony to tomorrow. I’ve contacted all the vendors, too.”
“Wonderful. Oh, Ellie, I knew you were just the person to help with my wedding. You really should do this full-time. You could probably make a mint.”
“We’ll see. Let’s get through this wedding first,” I said.
“Right. Okay, so can you come over on the ferry with Mitch? There’s still time. It doesn’t leave for another thirty minutes. I’d really appreciate it.”
“Let me see if I can find someone to watch the kids. It’s still pouring rain. They’ve cancelled all the outdoor activities today, so all the kids are going bonkers.” The novelty of old-fashioned board games had worn off. Earlier this morning, I had left Mitch to explain why they couldn’t go swimming in the rain.
“Ask Madison to watch them,” Summer said. “Tell her I’ll pay her double her usual babysitting rate.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
Madison couldn’t turn down Summer’s offer. She said she was saving up for a prom dress, so Mitch and I were able to take the ferry together. It was quite a different ride than our trip over, which had been filled with sunshine and happy expectations. The rain had tapered off for the moment, but the overcast sky turned the sea a gunmetal gray, and the air was chilly. We spent the trip in the interior cabin where I flipped through the wedding binder, double-checking to make sure I’d contacted everyone involved in the wedding and told them of the delay.
Yvonne was on the ferry too. After a brief greeting and a quick smile, she retreated to the other side of the cabin. I wondered if she was embarrassed about sharing so much with me yesterday.
I lost track of Yvonne when we arrived at the dock. The rental car company was there to meet us, as Mitch had arranged, and it wasn’t long before we were at the hospital. When I pushed through the door of Summer’s room, she was sipping juice from a straw. She had an IV in her arm and a bad case of bedhead, but she looked alert and happy. Her color was good, and when she saw Mitch and me, she extended her arms. Mitch hugged her close and murmured, “You gave us quite a scare. Glad you’re doing okay now.”
“Me too.”
Brian had been seated on the end of the bed, but he stood when we arrived. Mitch’s parents, who had been in chairs on the far side of the room, stood as well. Dark circles shadowed their eyes, and they had that worn-out look the kids get when I let them stay up too late. We all exchanged greetings, and then Mitch pulled his parents aside to coordinate. He planned to take them back to the ferry so they could get a few hours of sleep at the resort, then return later in the day.
They gave Summer hugs and promised to be back before dinner, then they left with Mitch. Yvonne slipped through the door as it closed after them.
Brian, who had just settled back onto the foot of the bed, stood and said, “Mom.” His voice was weary, as if he didn’t want to deal with her right then. “I don’t really have time right now . . .”
Yvonne flinched a little at his tone, but she put a big smile on her face. “No, don’t get up. No need to worry. I’m not here to stay. I just wanted to bring you this.” She handed the to-go cup of coffee to Brian. “It’s a hazelnut latte.”
“Um, thanks,” Brian said.
She turned to Summer. “And I didn’t know if you could have anything to drink, so I brought you these instead.” She held out a stack of glossy magazines to Summer. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Summer took the magazines. “Thank you.”
The two women looked at each other for a moment, then Yvonne said suddenly, “Well, I’ll let you rest.” She hurried from the room.
Summer and Brian exchanged a considering look. Then Brian said, “I think she means it.”
Summer sighed. “You better go after her.”
Brian kissed Summer on the forehead and headed for the door.
“But tell her she better not try to boss me around after we’re married,” Summer called after him. “She can’t forget that I’m your wife.”
“I won’t let her forget,” Brian said before he left.
“Going to be your wife,” Summer amended as she folded her arms over the magazines. “Well, that’s quite an about-face.”
“Yes. I talked to her last night. She was so upset. She seemed very different than I’d seen her—contrite almost.”
“We’ll see if it lasts. She didn’t quote any Shakespeare, so maybe it will. How about Patricia? How’s she taking it?”
“I spoke to her this morning after breakfast. She was . . . concerned.”
“About the fuss, I imagine.”
“Well, yes.” I didn’t say anything else. Summer had enough to worry about and didn’t need to know that her future mother-in-law thought that possibly being poisoned was a selfish and unreasonable thing to do on the eve of your wedding.
I took Brian’s place at the foot of the bed. “So how are you?”
“Oh, I’m better now.” She shivered. “You don’t want to know what they did to me.” She hit a button and raised the bed so that she was in more of a sitting position. “Let’s talk wedding stuff. I need something to get my mind off all this.” She raised her arm with the IV attached and indicated the hospital bed.
“Okay,” I said. “The good news is that all the vendors feel awful for you, and since you had arranged for everyone to stay overnight tonight, almost all the guests and most of the vendors, like the florist and musicians, will be able to stay on until tomorrow. Even the minister can stay. He’s taken the whole weekend off. But after tomorrow . . .”
“They can’t hang around any longer waiting for the bride to get released from the hospital. I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll be out of here and back on Camden Island by noon tomorrow. Now, what’s the bad news?”
“There’s no problem with the reception. Mr. Markham said the
resort will be happy to slide the reception to Sunday. The ballroom isn’t booked, but . . .” There was no way to soften the news, so I just came out with it. “The gazebo area is rented for tomorrow.”
“What?” Summer sat forward, and the magazines slid toward the side of the bed.
I caught them before they hit the floor. “I’m afraid so. Mr. Markham says it’s a huge event and has been on the books longer than your wedding. Some political fundraiser thing.”
Summer fell back against the pillows. “But that means that we don’t have a wedding venue. The contract we signed with the resort was very specific about cancellation. It doesn’t matter if we have all the other stuff—the minister, the flowers, the musicians, the food. We have to have somewhere to put it all.”
“Mr. Markham went over your options with me. He said they would be happy to apply the deposit you’ve paid toward a new date.”
“No,” Summer said adamantly. “We are not rescheduling. Brian and I are getting married this weekend. Even if we have to do it in the hospital chapel, we are getting married.”
I stacked the magazines on a rolling tray beside the bed. “I thought you’d say that, so I asked about other options for this weekend. I think Mr. Markham is slightly worried that you and Brian may sue the resort, so he’s very open to working with you to find a solution.”
Summer’s forehead wrinkled. “Sue Camden Island? Why would we do that? None of this is Mr. Markham’s fault.”
“I know that, but you know how sue-happy people are now. Something goes wrong and they bring a suit just to see what they can get from a big company or corporation. And Brian is a lawyer.”
“But he’s not that kind of lawyer,” Summer said.
“Right. You and I know that, but Mr. Markham is motivated to make sure you and Brian are happy. As happy as you can be, anyway, after all that’s happened.”
Summer sighed. “I’d be happy to forget all the fancy stuff with the ceremony and just get married. You know, something basic.” She’d been plucking at the blanket that covered her lap, but as she said the last sentence, her hand stilled. She gazed across the room toward the window. We were on a high floor and it was raining again. Beyond the rain trickling down the glass we could see the thick layer of gray clouds. “What’s the weather forecast for tomorrow, do you know?”
I checked my phone. “Clear. High around seventy-five.”
“I have an idea.” She pulled the rolling tray closer and picked up her phone. “Let me call Mr. Markham.” She was scrolling through her contacts when the door opened and a young Asian man in scrubs and a white jacket entered the room.
Summer lowered her phone. “Hi, Dr. Mori.” As she put her phone back on the tray, she said to me, “I’ll get in touch with Mr. Markham as soon as I can.”
Two other people also in scrubs trailed into the room behind Dr. Mori. One of them maneuvered a rolling cart with a computer monitor and keyboard through the door while the other held a tablet. The doctor moved to Summer’s bed, and I backed up. “I’ll wait outside.”
“No, I’d rather you stayed,” Summer said to me.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Mori asked Summer.
“Great. One hundred percent ready to get out of here.”
“You do look much better. Your color is more normal, if a little pale.”
“I’m always pale,” Summer countered quickly, and picked up a strand of hair. “Redhead, you know.”
Dr. Mori checked Summer’s pulse, listened to her heart, and examined her eyes while the people behind him scurried around Summer as they scanned her wrist bracelet, then tapped and typed away on their computer equipment.
Dr. Mori tossed his stethoscope around his neck and said some medical jargon that I didn’t understand to people with him, then turned back to Summer. “You’ve improved. Your heart rate and blood pressure have normalized. Any more nausea?”
“No, none.”
“Okay. Then I want you to stay overnight, and if things stay the way they are now, I’ll discharge you in the morning.”
Summer sighed. “I can’t talk you into letting me out today?”
“No, I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Well, then early in the morning, right?”
A smile turned up the corners of Dr. Mori’s mouth. “Because you’re a bride, yes, early in the morning.” He reached for the tablet, which his assistant handed over. “Now, about these test results.” His face went serious. “Your blood contained a glycoside.”
Summer shook her head. “I can tell from your tone that’s not good, but you’re going to have to spell it out for me.”
“It means that you ingested a toxin.”
Summer glanced at me, her face falling. “I hoped that it was just food poisoning or something . . . else. Silly of me, I know.”
I glanced at the doctor and saw that he wasn’t puzzled. “You know the background? What’s happened to Summer during the last few days?”
“Yes, Detective Redding spoke to me last night. I’ve already sent him a copy of the test results.”
“Was it digitalis?” I asked. “I spoke to the nurse practitioner on the island. She said it might be digitalis.”
“It could be. The signs Summer was exhibiting when she arrived certainly were consistent with a digitalis overdose, but there are other poisons that function the same way. It could also be convallatoxin, another toxic glycoside. I’ve requested another test to narrow down the results. Try not to worry about it. You are recovering, and that’s the important thing.” He said he would return to check on her in the morning and left the room, his entourage trailing along behind him.
Summer dropped her head back onto her pillow when the door closed behind him. “I don’t understand this at all. It couldn’t have been Julia who did this to me. She’s still in the hospital. In fact, she’s on another floor of this hospital. I asked about her as soon as I began to feel like my normal self again. Who hates me so much that they want to poison me? I mean, if I really stretch my imagination I can see that someone like Julia, someone who’s a little”—she circled her finger at her temple—“crazy, might shoot paintballs at me or try to smear me with poison ivy, but those things were small compared to actually poisoning me.”
“I don’t understand it either,” I said, and went on to tell her Mitch and Redding had checked her room for signs that someone had tampered with her medicine, but had come up empty.
“So that means it probably happened at the rehearsal dinner,” Summer said, a frown on her face. “But I didn’t eat much. With all the talking and chatting, and making sure everyone was having a good time, I wasn’t focused on food. I didn’t have any of the salad and only had a few bites of the steak and vegetables.”
“That may have been a good thing,” I said. “Did anything taste different or funny?”
“No, everything was wonderful. I was happy that it had turned out so well, that we weren’t having one of those horrible rubber-chicken dinners.”
“And no one gave you anything else? A breath mint? A stick of gum?”
“No. I only had whatever everyone else had.”
The door swished open and Brian entered. Summer reached out her hand to him. “Oh good, you’re back. The doctor was just here.” She went on to relate what he’d told us, and I slipped from the room, figuring they needed some time alone. I was sure with the hospital workers and the other visitors, Summer and Brian probably hadn’t had a minute alone.
I pulled my phone out and called Redding. He surprised me by answering. “This is Ellie Avery,” I said. “I’m at the hospital with Summer. Her doctor just gave her the news that the test results showed that she was poisoned. The doctor said he had sent the results to you?”
“Yes, I have them. I’ve dispatched a deputy to the hospital. He should arrive within the next ten minutes. I’m actually on my way there as well. I’m going to recommend that your sister-in-law reduce the number of visitors and postpone her wedding.”
“I don’t think you’ll have much luck with that last one. She’s determined to get married tomorrow.”
Redding’s gusty sigh came over the line. “Yeah, well, I have to float the idea.”
“Any results on the food from the rehearsal?”
“Using the place cards, we’ve been able to narrow it down to two bags of trash. Our techs are working on it. I’ve asked for a rush, but this isn’t like those TV crime shows. We probably won’t get results for a while.”
“Days?”
“At least.”
Now it was my turn to sigh. “Well, I can tell you that Summer said she didn’t eat much at dinner, so her food was probably barely touched. She didn’t have any of the salad, only a few bites of the steak and vegetable side dish.”
“Okay, that’s helpful. I’ll pass that along.”
I hung up, peeked into the room, and saw that Brian and Summer were deep in conversation. So, I took the elevator down to the cafeteria and bought a bottled water and a chocolate muffin. I figured I’d burned off enough calories worrying about Summer to justify the splurge.
I was moving through the tables to a seat near a window when I saw Graham. I moved across the room to his table. He was seated across from a woman. Her back was to me, and all I could see was brown hair cut in a pixie style.
Graham saw me approaching and stood. “Ellie! You must be here to see Summer. How is she?”
“Doing better.”
“Oh, that’s good.” He turned to the woman still seated at the table. “This is Julia’s sister, Audrey.”
At her name, she looked up quickly and seemed to notice me for the first time. “Sorry,” she said, standing and extending her hand. “This has all been such a shock. I’m not all here.” Now that she was looking at me, I could see a resemblance between the two sisters. They both had heart-shaped faces, but Audrey’s chin was more pointed. Her short hair, no makeup, and casual T-shirt and jeans made me think that she wasn’t a fashion plate like Julia, but then again, maybe she just threw some clothes on and hit the road so she could get to her sister’s side as soon as possible.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about Julia. How is she?”