The Bride Wore Crimson
Page 10
“Oh, that,” I said. “I wouldn’t have told him either if he hadn’t cornered me. He was pretty ticked off that you let the cat out of the bag.”
“Yeah, he let me know. My ears are still singed.” Seth grinned, and my insides began to heat with desire.
“Troy should have told her,” I said, stepping toward Seth.
“How is Meg doing now?” He stepped closer to me.
We were almost touching. “I haven’t discussed the ring, the curse, or anything related to the robbery with her. But on an up-note, she did find a dress.”
“The one I just saw her in?” He leaned nearer my lips.
“Your reaction was the tipping point.” My heartbeat thundered, and my eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation of his kiss. I could feel his breath feathering my face. A sigh escaped me.
“Daryl Anne!” Meg shouted, breaking into our intimate moment as if she were an overwrought child. “That was Zelda.”
Regret flowed through me as I stepped back from Seth. He seemed as disappointed as I was about the interruption. Despite my best effort not to, I sounded disgruntled. “I know, Meg. I was in there when she called, remember?”
Meg didn’t seem to notice my irritation. “Come on. We have to get to her shop.”
“What?” I reared back, eluding her attempt to grab my hand. “Why?”
“Because the police are there.”
“Damn,” Seth said. “Was Zelda robbed, too?”
Meg was breathing hard. “I don’t know what’s going on. She was blubbering so hard, it took forever to get a few words out of her. I swear it sounded like she said she’d found a bunch of jewelry in her shop. Rings and things.”
“But why would the police be there?” I asked, confused. Or probably still too annoyed to think straight.
Seth was quicker on the uptake. “You mean the jewelry stolen from the Ring Bearer?”
“Maybe,” Meg said, looking uncertain while reaching for my hand again. “But that can’t be right. Can it?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As we stepped outside into the waning afternoon, I wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline pumping through me that enhanced my senses or if it was the fresh air filling my lungs, but I felt alive again, as if the bridal shop were a stale-smelling jail from which I’d been freed. Or perhaps it was the sense that I was finally on the hunt again, the investigation progressing after being at a dead stall.
Whichever it was had my heart thudding and my feet moving at a clip. Shoppers were starting to drive away, parking spots emptying all along the street. The sun was still high in the sky on this July day, and the air held no sign of chill. I spied flashing lights a block off and the curious shuffling in that direction.
Meg and I picked up our pace, merging with the crowd gathering on the sidewalk around Zelda’s wedding planning shop. I even saw Hannah there. Seth’s long-legged stride had given him an unfair advantage, and he was a couple of car lengths ahead of us. He’d received a text just as we were leaving, and I suspected it was from Troy or Sheriff Gooden. We’d learn soon enough.
“Look,” Meg said, pointing to something in the distance. “It’s the Gossip Girls, right in front looking like kids about to watch a parade. How could they have beaten us here?”
“I don’t know.” The town grapevine isn’t high-speed Wi-Fi for crying out loud. At least not yet.
“I’ll bet one of them has a police scanner,” Meg said, excusing herself as she tugged me past a strolling couple.
“Really?” My gaze flicked across the three snoop sisters. They were huddled, heads together like an elderly athletic team talking plays before hitting the field. “Which one, do you think?”
“Not Wanda,” Meg said. “She bakes to the beat of Italian operas.”
“True.” No telling what her cannoli would taste like if she were listening in on police calls. I said, “Not Jeanette. Peace marcher, tree hugger, but not crime watcher.”
Our gazes shifted to the senior with the flyaway gray hair, the grandmotherly body, the ants-in-her-pants, nervy one.
“Velda,” Meg said.
I nodded. “She’s always digging for the latest scoop.”
“She’s an instigator, too.” Meg brushed her hair from her eyes, keeping her voice low as she elbowed people aside, clearing a path to the front door. “Excuse us, please. Coming through.”
Folks who knew that Meg was Zelda’s stepdaughter moved aside. Others, probably out-of-towners and gawkers, were less cordial or cooperative. We arrived on Zelda’s doorstep ragged from worry and the July heat, only to be stopped in our tracks. By Troy.
He shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. You can’t go in there.”
“Zelda called me,” Meg said, trying to get around her fiancé. “She wants me here. She is here, isn’t she? Nothing’s happened to her? Oh God, has something happened to her?”
Troy gently caught her upper arms. “She’s fine, sweetheart. Just fine. But Sheriff Gooden is taking her statement at the moment, and no one’s allowed in until he says so.”
“Well, you let Seth go in,” Meg said.
“He’s working. Promise me, Meg, that you and Daryl Anne will stay right on this spot until I take care of dispersing the crowd.”
Staying put was not on my agenda, especially with anticipation still coursing hot through my veins, and from the look on Meg’s face, it wasn’t on her agenda either. But I’d already almost been arrested two days ago at the jewelry store and that was filling me with a beach ball–sized hesitation.
“Break it up, folks,” Troy told the crowd. “There’s nothing to see. Nothing going on. No crime committed. No one hurt.”
“Then why are you and the sheriff here?” Velda asked, standing her ground, her arms crossed over her sagging boobs. “It doesn’t look like nothing to me, Troy O’Malley.”
“Yeah, Troy, we saw Seth Quinlan and his camera go inside,” Jeanette said, twisting her love beads. “Why was he allowed inside if nothing is going on? Huh?”
“Give us the scoop, Troy, and I’ll give you a five percent discount on your wedding cake,” Wanda wheedled.
Oh my God, Velda was rubbing off on Wanda worse than I’d thought.
Troy shook his head. “You ladies need to go on about your business. There’s nothing going on here that concerns any of you.”
“Okay, okay,” Wanda said, waving her hand in the air. “Ten percent.”
Troy jerked as a booming voice roared, “Zelda!”
The crowd went silent, shifting as a whole toward the sound of heavy footfalls coming up the sidewalk. Big Finn, looming ever closer like a redheaded Paul Bunyan, charged toward us. Onlookers cleared a path as wide as a crop circle, and Finn plowed through the opening, heading straight for the open shop door. “Zelda! Zelda?”
Troy beat him to the door, holding his hand up like a stop sign. “I’m sorry, Finn, you can’t go in.”
“Like hell I can’t.” His neck turning redder than his hair, Finn peered down at his soon-to-be son-in-law like a hawk about to gobble a starling.
But Troy—the boy who’d run off to the navy five years earlier, who might have been intimidated by his girlfriend’s giant father—had been replaced by a tough, confident officer of the law. He wasn’t backing down. He seemed to understand that if he allowed his future father-in-law to walk all over him in front of half the town, they would never manage a relationship built on mutual respect. “Finn, I’m sorry, this is a crime scene and off-limits while we investigate.”
“Zelda!” Finn glared at the hand that Troy had clamped onto his lower arm.
“Your wife is fine. The sheriff is interviewing her.”
“Remove your hand before I remove it for you.”
“As long as you step back and stay outside.”
I feared this would end badly. Two proud men, neither able to back down without losing face, locked in an unbreakable standoff. Meg seemed to size up the situation. She darted to her father’s side. “Dad, please, Troy’s only d
oing his job.”
Big Finn’s face softened as she wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her into a hug. He’d been overly protective since Meg returned home—attention she’d lapped up like a cat long deprived of cream. But although he was holding his daughter, Finn’s gaze never left the shop entrance. A tethered bull came to mind. There would be no holding him back once Zelda appeared.
“Zelda called me,” he said to his daughter and to me. “She was crying so hard. I thought she was hurt.”
“Troy swears she’s fine,” I said, having no reason to think Troy would lie.
While Finn and Meg talked quietly, I assessed what I knew about this. From the disjointed conversation Meg had had with Zelda, it seemed she was hysterical. Sobbing, blurting out something about the police and jewelry. I frowned. I knew Zelda could be flighty at times, but she wasn’t the type for a complete meltdown. Her job required nerves of steel and an alligator hide. Every day she had to placate demanding brides and juggle critical mothers and budget-minded fathers. She had to regularly disarm jealous entourages intent on negating every choice a bride made. All that while also handling several weddings at once.
Not much shook this woman. No wonder Meg and Big Finn were rattled. But it wasn’t like she’d found a dead body sprawled across boxes of invitations. No. She’d found some jewelry in the bathroom. So why would that throw the wedding planner into such a tizzy? Of course, the first conclusion I leaped to was that she’d found the jewelry stolen from the Ring Bearer. But since the police hadn’t released any details about the stolen items, how would Zelda know that that was what she’d found?
I stared at the Gossip Girls, trying to work the problem through, and I kept coming back to the same answer. There was only one way she could know. Meg’s ruby ring had to be among the items she’d found. Was it? God, I hoped so. For the sake of Meg’s sanity.
But seriously, even that wouldn’t have thrown Zelda into a crying jag. That was the puzzle. I studied the front of the shop, visualizing the interior. She didn’t have a security system in place. No cameras with footage the police could view for potential suspects. No need for such things. My gaze shifted over the crowd that had grown, not diminished. Was the thief here now? Watching? Reveling in the excitement he or she had created? I spotted my cousin again, and a shiver swept through me.
“Was she robbed, do you think?” Velda said, standing at my elbow.
I blinked, staring down at her and then at her faithful companions. Talk about a mischievous entourage. They had devilment in their eyes. When had they managed to get this close? That’d teach me for getting lost in thought.
“I doubt it. She doesn’t carry much inventory. Nothing thief-worthy.”
“Yeah,” Jeanette said. “Not like your bridal shop. Billie says you’ve got thousands of dollars tied up in all those wedding gowns and veils and tiaras and things.”
Hundreds of thousands. I kept the thought to myself. How did I know who might overhear and take that as an invitation to rip off Blessing’s Bridal? The thought made me ill. And I was back to square one. Why had Zelda become hysterical over some found jewelry?
“I heard someone knocked Zelda out, and she was found on the bathroom floor,” Velda said. Beads of sweat dotted her upper lip, drawing my eye to the mustache I’d never noticed until this moment. Meg really needed to open a beauty salon and offer facial waxing.
“If she’d been knocked out, there would be an ambulance.” Right? Meg hadn’t said anything about Zelda being knocked out. “Troy says she’s fine. Just fine.”
“I heard she caught someone trying to rob her till.” Wanda’s brows were knit, her expression irate. I figured anyone trying to rip her off risked being conked with a rolling pin, a heavy-duty marble one. But that was only a guess.
“I heard she tied him up,” Jeanette said, fingering a peace sign pendant that hung on a brass chain. The touch of glee in her voice was not only surprising, but also disturbing. Apparently her sense of goodwill had limited reach.
“I also heard she locked someone in the bathroom,” Velda declared, her breath smelling like rotten fish. She was daring me to contradict her silly statement.
How could I resist that challenge? “If she’d done that, Troy would have the perp cooling his or her heels in the squad car by now.”
The Gossip Girls’ heads shifted in unison toward the police sedan hugging the curb. The vehicle was empty.
“Huh.” Velda sniffed, scowling at me. “You should be a stand-up comedian, Daryl Anne Blessing.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and turned my attention back toward Zelda’s shop. My mind reverted to puzzling over the jewelry situation and why Zelda was so unhinged. Had she realized she’d been alone with a thief who might very well have been armed and dangerous? Or did Zelda perhaps know who’d used her bathroom and that was why she was upset?
The waiting to find out was causing my nerves to twitch. If the thief were known, an arrest would be imminent, and my investigation would be ended before it had really begun. But the community and shop owners would breathe easier. Even me. And yet, disappointment curled through me. I mean, of course I’d be happy for Meg if Granny O’Malley’s ring had been recovered. No more curse to worry her.
And on a selfish note, that would simplify my main task as maid of honor.
Seth appeared in the doorway, squinting against the sunlight like a miner emerging from a pit. He spotted me and started in my direction, and I forgot why I was here. It was that loose-jointed walk, the camera bumping his hip with every step, that male swagger that came natural to him. His mouth was lifting slightly at the corners, a silent message to me. My blood seemed to warm, and my mouth watered.
Sheriff Gooden emerged, caught Troy’s eye, and barked, “I thought I told you to disperse this crowd.”
“I’ve been trying, sir.” Troy spread his arms in frustration. “They just won’t leave.”
Sheriff Gooden was around the age my dad would be if he hadn’t died too young from a bad heart. He was well thought of in this county, but I’d encountered his take-charge attitude in the past, and I recognized that assertiveness in his bearing now. He glanced toward the milling townsfolk, especially the Gossip Girls.
“There is nothing to see here. I suggest you all be on your way. Go on now. Get going.” He waved his hands as if shooing away birds. Wanda, Jeanette, and Velda didn’t budge. He narrowed his eyes. “Do I have to haul you ladies in for loitering?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Wanda said. “I’m a respected business owner in this community.”
“Try me,” Sheriff Gooden said, not brooking any argument.
“Well, I never,” Velda said as the three women stomped off.
Big Finn and Meg hurried inside to check on Zelda, closing the door and shutting out everyone else, including me. A moment later, the crowd had thinned to Seth, me, and Troy. Both men knew what was going on. I did not. Curiosity twisted my insides.
I knew they’d probably just shut down my questions, but I had to ask, “Is it true? Did Zelda find the missing jewelry in her shop?”
Before Troy could tell me it was none of my business, Meg came running out. She rushed to Troy’s side. “Zelda says my ring was with the jewelry she found.”
Troy pressed his lips together and nodded, looking as if he’d hoped that Zelda wouldn’t reveal that detail to Meg.
“Where is it? I want it back. Now.”
Troy shook his head. “Sweetheart, you have to understand—”
“Understand what?”
“I can’t give you the ring now…,” Troy said, his voice trailing off.
Meg sighed. “Okay. Sure. It needs to be logged in, but first thing tomorrow, right?”
“Ah, yeah.” Troy lifted his hat and scratched his head. “Not then either.”
“Why not?” Meg was tapping her foot, barely restraining her temper if the white around her lips was any indication. I got a modicum of pleasure in the silent stare she was giving him. It was as goo
d as any he’d given me.
“Well,” Troy blustered, “first we have to find the person who stole it.”
“First? What?” Meg blinked hard and fast, imitating the victim of a dozen camera flashes. “But what if you never find him?”
Troy swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “It’s evidence in an open case.”
“Oh my God. That damned curse.” Meg threw her hands up and wailed, “That’s it. I’m done. I love you, Troy O’Malley. I guess I always have, and I always will. But I won’t risk making your life a misery. The engagement is off. I can’t marry you. I won’t.”
With that, she ran off toward Cold Feet Café as if a pack of dogs were chasing her.
Sheriff Gooden clamped Troy on the shoulder. “Looks like you escaped by the skin of your teeth, son. That one’s a little off kilter. Imagine what your life would be like if you had married her.” He gave a little shudder, then ambled off toward his squad car. “Yep, lucky to be rid of her.”
I watched him depart, wishing my anger felt like spear gun barbs drilling into his back. Narrow-minded jerk. He’d just given me another reason to vote for his opponent in the next election, no matter who ran against him.
“Don’t listen to Gooden,” Seth told Troy. “Meg’s just upset. It’s been an upsetting day for her family. She said she loves you. She’ll come around.”
Troy’s blue eyes were as empty as a drained glass, his body limp. I wasn’t sure he was hearing Seth.
I gripped his lower arm, catching his glance. “Troy, listen to Seth. Meg’s overly emotional right now. Irrational. She’s still grieving, trying to come to terms with all the sudden changes that have occurred in a very short span of time. We all need to be patient with her.”
We also had to figure out what that damned curse was and remove it from the ring. Easy-peasy, right? Anyone know an Irish Traveler with “the sight” who specializes in the exorcism of bad juju? If so, call me at 1-800-desperate maid of honor.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I needed a drink, a lift to my spirits that only somewhere fun and lively could provide. Seth felt the same. We opted for the Last Fling, a tavern several blocks out of town just beyond the residential areas. Once a lumberman’s lodge, the log building backed against a stand of Douglas fir, new growth that had replaced the original trees used as material to build this place. I hadn’t been here since Meg’s mom was abducted from the parking lot, strangled, and dumped from a cliff not far from here. Walking up to the door sent shivers through me.