by Sarah Fox
“Did you choose your dresses?” I asked, noting the shopping bags they carried.
“We bought them in Port Angeles yesterday,” Chloe replied, practically bubbling with excitement.
“Don’t worry,” Lisa added. “We’ve got the receipts so we can take them back if you don’t like them.”
“I’m sure I’ll love them.” I led them down the hall to the office. “You both have better fashion sense than I do.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Lisa said.
I glanced down at my graphic tee and worn jeans. “I am.”
When we reached the office, Chloe stopped and put her hands on her hips. “I have a complaint, Marley.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be apprehensive or not. She didn’t look mad.
“Lisa’s seen your wedding dress and I haven’t!”
“Oops,” I said. “Sorry. It’s at the tailor’s.”
“Show her the photo we took at my place,” Lisa urged.
Before taking off the dress, I’d snapped a quick picture of my reflection in the mirror. I found the photo on my phone and showed it to Chloe.
“Oh my gosh!” She took the device from me so she could get a closer look. “Marley!” Tears welled in her eyes.
“Don’t cry!” I grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk and handed it to her. “We’re not even at the wedding yet.”
“But it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
“Right?” Lisa chimed in. When Chloe sniffled, Lisa nudged her arm. “You’re going to get me going too.”
“No tears,” I said. “You’re supposed to be showing me your dresses.”
Chloe returned my phone to me and dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “Okay,” she said with determination. “No more tears.”
She and Lisa removed their purchases from the shopping bags. The style of the dresses was the same, but they were different colors. Lisa’s was made from emerald green satin while Chloe’s was deep blue.
“What do you think?” Lisa asked as they held up the garments.
“They’re perfect.” I had to take a second to rein in my emotions so I didn’t break my own rule about tearing up. “They’re like the colors of the ocean.”
Lisa and Chloe beamed at each other.
“That’s exactly what we thought,” Chloe said. “We knew you’d like that, especially since you’re having a beach wedding.”
“They really are perfect.” I let the fabric of Lisa’s dress slide through my fingers. “Are you both happy with them?”
They assured me that they were.
“Then it’s settled,” I said with a smile. “Those are officially your bridesmaid dresses.”
Lisa and Chloe let out squeals of happiness, and the next second I was squished in the middle of a group hug. I didn’t mind one bit.
“Now for the next order of business,” I said once they’d released me. “Who’s hungry?”
Chapter Twenty-One
It took over an hour for Lisa, Chloe, and me to get through the stacks of banana nut pancakes and sides of fruit salad that we ate in the office. We did more chatting and laughing than eating, and when they left the pancake house, I continued to bubble with happiness. I’d had some good friends in Seattle when I lived there—I still kept in touch with a couple of them—but my friendships with Lisa and Chloe were two of the best I’d ever had, and I counted myself lucky to have them in my life. In a month, I’d be marrying into Chloe’s family, and that made me even luckier. I knew not everyone loved their in-laws, but I wouldn’t have that problem.
I returned to the dining area in time to take over for Sienna so she could hurry off to a dental appointment. The lunch rush kept me and Leigh plenty busy, and I didn’t realize that Levi and Pippa had arrived at The Flip Side until they were already eating the meals Leigh had served them. They sat at one of the small tables out in front of the pancake house, which explained how I’d missed their arrival. Leigh was looking after those tables. Nevertheless, as I was making my way around the restaurant, offering coffee refills, I decided to head outside and say hello.
“He must have wanted something,” Pippa was saying to Levi as I refilled coffee mugs at the neighboring table. She sounded annoyed, not quite her usual composed self.
“He just wanted to ask a few questions about Yvonne.” Levi spoke quietly, but I was still able to pick up his words.
“But you barely knew the woman.”
“No, but I spoke to her before she died.”
I couldn’t hesitate any longer than I already had. I either had to approach their table or go back inside the pancake house. Otherwise I’d look conspicuous and they’d probably figure out I was eavesdropping.
Making up my mind, I turned toward their table.
“Afternoon.” I held up the coffeepot and gave them a cheery smile. “More coffee?”
“Please.” Pippa nudged her mug my way. She attempted a polite smile, but her features were taut.
“Will you be attending the banquet next week?” I asked, making conversation while I topped off both their mugs. The banquet was for the athletes, coaches, and volunteers, a way to wrap up the Golden Oldies Games.
“We will,” Pippa responded. “And Rowena will be going with us.”
“Oh, that’s good,” I said.
“They’ll be honoring Easton at the banquet,” Levi explained. “And Yvonne.”
Pippa frowned, but said nothing.
“That’s nice,” I said.
With both their mugs full, I couldn’t think of another reason to hang around. I excused myself and returned inside.
From what I’d overheard, I gathered Levi had been questioned as part of the murder investigation. The information Jay had given me about Levi’s issue with the reporter must have reached Ray and his deputies as well. Levi had indicated to Pippa that the questions were nothing serious, but was that the truth?
Leigh was in the middle of taking a long order for a party of six when one of the tables outside became vacant, so I slipped out to fetch the dirty dishes. Pippa and Levi were just getting ready to leave their table. Pippa gathered up her purse as Levi dropped some bills on the table.
“I don’t want you to worry,” he said to Pippa as he stuffed his wallet into his pocket. “I’ll make sure everything’s fine.”
She still appeared tense. “I think I’ve proven to you that I’m not fragile.”
Levi put an arm around her and led her off down the promenade. I watched them go, not knowing what to make of Levi. He seemed like a decent guy, but that was nothing more than an impression. I didn’t really know much about him when it came down to it. I felt like I shouldn’t discount him entirely as a potential killer, although others certainly had stronger motives to harm Yvonne than he did.
As I carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, I tried to stamp out a flicker of frustration. I needed to eliminate some suspects from my list. I felt like I was spinning my wheels, kicking up a bunch of sand but getting nowhere. I was tempted to give up on the whole mystery and narrow my focus to my upcoming wedding, but when I exited the kitchen I saw Ed sitting across the pancake house with Gary. Ed didn’t look quite as devastated as the last time he’d eaten at The Flip Side, but he still wasn’t his usual jovial self.
Leigh had just finished taking their orders, but when Ed caught my eye, I knew I couldn’t avoid him.
“I guess you know by now that Yvonne didn’t die by accident,” he said as soon as I approached their table.
“I do,” I confirmed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Are you still looking into her death?”
“I am,” I said, wondering how much I should reveal. I decided to be open with him. “But I’ve got a long list of suspects that seems to keep getting longer.”
Ed’s face fell. At first I thought it was because I’d let him dow
n by not solving the case yet, but then Gary spoke up.
“So it’s true then?”
“What’s true?” I asked.
“That a lot of people wanted Yvonne dead,” Ed said sadly. “That’s what we’re hearing around town.”
“I don’t know if a lot of people wanted her dead, but… Yvonne did have a habit of rubbing people the wrong way.”
Ed nodded, his face somber. “I’ve heard a lot of stories over the last few days. At first I didn’t want to believe any of them, but now I think I didn’t know the true Yvonne.”
“Unfortunately, I think that might be the case,” I said gently.
“But she still didn’t deserve to be murdered,” Gary said.
“That’s right.” Ed sat up straighter. “She didn’t. She still deserves justice.”
“She does,” I agreed. “But I don’t know if I’m the one to help her get it.”
“You can’t give up, Marley.” Ed was fired up by his newfound determination. “You can figure it out. I know you can.”
“I appreciate your faith in me,” I said. “But I’m really not sure how much I’ll be able to do.”
“But you won’t give up, will you?” Ed pleaded. “Whatever bad things Yvonne might have done in her life, the killer’s done worse.”
That was probably true, but even if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to disappoint Ed. Although I lacked Ed’s belief in my investigative abilities, I assured him that I’d keep trying. If I didn’t want to let Ed down, I had no other option.
* * * *
My appointment at the flower shop was scheduled for that afternoon. As soon as I was finished up at The Flip Side for the day, I walked over to Blooms by the Beach, where Sylvia—the shop’s owner—led me over to a small table with two chairs. She offered me tea or coffee, but I declined, and we got down to business. She had a binder full of photos of flower arrangements, bouquets, and centerpieces.
“We can always come up with something custom as well,” she assured me as I opened the binder to the first page. “This is a great source of ideas, though.”
“Everything’s so beautiful,” I said after I flipped through a few pages. “I don’t know how I’m going to choose.”
“It can be a bit overwhelming if you don’t come in with a firm idea of what you want. Why don’t we start by talking about your favorite flowers and whatever ideas you might have? Then I can show you some samples that might fit.”
That suggestion brought me a rush of relief. The vast selection had me more overwhelmed than I’d realized.
“I know I don’t want any lilies,” I said. “They’re gorgeous, but I’ve got pets and I know they’re poisonous.”
“We can definitely avoid those.” Sylvia wrote something in the spiral notebook she’d brought to the table.
I told her about the arbor that Brett was building. “I was hoping we could weave some colorful flowers into it and maybe some greenery.”
“That would look stunning.” Sylvia flipped through the binder. “I can show you photos of similar things we’ve done in the past.”
We spent several minutes poring over the photos. When Sylvia flipped to a picture of an archway decorated with sunflowers and greenery, I immediately pointed to it.
“I love that. The sunflowers are so bright. Happy.”
“And perfect for an August wedding,” Sylvia added. “That’s a great choice.”
Once we’d decided on the type of greenery to put on the arbor with the sunflowers, we moved on.
“What else will you need?” Sylvia asked.
“Two centerpieces for the food tables, my bouquet, and bouquets for the two bridesmaids. I’d like a lot of color, especially for my bouquet. Maybe we can use sunflowers again, but mixed in with something else?”
“Absolutely.” Sylvia flipped through the binder again. “How about something like this?”
The photo she pointed out showed a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and deep pink gerbera daisies with plenty of bright greenery. Just looking at the photo made me happy. I didn’t doubt that the real thing would be even more gorgeous.
“That’s it,” I said without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
We spent another half hour going over all the details before everything was finalized. I had a moment of worry as we finished up, wondering if I’d made the right decisions, but then I brushed that concern aside. There probably wasn’t a wrong decision. The flowers I’d chosen would look beautiful. It didn’t matter if they weren’t what someone else would have chosen for their wedding. I knew Brett would be happy. All he’d requested was no daffodils, since he was allergic to them.
When Sylvia and I talked about payment, I almost winced at the cost, even though it was—barely—within the budget Brett and I had set for the flowers. We had the money to pay for the flowers, and the rest of the wedding, but I didn’t want to know what a more elaborate event would have cost.
As I tucked my credit card back in my wallet, a man in his late fifties or early sixties entered the shop.
Sylvia’s assistant, Bridget, greeted him and asked, “How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my wife.” He smiled with pride. “She just won her triathlon competition.”
“That’s wonderful!” Bridget exclaimed, coming out from behind the counter.
Sylvia and I added our congratulations. As Bridget showed the man around the shop, pointing out some ready-made bouquets and explaining the other options available, Sylvia and I hashed out the last details about delivery of the flowers for the wedding. By the time we were wrapping up, the man had picked out a bouquet of lilies for his wife and Bridget was ringing up his purchase.
“Is your wife coached by Nash Harlow?” I asked, unable to keep my curiosity in check.
“No. Thank goodness,” the man answered.
Interest sparked in Bridget’s eyes. “Is there something wrong with Nash… whatever his name is?” she asked.
Apparently I wasn’t the only curious one in the shop.
The man frowned. “I’ve heard he has trouble keeping his hands to himself when he’s around women.”
“Oh, dear,” Bridget said as she punched buttons on the cash register.
“I heard there was a bit of a scandal a few years ago when he had an affair with one of his athletes,” I said.
The man nodded. “It ended his marriage. She might not have thought so, but it was probably the best thing for his wife. I doubt that was the first time Nash had cheated on her.”
I wondered if Yvonne’s article had played a role in Nash’s wife finding out about his affair, or if it had come to light another way. If the article was responsible, that strengthened Nash’s motive for murder, in my mind.
The man finished paying for his flowers and left the shop. I followed him out the door a minute later, after thanking Sylvia for her help. Once out on the sidewalk, I pushed thoughts of the triathlon coach aside and checked my phone for messages. I’d received a text from Sienna about half an hour earlier.
Can we meet? it read. I’ve got news!
I tapped out a quick response and picked up my pace, my curiosity driving me toward home.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I arrived home, Sienna was heading up to my house from the beach. She stood on top of a log and waved as I came along the driveway. When I drew closer, she hopped down and met me by the steps to the back porch.
“How did it go at the flower shop?” she asked. I’d mentioned my appointment to her that morning.
“Great,” I replied. “I think the flowers are going to look amazing.”
“I’m sure they will.”
I unlocked the back door and as soon as I opened it, Bentley burst out, his tail wagging.
“You survived the dentist,” I observed as Sienna drop
ped to her knees to shower Bentley with attention.
“Yep. No cavities!”
“That’s always a relief.”
“Tell me about it. I can’t stand having my teeth drilled.” She shuddered.
Flapjack sauntered out onto the porch, and I picked him up to give him a cuddle.
“So what’s your news?” I asked, unable to wait in suspense any longer.
Sienna gave Bentley one last pat on the head and sat down on the porch swing. I joined her there, Flapjack settling on my lap.
“When I got home from the dentist, Sheriff Georgeson was just leaving.”
“Do you know why he was there?” I asked, intrigued.
“To talk to Levi.”
“Really? From what I overheard at The Flip Side, it sounded like he’d already been questioned this morning.”
“Questioned twice in one day?” Sienna said. “He must be a top suspect. He wasn’t even on my radar until Jay told us about him not liking Yvonne.”
“Same.” I stroked Flapjack’s sleek fur. “Any idea what Ray asked Levi?”
“I wasn’t there when it happened, so I only know what I could get out of my mom. All she said was that they were talking about some article Yvonne was writing, one the sheriff found on her laptop. Then Ray was talking to Pippa and she said Levi was with her all Friday night and Saturday morning.”
“So Pippa gave him an alibi. Did Ray believe her?”
Sienna shrugged. “My mom couldn’t tell. She didn’t want anyone to know she could hear what was going on so she kept out of sight. She’s not normally an eavesdropper, but she said she was worried we might have a killer under our roof. I told her if she did some more eavesdropping, we might be able to solve the case. She didn’t think much of that.”
“You didn’t mention your interest in the case, did you?” I knew Patricia wouldn’t approve of her daughter digging around for clues.
“Of course not. She thinks I’m curious about what’s going on around the house, but that’s all. She doesn’t know how nosy I really am.” She said that last part with a mischievous smile.