by Adrianne Lee
I finished my coffee, and as I lowered the mug, my gaze met Jade’s in the mirror. “What are you two doing here?”
Meg and I spun on the stools at the same time. Jade’s shoulders were as squared as a defensive end from my favorite football team, the Seattle Seahawks. I said, “Meg had to get out of the house.”
My best friend nodded. “Walls closing in.”
The tightness around Jade’s mouth softened. She gave her long hair a toss, causing the blue streak to bounce like a loose ribbon. “I’m sorry, Meg. I liked your mom, you know.”
“Thanks.”
“Do the police have any idea yet what happened?” Jade asked, the question everyone in the room wanted to ask.
Before Meg could respond, I said, “We heard Tanya was here after the rehearsal dinner broke up.”
“So?” Jade’s animosity showed as her gaze shifted in my direction. Like adopted cats who share the same space, we tolerated each other out of our mutual respect and affection for Meg.
“Were you here too?”
Her chin came up. “What if I was?”
Meg—probably sensing an impending dustup—jumped in. “Jade, you have a truly awesome voice. Do you really have gigs booked in Vegas?”
Jade reined in whatever storm she’d been about to unleash on me, but her nostrils still flared. She gave Meg her full attention and a non-answer. “Why?”
“It’s not a trick question,” I said. “Are you or aren’t you booked in Vegas?”
She cut me a glare. “My agent is working on it.”
“Oh, darn,” Meg said. “Then you have an agent already.”
Jade blinked. “Already?”
“Well, I thought, I mean, really it was Daryl Anne who thought, that if you didn’t have an agent or other representation maybe I could get Peter’s agent to listen to a demo CD. You know, to help you get in front of the right people.”
Jade flipped her hair again. “This was Daryl Anne’s idea?”
I hoped my giveaway expression said that I wasn’t half the bitch she thought I was. Instead, I saw something flash through her gaze that shouldn’t be there. Regret? Shame? Self-reproach? I couldn’t be sure which, and I hadn’t a clue why such a generous offer would cause her to feel any of those emotions.
“I do have a demo CD. In my bag, actually.” She pointed to a table in the corner where a large hobo-style purse perched. She stepped up to the bar and ordered a beer. Once she’d secured it, she gestured for us to join her at her table. As we walked over, she said, “I really did think your mom was a kick, Meg, but honestly, from what I observed, I might’ve been in a minority.”
“It’s okay,” Meg said, swallowing hard and twisting the scrunchie again.
I feared a meltdown in the making. If we were to get through without that, I had to take charge and stay on task. Just the facts, ma’am. Yes, I learned my detecting skills from TV. Don’t judge. It’s the best I have. I pinned Jade with a glance. “Did you notice if Tanya came in alone that night?”
She started to bristle, an automatic reflex, but caught herself. She downed a swig of beer. “She wasn’t alone. And even if she had been, she wouldn’t have been for long. She was a party-starter, you know? When she showed up, the joint got hopping.”
No denying that. “Who did Tanya come in with?”
“That camera dude with the strange eyes.”
My heart tripped and I blurted, “Seth?”
“No. The one she worked with.”
“Kramer.” If he had a first name, I’d never gotten it. I couldn’t reconcile Tanya going out with her cameraman. He’d bolted from the rehearsal dinner shortly after his rant to me. Had he been the vandal who’d destroyed Meg’s wedding? Nah. He’d more likely have found himself a hiding spot to secretly film the whole affair to sell to the tabloids. “How were they getting along?”
“They weren’t. He didn’t stay long. They seemed to have a spat of some kind. I was on stage. I could see them, but was too far away to hear the argument. But just before he left, he shouted, ‘I’m leaving. See you in Tinsel Town, bitch.’ ”
“Then he left before the wedding?”
“I guess. I didn’t see him at the ceremony,” Jade said.
“Therefore not under the sheriff’s orders to stay in town,” I murmured, wondering if he’d somehow managed to skip out after the murder. Or if he’d actually stormed out of here, checked out of his motel, and hightailed it to the airport as he’d implied. Gone. Before Tanya was killed. Jade dug a CD out of her hobo bag and gave it to Meg, thanking her for the opportunity, forgetting that I’d suggested it. She reassured Meg that she had no expectations, but appreciated the chance. I caught that strange look in Jade’s eyes again. Definitely guilt. And regret. As if she were doing something, or had done something, that she was kicking herself for now.
Meg scooted her chair back. “I need to hit the ladies. I’ll be right back.”
I almost went with her, but Jade’s hand landed on my arm. She mouthed, “Stay.”
The moment we were alone, she said, “I didn’t want to ask this in front of Meg, but is it possible that Peter knew her mother before coming to Weddingville?”
Worry about my mother’s strange behavior since the night of the rehearsal dinner had temporarily purged the conversation I’d overheard. And Kramer’s bombshell. But the memory sprang at me now like a rattler, with biting recall, bringing back all the intensity and venom of the moment. Peter warning someone, probably Tanya, “If you say one word about that to Meg, I’ll kill you.”
My mouth dried. “What makes you ask?”
She glanced toward the restrooms, watching out for Meg. “I stayed and had a drink after the last set that night. As I was leaving, I spied Tanya outside, talking to someone parked near the end of the building. Back by the woods. She was standing next to his car. He had the driver’s door open, a leg hanging out. It was a man. I’m not sure that it was Peter, but it was definitely that fancy car of his.”
The Honeymoon Sweet curdled in my stomach. What were the chances of two tan Jaguars bearing California license plates being in town that night? With someone at the wheel who knew Tanya? A gazillion to zero. This information could get my mother out of the frying pan, but it would put Meg’s fiancé directly into the fire. I wasn’t sure she could deal with another kick in the heart. “Did you tell this to the police?”
“Sheriff Gooden hasn’t questioned me yet,” Jade said, frowning.
And I was sure that Peter wasn’t going to volunteer it.
“I’ll have to tell the sheriff, won’t I?” Jade looked horrified by the thought, as if she also realized what it would do to our mutual friend.
“Why don’t you tell me instead,” a male voice said from behind us. Jade and I jumped in our chairs like birds startled off a perch. Troy. As handsome in his uniform as Meg had claimed and even more formidable. His dark expression looked explosive, but he’d keyed into the roomful of onlookers and kept his voice to a low growl. “And then you can tell me what the hell you think you’re doing interfering with a police investigation.”
“It’s not like I was hiding anything,” Jade blurted, “I would have told you that I saw Peter talking to Tanya the night she was murdered as soon as the sheriff questioned me.”
Too late I realized Meg was standing right behind Jade, her eyes as wide as portholes.
“Shit,” Troy barked, spotting her, his scowl deepening. “You’re in on this too?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Troy insisted Jade follow him to the station to take her statement.
Meg sat in the passenger seat of my mother’s car looking confused and angry and scared as I drove us back into town. Despite my hope of sparing her more distress, she’d been handed a hard dose of it. I knew exactly what she was feeling. Peter was now a person of interest in the murder of her mother.
Meg yanked the scrunchie from her hair as if no amount of twisting or tightening could restore her peace of mind. “It couldn’t have been
Peter who Jade saw talking to my mother. It just couldn’t. Why would he? What did they have to talk about?”
Was it time I ’fessed up about what Kramer had told me? About the conversation I’d overheard. About the threat? The thought of hurting her more stole my nerve. I should have mentioned it when Troy started questioning Jade, but I didn’t want Meg to hear it that way. In front of others. The words froze on my tongue.
Meg shoved the scrunchie into her purse, absently opening a tiny container of balm and spreading in on her lips. “How would he even have known she was at The Last Fling? It’s not like he’d give her his cell phone so that she could text him.”
“Sweetie, as often as you misplace your phone, Peter’s number might have gotten out to the whole town by now.”
Even though I’d used my kindest voice, Meg blinked as if I’d slapped her. And I wanted to slap myself. I needed to tell her what I knew—which actually wasn’t much if I broke it down. I couldn’t prove Kramer’s revelation was true. I didn’t know if that was the secret Peter didn’t want Meg to learn. Although I feared it might be.
I gathered every ounce of courage I could. “I haven’t mentioned this to the police.” Yet. “But earlier that night, at the rehearsal dinner, I overheard Peter threaten someone… probably, likely… your mother.”
Her gaze stabbed me. “About what?”
“That’s just it.” I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I didn’t. Not really.
“Maybe you misunderstood, then. Or maybe he was just teasing her.”
Had she ever actually seen Peter tease anyone? Had Santa Claus grown wings and a tail? “He wasn’t kidding.”
She huffed. Meg didn’t want to believe me, but it wasn’t in her nature to leave it alone now that I’d presented it. “What exactly did he say?”
There was no way to soften the actual threat. No way to spare her whatever hurt it might cause to hear Peter’s exact words. “Uh…”
“Tell me.”
I did. And the color drained from her face. “What the hell is going on, Daryl Anne? I feel like I’ve stepped off the edge of the world. Like I’m floating in outer space with nothing to grab on to. No gravity in sight.”
“I’m sorry.” If Peter and Tanya had a past, he should tell her, not me.
She was silent all the way to her dad’s house, then in a wobbly voice, she said, “Do you think Peter killed her?”
The fact that she’d allowed herself to even think that was hard enough to bear, but how much worse would it be if he’d had a fling with Tanya and he’d murdered her to keep it from coming out? But I couldn’t say that to her. “I don’t know.”
“What could be so awful that he’d threaten to kill someone rather than tell me?”
“I don’t know.” I was starting to sound like a talking windup toy programmed to speak only one annoying phrase.
“I have to find out.”
“I’m not sure you should ask your fiancé about this, Meg.” Until the police do.
“Why not?”
Because if he knows that his secret is out, he’ll just lie about what it is to cover his ass. “Because if he thought the secret was worth killing for once, he might—”
“Kill me?” Her voice came out a squeak. “Holy shit. You think he’s guilty.”
“I didn’t say that…” But she was already hurrying up the walk toward her dad’s house, moving as if she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I watched her go, kicking myself again for not handling that better. I didn’t mean to offend her, just to caution her that Peter might be dangerous. He had a hair-trigger temper. I started to follow her, but thought better of it. Her state of mind wouldn’t allow her to listen. I sat there, trying to figure out my next move. Should I call Troy? And say what? “I think Peter is a killer. Protect Meg.” Troy would love any excuse to do just that. Still…
I reached for my cell, found the number, then hesitated. The main reason not to involve Meg’s ex-boyfriend was that she’d be even more angry with me. Better to let her cool off. Think it through. Big Finn was home, greeting her in a bear hug, and pulling her inside. Comforted by the knowledge that he wouldn’t let Peter do anything to harm Meg, I decided to go home and regroup.
I called Seth. He was as close as I wanted to get to the police at the moment. But he didn’t answer. Frustrated, I disconnected and pulled away from the curb. I drove slowly up Front Street. Usually the sight of all the wedding-themed shops brought a lightness to my heart. It was like a mini-carnival with families and friends helping the bride plan the upcoming celebration.
But I realized as the car crawled along the street that something felt off-kilter. Less jovial. There were too many people milling about for a normal weekday. Parking spaces were nonexistent. Had these out-of-towners come for a purpose other than shopping for weddings? Had they come hoping to see where the murder of Peter Wolfe’s future mother-in-law had taken place? Thrill-seekers. Vultures.
I wasn’t getting sucked into this. I pulled into the reserved spot behind the bridal shop and started toward the back door. Darn. I’d taken Mom’s spare key without noticing that it was the only key on the ring. The main salon was packed. I kept my head down and strode through the store and into the back room. Voices from within the sea of dresses slowed my steps. I crept toward the sound, caught by Billie’s whispered words, “So you want to put this on hold for a few more months?”
“Do I have another choice?” Zelda Love. A loud sigh. “I begged him to tell Meg, but he said he didn’t want to ruin her special day.”
I halted. Confusion sifted through me. What secret did Zelda know that could’ve ruined Meg’s special day? Had she also overheard Peter’s threat at the rehearsal dinner? Or was this a different secret?
A rustle of fabric reached me, followed by the sound of a zipper.
“It’s a shame.” Zelda’s voice broke.
“It is,” Billie said. “This town could sure use some happy about now. Has the sheriff questioned you about Big Finn’s whereabouts yet?”
“No. And I’m hoping he won’t.”
What did that mean? Did Zelda and Finn have something to hide from the sheriff? I stepped into view and spied Billie zipping up a dress bag that she’d placed on the hold rack. I asked, “Whatcha doing?”
Zelda and Billie jumped as only two caught in an act of secrecy could manage. Billie moved to block my view of the dress bag. “Nothing.”
What was in the bag that she didn’t want me to see?
“Hello, Daryl Anne.” Zelda blushed, her hand fluttering to her neck. Except for the fluttery hand she looked so unlike herself I might not have recognized her if I hadn’t heard her voice. Gone was the usual parrot-bright outfit I’d come to expect on her. Even her Crayola-yellow hair seemed zapped to a washed-out beige. Maybe it was the head-to-toe black she wore that gave her complexion that pasty hue. Or maybe it was Peter’s secret. Or whatever she didn’t want to tell the sheriff about Big Finn. Or about herself.
Anxiety gnawed my stomach. Too many people I cared about were going to be hurt if this murder wasn’t solved quickly, and I didn’t trust Sheriff Gooden to do the job.
The you-caught-us-doing something-look remained in Zelda’s eyes, even as she said, “Your grandmother was just helping me rearrange some plans for my—one of my clients.”
“That’s right. Nothing you need to fuss about, Daryl Anne,” Billie added, not meeting my gaze. Her tone was meant to squelch my curiosity. I was always amazed that she’d never quite glommed on to the fact that, invariably, this only made me more nosy. But not today. I had enough on my plate. I didn’t care what they were up to. I was in mystery-solving mode.
“There you are,” Seth said, walking into the storeroom. From the glint in his eyes, I was in trouble. He caught my elbow in a stage whisper and dragged me toward the doors that led into the office. “We need to talk.”
Damn. Troy. He’d gotten to Seth before me. “I know Troy is pissed, but—”
“About what?” His brow a
rched. “I haven’t spoken to Troy since I saw you last. Can we go somewhere alone?”
I didn’t want to go anywhere, but upstairs to the Tylenol bottle. I felt tingling in my neck. I glanced behind us. Billie and Zelda, the two most ardent matchmakers in town, were following. Spying on us. I rolled my eyes. If I wasn’t careful, they’d have us engaged and planning our wedding before the night was over. I cast an evil eye at Zelda’s bulging notebook. She used one for each of her brides. The one she had with her today bulged a bit more than Meg’s had. I shuddered at the possibility that my name—not some so-called customer’s—was on that folder. Gooseflesh had me rubbing my arms. I wasn’t staying in Weddingville. I wasn’t marrying Seth. Although the thought sent an unbidden twinge of regret through my heart—which was strange considering we hadn’t so much as kissed. “This way,” I told him.
The elevator was compact, our bodies touching unavoidably, Seth’s scent lacing every inhaled breath. And now I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him. Heat flushed through me. I tried looking everywhere, except those earnest eyes, that inviting mouth. It was useless. My gaze had a mind of its own.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said, his breath feathering my face.
He’d probably be shocked if I told him. Then again, why hadn’t he ever tried to kiss me? I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to kiss him. Without thinking about it, I did just that. It should have been the most awkward moment in my life. Instead, the quick touch of my mouth to his had the impact of an exploding dynamite cap. Electrodes shot through my bloodstream, setting nerves tingling in every inch of my anatomy.
He was startled when I pulled back as quickly as I’d attacked. “What did do that for?”
Pull back or kiss him? I decided he meant the kiss. No sense lying when he could read my face. “I’ve been wondering if I’d like it.”
“And did you?”
His smirk set my heart thumping. But I made sure that wasn’t written on my face. I shrugged. “Sure. What’s not to like?”