by Adrianne Lee
“Ah, but that still leaves something borrowed,” Billie said, stepping forward. She produced a small velvet box of her own. “These diamond stud earrings were a gift from my late husband on our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Fool man. I don’t even have pierced ears. I’ve never worn them, but I treasure them, and I’d be honored if you’d wear them on your special day, Meg.”
“Oh, Billie, thank you so much. Darn, you’re all conspiring to ruin my makeup.” Her smile wobbled, and Ash daubed the dampness near her eyes without smearing the mascara. Seth caught the special, once-in-a-lifetime moments on film.
“Hey, look at the time,” Meg cried suddenly. “If we don’t leave now, I’ll be late for my wedding.”
“I’ll get you there on time, baby, don’t you worry.” Big Finn offered his arm, and his smiling daughter gladly accepted, her mood seeming as light as a balloon.
I just wished my heavy sense of impending disaster would fill with air and float away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Wedding
The day seemed to have a life of its own, a pulse as primitive as the incoming tide lapping at the shore. A force of nature. Persistent. Persevering. Unstoppable. I stole to a door and slipped outside, anxious to ensure that nothing was amiss. Despite the clear sky and warm sun, gooseflesh broke across my exposed arms and shoulders, chilling me.
Arriving guests found seats on the padded folding chairs that faced the gazebo, their voices muted in deference to the trio of musicians playing Muzak. I rubbed my arms as I stood in the shadows. Watching. The bridesmaids, Meg, Big Finn, and I had been ushered into a private area off the ballroom to wait until the ceremony commenced. But I was too fidgety to stay put. I had the same butterflies in my stomach I got every time our sitcom filmed before a live audience. I would stand backstage, eyeing the costumes one last time, checking the set, counting the audience members.
I scanned the guests, who all seemed appropriately dressed for “small town wedding.” Not that I cared what anyone was wearing—unless it was meant to disrupt the ceremony. I spotted nothing to set off my danger meter, and yet it beeped like a smoke alarm needing a fresh battery. Think about something else, Daryl Anne. Be present in the now. Enjoy. I shifted my gaze to the surroundings, and as I took in the beauty before me, a sweet sensation of delight eclipsed my worry. If I ever get married, I’m hiring Zelda Love as my wedding planner.
Golden ribbons stretched between the rows of padded chairs, anchored at each gap with a stand of creamy roses, blocking guests from using the white runner to access the seating. The rug, like a path of white sand leading to the gazebo, was sprinkled with peach-hued rose petals. Just beyond, at the edge of the shore, the huge, filigreed gazebo was bedecked in ribbons and roses, sparkling as if sprinkled with fairy dust.
Beautiful. Nothing out of place. Why did that worry me?
“What are you doing out here?”
I started. Troy. Dressed in a suit less formal than the groomsmen, he stood out in a crowd of good-looking men.
“I… I…” I avoided his gaze, not wanting him to know I didn’t fully trust his intentions today. But when had I become a coward? I lifted my head, meeting his bright blue eyes. “Can you blame me, after last night, for being anxious?”
“No need. Nothing out of the norm so far.”
So far. That was what worried me. “Are you the only police officer present?”
He shook his head, glancing away as though we weren’t discussing anything more serious than the balmy weather. “There are a couple of others, disguised as guests.”
He swung his gaze back to me. “Is Meg in there?”
Where else would she be? “Why?”
“I want to see her.”
“No.” I didn’t trust his motives farther than the sea is from the shore. “No.”
“Just for a minute.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Did I have to spell it out for him? “You’re only here to keep an eye out for the person making the threats.”
“Are you afraid if Meg talks to me that she’ll call off the wedding?”
“No.” But I couldn’t be sure of it. As I turned to leave, I spied Ash eyeing Troy as if he were a problem she needed to solve for Meg’s sake. Hoping she didn’t act on the impulse, I slipped inside, shutting the door.
Meg grasped my hand, startling me, whispering loud enough to wake the dead, “What is Troy doing here?”
The heat drained from my face, and I couldn’t swallow over the punch bowl-size lump in my throat. She was minutes away from walking down that white aisle to stand at that sparkling gazebo and exchange vows with Peter. If I told her about the threatening note, it would make her more anxious than I was. And I didn’t know for sure if it was a real threat. Oh, who was I kidding? Someone has slashed the tent to ribbons, splashed blood on it. Of course, the threat was genuine.
“Daryl Anne Blessing, what aren’t you telling me? Why is Troy at my wedding?”
“I guess he couldn’t stay away.” It wasn’t a lie exactly. After all, he had been ordered to be here.
She bit her lower lip. “Troy better not say or do anything to upset Peter.”
There wasn’t as much conviction in her voice as I’d liked to have heard. I feared she was going to go ahead with this wedding, no matter what, even if she had a heart full of doubts. I wanted to tell her again that, if she had misgivings, it wasn’t too late. Sometimes the bravest thing is to back out of a marriage before you get into it. Even if it’s minutes before exchanging vows. But Meg seemed determined to see this through. She already knew how I felt. This was her life, not mine. I opted to butt out, hoping I wouldn’t live to regret that.
We returned to the waiting area where Big Finn was entertaining the bridesmaids with tall tales of a misspent youth. Seth had slipped into the room and was taking candid shots. He turned his lens on me, and my insides quivered sweetly. He lowered the camera, his gaze as warm as a touch on my face. “It’s almost time,” he informed us.
And as if on cue, Zelda bustled in, a daffodil in matching heels and a Jacqueline Kennedy pillbox hat.
Her hand went to her chest as she caught sight of Finn. Then Meg. “Oh my, you’re the most lovely bride, Meg.”
Meg blushed and thanked her. But a ruckus at the door drove a spike into my nerves. Big Finn went to find out the cause, gesturing that we should all step back, out of harm’s way. I caught Meg and tugged her behind me. Sure. That’s me. Woman of Steel. Faster than a speeding bullet. The thought made me sick.
But then I recognized Peter’s voice. And Seth telling Big Finn, “Peter wants the main photos of the wedding party taken before the ceremony. Seems he’s worried about missing the honeymoon flight.”
“No,” Big Finn boomed. “You’re not seeing the bride before the wedding. Bad luck.”
Peter swore, cajoled, pleaded. Finn wasn’t backing down. “That might be the way they do things in Hollywood, but it’s not how we do them in Weddingville.”
Although I couldn’t hear what Seth was saying, I guessed he was trying to reason with the groom. Eventually, Peter seemed to realize that this was taking up precious moments he’d need after the ceremony. And maybe he also understood that he wouldn’t win in a fight with his future father-in-law. That alpha dog had just lifted his leg and pissed all over any such notion.
Zelda stepped in and told Seth to take Peter and his groomsmen to the gazebo. Then she waited a few beats and got the rest of us moving toward the door, making sure that we all knew what we were supposed to do, where to stand. Next thing, she was guiding us outside and toward the white carpet.
As I stepped outside, my gaze took in the gathered well-wishers, smiles on their faces as they turned to watch the wedding party glide across the white carpet. Meg’s voice echoed through my mind. “Perfect.”
The uneasy feeling swept me again, a whispery breeze down my spine. The hairs on my nape twitched. My mouth dried. I scanned the guests, the
catering staff, and the trio of musicians. Nothing I could pinpoint, but the clawing in my stomach seemed to increase with every step toward the altar.
Peter and his agent were on one side of the minister, the bridesmaids on the other. Reverend Bell was white-knuckling a small black Bible as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He had the beanpole lankiness of a lifelong drinker, though I’d never known him to imbibe in anything stronger than iced tea. The virgin kind. As I took my place, the wedding march began.
All heads turned toward the end of the aisle. To Meg and Big Finn. I heard the soft click of Seth’s camera somewhere behind me, then he kneeled in front of me to capture father and daughter marching toward him. Click. Click. Click. Click. As he rose, he winked at me. I supposed he thought to calm me, but those chocolate eyes only made my insides melt.
As Meg arrived, I saw Troy take a stand at the end of the aisle. I prayed he wouldn’t disrupt the ceremony, but given the upheaval in the world, God might have more important things to do than controlling a spurned lover. Troy seemed to have forgotten why he was here. His watchful gaze had only one target. Meg. She must have sensed it. She glanced over her shoulder, then quickly turned back toward Peter. I wanted to shout at Troy to do his job.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister began. I forced myself to be in the moment, though I was too anxious to enjoy it. Reverend Bell seemed to reach the if-anyone-here-knows-any-reason-why-these-two-should-not-be-joined-in-holy-wedlock-speak-now-or-forever-hold-your-peace part of the vows quicker than I’d anticipated. I held my breath. Expecting Troy to shout out his love. I was even more afraid I’d blurt out that Meg was making a mistake. Gulls cried overhead. The surf lapped the shore. But no one spoke. Thank you. Tension flowed out of me on an exhaled breath.
“Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?” Reverend Bell asked, his voice slurred. My attention shifted to him, and I frowned. His pupils were the pinpoints of someone high on drugs. I’d never known him to drink, but I hadn’t considered drugs.
The minister started again, his words less pronounced, “Who gives this-s wo-oman…”
I glanced away, toward the water. A flash of red on the shore caught my eye. A lump about the size of an adult seal. I squinted against the glare, focusing on it.
Big Finn said, “I give—”
A collective gasp sounded behind me. I shifted around in time to see Peter catching Reverend Bell as he toppled from the gazebo headfirst. “Shit,” Peter swore, grunting as he lowered the collapsed minister to the steps.
“What the hell?” Big Finn asked.
People rushed forward. Instinctively, I retreated several steps, my heart thundering in my chest.
Peter shouted, “Someone get a doctor!”
Seth held his hands wide, a human barricade, keeping the gawkers back. “People, give the man some air.”
I moved out of the way too, rethinking my conclusion that the reverend might be on drugs. Perhaps he’d suffered a heart attack or stroke. The ground beneath my heel gave. I froze, glancing over my shoulder. Dear God, I’d almost stepped off the edge of the shoreline. The flash of red caught my eye again. I blinked several times, certain I must be hallucinating. Oh God. No. I wasn’t. Shock speared me. My mouth opened. No sound came out. One second I couldn’t breathe, the next a blood curdling scream ripped from my throat.
“Jesus. Now what?” Big Finn demanded, rushing to my side, but he froze as he took in the cause of my shrieks. Meg slipped up next to her dad. She saw it too. A body. A woman with blond hair wearing a red dress. I couldn’t seem to stop screaming. Meg—usually the hysterical one—covered her mouth, her eyes bugging out. Her face turned ashen. She crumbled in a heap of crinoline and lace. Out cold.
Peter arrived and skidded to a stop. His gaze grew wide, and he made a strangling sound. He gagged, once, twice, and threw up. On Meg. The rest was a blur. I vaguely recalled Seth catching me before I too collapsed. The moment he took hold of me, his soft voice cutting through my terror, I felt the panic subsiding, as if I’d found a safe haven. He hauled me to the nearest vacant seat, and I let him wrap me in his jacket and hold me against his strong chest.
Troy shouted, “Get back. Everyone. Stand back now. This is official police business.” He headed toward the body, but his first concern was Meg. He ordered Big Finn to get her away from the beach to somewhere warm. Once she was safely in her father’s arms, Troy hurried to the body, speaking into his phone. No doubt ordering backup and the coroner. A siren could be heard over the din. The ambulance for Reverend Bell. EMTs flashed past me, rushing to the minister.
Even with Seth’s jacket around my shoulders and him sharing his body heat, I couldn’t stop shaking. “Is Reverend Bell…?”
I couldn’t bring myself to ask out loud if he was dead too. A wave of nausea swept over me. If you don’t stop this wedding, I will. I expected something, but not this. Not a dead body. I’d been underplaying the seriousness of the threat.
“I’m not sure,” Seth said. “He was still breathing, but rather shallowly.” We watched the EMTs strap him to a gurney and hustle him to the ambulance. “Someone said heart attack, but that might just be speculation.”
Neither of us mentioned the body in the red dress. I figured Seth was afraid I’d start screaming again. I might. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.
“Come on, Daryl Anne.” Seth helped me to my feet, cradling my elbow, his other arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you inside.”
Meg had revived. The beautiful bride of earlier was now a zombie in a soiled wedding gown, smeared makeup, and light-socket hair. Her eyes were dull, dazed. “Who is it?” She asked as Seth guided me into the room. “Who?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know. Not for sure. But that red dress looked like the one Tanya had been wearing the night before. Tanya with the blond hair. Maybe she hadn’t left town after all.
* * *
Sheriff Gooden broke the news, confirming our worst fears. Troy reassured Meg that he’d do everything possible to find out what had happened. Meg nodded, but seemed to withdraw into herself, a strange hollowness claiming her eyes, as if she’d disappeared into a place none of us could reach. Peter gave up trying in the first few seconds. He and Walter huddled, bouncing ideas of how to put a positive spin on the wedding fiasco and shocking death of his future mother-in-law.
That snapped the shock right out of me. I shrugged off Seth’s jacket, cut into the conversation, and caught Peter by the lapel of his tuxedo. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He tried to wrench free of my grasp, but my finger had snagged in a buttonhole, and I hung on tight. He peered down his nose and said, “Have you lost your mind?”
“Have you lost yours? Your fiancée’s mother is in a body bag on her way to the morgue. Meg needs you. She should be the only thing you’re thinking of right now. Not media coverage. Let your agent call your publicist. They can write a statement for the press. You. Go. Be. With. Meg.”
Peter’s face paled beneath his tan as he realized the room had gone quiet. Everyone was staring at us. Including Meg. Her gaze was riveted on Peter. We were all waiting for his response. I wished I could believe the contrition that softened his stance and filled his eyes. But he was too skilled an actor. I no longer trusted him to have a genuine emotion.
Peter swallowed as if ashamed of his thoughtless attitude, an Emmy-winning performance. Someone hand him the gold statue now. “Walter,” he said to his agent, “give Simon a call. Explain the situation and have him prepare a statement to use as soon as it becomes necessary. I need to get Meg away from here.”
He held his hand toward Meg and went to her side, taking her into his arms. She collapsed against him and began to sob. My fury at her insensitive fiancé dissipated. A fissure cracked across my heart, spilling a sense of helplessness through me.
At the door, Sheriff Gooden stopped them. “Don’t leave town. That goes for all of you,” he said to the bridal party. “I have a lot of questions that need answering.
I’ll be in touch as quickly as possible so as not to delay travel plans some of you likely have.”
“We’ll be at a hotel in Tacoma then,” Peter said. “My agent will phone you the details once we’ve secured a reservation.”
“Nope.” Sheriff Gooden shook his head. “Stay in Weddingville.”
Peter’s protestations fell on deaf ears. I knew he was worried that word about this whole mess would bring a slew of reporters. The sheriff didn’t want to hear it. Not his problem. “I said I’d get to you quickly, and I will.”
I wished Seth was still beside me, but he’d been commandeered to photograph the crime scene. Crime was relatively nonexistent in this town, but whenever one was committed, the police called Seth to do the photos. It might be his first dead body. I didn’t know. I hugged myself, forcing my mind away from the corpse and back to the sheriff’s intention of questioning everyone. I supposed he needed to figure out how Tanya came to be in the water.
But somehow the “don’t leave town” demand seemed a little too criminal-detective show for an accidental death. Did the sheriff suspect foul play?
* * *
As Seth escorted me back to Blessing’s Bridal, I was swept with a sense of the surreal. Normal seemed out of place. Off-kilter after the past two hours. Customers strolling the sidewalks, enjoying the warm weather, window shopping, laughing, chatting. Traffic moved at a crawl down Front Street. Lovers held hands, grinning at each other. Mothers and daughters argued about the cost of invitations. Or flowers.
I stepped inside the bridal shop, opting for the front entrance, hoping the scents and aura would return my solid foundation. It didn’t. Mom and Gram each had a different set of customers. The entourage of Mom’s group oohed and ahhed over the displayed gowns. Offering conflicting opinions. Unaware of the cloud of confusion forming in the bride-to-be’s eyes.
The future mother-in-law of Gram’s group had ambushed the appointment, complaining the dress the bride-to-be seemed to love made her hips look fat. I wanted to shout at them all to just shut up. To be happy for this coming wedding, to support the future marriage of their friend or loved one. That life was too short. That so many things could go wrong.