by Sarah Fox
But what if it wasn’t true? Sometimes couples put on a good front for the rest of the world, keeping up the appearance of a perfect relationship, but behind the scenes the story could be quite different. I had no way of knowing if that was the case, however.
Maybe once the autopsy and toxicology reports were in, Ray’s theory would become the official ruling. But until that happened, I knew I’d continue to wonder if there’d been two murders in Wildwood Cove that week.
* * * *
After I’d closed and cleaned The Flip Side that afternoon, I returned to the office to retrieve the box holding my wedding dress. I’d brought it to work with me that morning so I could swing by Sally North’s tailor shop on the way home. Before leaving the pancake house, I lifted the lid off the box, unable to resist taking another peek at the gown. Every time I looked at it, excitement fluttered in my stomach.
Sometimes I couldn’t believe how well things were going in my life. After the deaths of my stepfather and stepsiblings, and before I’d moved to Wildwood Cove, I had in many ways hidden away from the world. I’d buried myself in a job that I didn’t hate but didn’t love, and my one relationship that had gone beyond a few dates didn’t end well.
Looking back, I knew I hadn’t made the best choices when it came to my relationship with my previous boyfriend, Ryan. Now I wondered if I’d done that on purpose, although subconsciously so. As much as part of me had wanted to find love, I’d ignored red flags that should have told me early on that Ryan wasn’t the guy for me. Maybe because the fact that he wasn’t right for me meant I’d never truly give my heart to him. And if I never fell completely in love, then I wouldn’t have to risk losing someone else who held a piece of my heart.
Moving to Wildwood Cove had changed my life, had changed me. It was partly the place; I’d always loved Wildwood Beach, and the ocean had a way of soothing me while also making me feel alive. But even more than the place, it was the people here who’d brought me out of hiding so I could live life to the fullest again. I had such great friends here in Wildwood Cove, and Brett… He was largely responsible for healing my heart.
And now we were getting married. I wouldn’t have said that it was a dream come true because what we had together was better than anything I’d ever dreamed, anything I could have wished for.
Letting the fabric of my wedding dress slide through my fingers, I carefully packed it away again. I tucked the box under my arm and set off on foot into the heart of Wildwood Cove.
Sally North’s shop was situated on Pacific Street, nestled between a small restaurant and a thrift shop. A bell jingled when I opened the door and stepped inside. There was a small reception area with a desk, a couch, and a coffee table. An open door directly across from where I stood led into another room. A shadow moved beyond the doorway, and Avery appeared a second later.
“Hi,” I said with a small dose of surprise. “I didn’t realize you worked here.”
“I don’t, really,” Avery said. “It’s my aunt’s shop. I stopped by to say hi, and now I’m watching the place for a few minutes while she runs a quick errand.” She looked at the box I was holding. “Do you need something altered?”
“Yes. I was hoping to find out if your aunt can make a couple of changes to my dress.”
“I’m sure she can. She can do pretty much anything with a needle and thread.”
“Is it all right if I wait?” I asked.
“Sure. She won’t be long.”
I took a seat on the couch, resting the box on my knees.
Avery leaned against the desk, her gaze fixed on me. “How long have you known Tommy?”
Somehow I wasn’t surprised she’d brought Tommy into the conversation.
“He started working at the pancake house two springs ago, so over a year now.”
She continued to watch me with her gray eyes. I wouldn’t have called her gaze hostile, but it certainly wasn’t friendly. I recalled the prickling sensation I’d experienced outside of Johnny’s Juice Hut and felt certain she’d been the cause of it. I suspected I knew why she was acting cool toward me.
“How about you?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t noticed her attitude.
“We met last week, but we clicked right away.”
I didn’t think I’d imagined the hint of defensiveness in her tone.
“He’s already taken some awesome photos of the athletes,” she continued.
“I saw one on the front page of the paper,” I said. “He’s a very talented photographer. I’m lucky he’ll be taking the pictures at my wedding.”
Avery perked up. “Wedding?”
“I’m getting married in August.” I tapped the box on my lap. “It’s my wedding dress I need altered.”
“Oh, cool.” She sounded relieved, and the iciness in her eyes melted away.
I knew then I’d been right in suspecting she was worried we might have designs on the same guy.
Silence fell between us. It was on the verge of becoming awkward when the front door opened with a jingle of the bell above it. A middle-aged woman with curly dark hair entered the shop.
“Thanks for hanging around, Avery,” she said before turning to me. “Hello. I’m Sally North. Are you here to see me?”
“She needs her wedding dress altered,” Avery said before I had a chance to respond. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Aunt Sally.”
“Bye, hon,” Sally said as Avery disappeared out the front door. She smiled at me. “Sorry about the wait.”
“No problem,” I assured her. “I’ve only been here a few minutes.”
I introduced myself and told her about my dress.
“There are a couple of things I’m hoping can be altered,” I explained.
“Bring the dress in the back and I’ll have a look.”
Sally led the way into a larger room with several dress forms standing along one wall. A folding screen blocked off one corner of the room, and two chairs sat in another corner.
I set my box on a long worktable and removed the lid.
“That’s gorgeous,” Sally remarked as I withdrew the gown.
I told her about needing the bandeau top taken in. “And I was hoping the skirt could be shortened a bit. The wedding will be on the beach, and I don’t want the hem to drag in the sand too much.”
“Both should be easy fixes. Do you have time to try it on for me now? I’ve got about an hour before my next appointment.”
“Sure. That would be great.”
I ducked behind the folding screen and changed into the dress before stepping back out into the open. I held up the top so it wouldn’t slide down. Sally quickly remedied that situation with tucks and pins. Then she had me stand on a stool so she could work on the hem.
“Have you taken in any of the sporting events this week?” she asked as she worked.
“A couple. I watched a friend’s race and went to a tennis match the other night.”
“I guess you’ve probably heard the news about the tennis player who died.”
“I did,” I confirmed. “It was terrible news. I had a chance to meet him and his wife at my pancake house last week.”
Sally shook her head sadly as she moved around behind me. “I still can’t believe it. I went to school with him and his wife, Rowena, in Seattle. Rowena and I stayed in touch over the years, and I was hoping to catch up with her during the games. I never imagined something like this would happen.”
“I think it was a shock to everyone,” I said.
“Easton was a good man.” She paused as she worked away at pinning the hem at the back of the dress. “You know,” she continued after a moment, “I always thought Rowena had a charmed life. Her family was well-off, she was popular at school, she was a talented athlete, and she went on to have a wonderful marriage. But more recently, life hasn’t been so kind to her.”
“I he
ard that she and Easton lost their son a couple of years ago.”
Sally reappeared in front of me, assessing the way the skirt of my dress was hanging with a critical eye. “That’s right. He was a talented tennis player too, just like his parents. But his car went off the road one night and into a river.”
My chest tightened. “That’s awful.” I knew too well how difficult that would have been for his family.
“I think it would have broken Rowena completely if she hadn’t had Easton in her life,” Sally said. “I don’t know what she’ll do now. I’m planning to stop by her yacht in the morning to see how she’s holding up.”
“I know her friend Pippa Hampshire is keeping an eye on her.”
“I don’t know Pippa, but I’m glad Rowena’s got someone to lean on.” Sally surveyed the dress one last time and then nodded with approval. “That should do it. I can have the alterations finished for you by the end of next week.”
With Sally’s assistance, I carefully stepped off the stool, making sure not to get my feet caught up in the fabric.
“That’s fantastic. Thank you so much.”
“Careful of the pins,” she warned as I slipped behind the folding screen.
I heeded her advice and managed to get out of the dress without any pins poking me. When I had my clothes on again, I handed the dress over to Sally.
“You don’t think Easton’s death could be related to the reporter’s death, do you?” I asked, managing not to sound like it was something I’d already considered.
“Oh, gosh, no. I don’t see how it could be. I heard the reporter was murdered.”
“She was.”
“Then they’re definitely not related. I was told Rowena was the only one on board the yacht with Easton when he went overboard. And anyone who suspects her of killing her own husband would be barking up the wrong tree. Heck, they’d be in the wrong forest. Those two were devoted to each other. Rowena would never kill him and she had no reason to, anyway.”
“No money troubles or infidelity?”
“Absolutely not. They both come from well-off families and Easton had a successful dental practice. Besides, like I said, they were devoted to each other. Easton’s death was an accident, pure and simple. It had to be.”
I pretended to accept her word for it, but the truth was that I still wasn’t quite convinced.
Chapter Fifteen
As I walked away from Sally’s shop, my stomach gave a rumble of hunger. Instead of heading straight home, I made a detour to the Beach and Bean so I could grab a frozen lemonade and a maple pecan muffin. My plan was to get the items to go and leave the bustling coffee shop, but as I stood in line at the counter to place my order, I reconsidered.
Rowena Miller was sitting by herself at a small table tucked away at the back of the coffee shop. The place was crowded and every table was occupied, but Rowena seemed oblivious to all the chatter going on around her. She sat with her hands clasped around her cup, staring blankly at the tabletop.
I wondered if I should leave her alone, but by the time I had my drink and muffin in hand, I decided to speak to her briefly and then leave her in peace. I could almost feel her grief as I approached. It was like an invisible but palpable cloud around her.
She didn’t notice me even once I stood right next to her table.
“Rowena?”
She raised her head slowly. Her eyes were blank at first, but she recognized me a second later.
“The owner of the pancake house, right?”
“That’s right. Marley McKinney.” I hesitated a second before continuing. “I’m so sorry about your husband. I don’t want to bother you, but I just wanted to say that.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes grew misty but cleared a second later. “And you’re not bothering me.” She glanced at my drink and the small paper bag that held my muffin. “Will you join me? I’m probably not great company, but I could use the distraction.”
“Of course.” I set my snack down on the table. “Can I get you anything first?” I asked with a glance at her nearly empty cup. “Another drink? Something to eat?”
“No, but thank you. I don’t have much of an appetite these days.”
“That’s understandable.” I sat in the seat across from her and took a sip of my lemonade.
Rowena attempted a smile, but it died away before it fully took shape. “Your pancake house is certainly popular. That’s not a surprise, though. The food there is delicious.”
“Thank you. This is usually a busy time of year at The Flip Side, but it’s been extra busy lately with the athletes and coaches in town for the games.”
“Yes, the games.” She tipped her cup to check the contents, but made no move to drink what was left. “I’m afraid I haven’t been supporting my fellow athletes like I’d planned.”
“I’m sure everyone understands.”
She smiled sadly. “Yes. I’ve had so many messages on my phone, and others passed on by Pippa. Everyone’s been very kind.” Her hand shook as she finally raised her cup to finish her drink.
“Will you be returning to Seattle soon?” I asked before taking a sip of my frozen lemonade.
“Not until next week. I’ll be leaving the yacht here; I have cousins who will deal with it for me. Pippa is going to drive me back home, once the games are over. She offered to drive me earlier, but I don’t want her missing out on any of the games, and I don’t want to leave until Easton’s… until he’s been released.”
“Do you know when that will happen?”
“Probably in the next day or two.” She dug around in her handbag and produced a tissue.
I asked my next question before I had a chance to think better of it. “And his death is still considered accidental?”
Rowena’s gaze snapped up to mine. “It was an accident.”
“He didn’t have any drugs in his system when he went overboard?”
“Of course not!”
“Sorry,” I said quickly, not wanting to upset her further. “I only ask because Yvonne Pritchard took or was given a drug before she died, one that could have made her drowsy and possibly easier to kill.”
Rowena’s shoulders relaxed, and she dabbed at her nose with the tissue. “My husband had nothing to do with that woman. Why would you think his death was related to hers?”
“Only because they happened so close together and both were found in or near the water.”
“Well, that’s where the similarities end. That woman hurt people right, left, and center, but my Easton didn’t have an enemy in the world. Yvonne was murdered. My husband died in a terrible accident.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and I regretted pushing the conversation as far as I had.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” I said.
“It’s more the whole situation that has me upset. I hope I wasn’t too brusque with you.”
“Of course not.” I slipped the remains of my muffin into the paper bag and stood up. “I’d better be off, but I really am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, more subdued again.
As I left the coffee shop, I took a long drink of my frozen lemonade. I regretted it a second later when I ended up with a brain freeze. When the pain subsided and I could think clearly again, I decided I could cross Rowena’s name off my suspect list.
My suspicion that Easton’s death could be related to Yvonne’s seemed unfounded. Rowena was the only one with the opportunity to kill her husband, and I now knew she hadn’t harmed him. Her grief was intense and genuine. Now that I’d witnessed it firsthand, I didn’t doubt that for a second. She’d loved him deeply and she now missed him terribly.
While it was something of a relief to know that the murderer hadn’t already struck twice, I didn’t feel any closer to figuring out who the killer was. I decided I’d focus on the puzzle later. At the
moment, I had some errands to run.
* * * *
I walked toward the marina and sat on a bench while I finished off my muffin and frozen lemonade. I was relieved to see that nothing was out of the ordinary today. Boaters were coming and going down at the docks while people passed by me on the sidewalk, licking ice cream cones or munching on fish and chips. No more bodies had been pulled from the water, and I hoped it would stay that way.
As nice as it was to sit there watching the world while the sun warmed my skin, I didn’t let myself stay there too long. Once I’d finished my snack, I headed for Timeless Treasures, the antiques shop on Main Street. The owner, Mr. Gorski, was helping me track down a special item I wanted to buy as a birthday gift for Brett. The last time I’d checked in with Mr. Gorski, he hadn’t yet found the right item at the right price.
This time, however, my luck was better. I had to wait a few minutes while Mr. Gorski helped another customer, but then he called me over from across the shop where I was admiring a porcelain mantel clock.
“I’ve got good news for you today, Marley,” he said as I headed his way. “I got in touch with a dealer I know down in Oregon, and he’s got just what you want in stock. Take a look.” He turned the monitor of his computer around so I could see the screen.
Excitement bubbled up in my chest. “It’s gorgeous!”
The picture on the screen showed a salvaged ship’s wheel with a brass hub. It appeared to be in good condition, and the wood had a beautiful reddish tone.
“It’s a forty-two-inch mahogany wheel, just like you wanted,” Mr. Gorski informed me.
“It’s perfect.” I tried to keep my growing excitement in check, needing to know more before I made any final decisions. “What about the price?”
“Slightly over your budget, but not by much.”
He quoted me the price. It was a bit more than I’d planned to spend, but I thought it was worth it.
“And it can be delivered by early August?” I checked.
“Within the next couple of weeks,” he assured me.