Bodice of Evidence

by Nancy J. Parra

  That was okay with me. I was certain the helmet cams would catch the shot. From the look on Alex’s face, it didn’t matter if they did or didn’t. The whole thing had me grinning.

  “That was quite a success,” Toby said as he stood beside the stepladder. “I certainly got a better understanding of the emotion behind what it is that you do.”

  “Good,” I said, and folded up the ladder to take back to Old Blue. “Why don’t you go on in to the tent, get a drink, and see if you can find out a little more about the courtship. Marriage may be a contract as you described, but it is not cold or bloodless. The courtship aspect builds trust and affection. It allows people to see if they have things in common.”

  “Perhaps, but, as I mentioned, in many countries people have arranged marriages. These are often statistically more successful than marriages based on emotion.”

  “Toby.” I blew out a breath. “Unless you want a mail-order bride who doesn’t speak English very well, you need to truly understand how courtship and love work into marriage. Now go.” I shooed him off. “Enjoy yourself. Meet people. Get their take on the issue.”

  “Are you leaving?” he asked, his expression confused.

  “No, I’ll be over there in a bit. First I need to pack up and such.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets, and wandered after the crowd.

  I put the ladder in the trunk of my car, gathered up all the posters, and stacked them in the back as well. Finally, I emptied the cooler of the ice and packed it away.

  The jump school had taken care of the parachute gear and the bull’s-eye tarp. I stopped, stretched, and lifted my face to the sun. Another successful event. I pulled out my phone and called Gage.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he answered.

  “Hi,” I said as a warm feeling washed over me.

  “How did your event go?”

  “Great,” I said, and leaned against the car. “Dominica was crying, Alex was crying. In fact I don’t think there was a dry eye in the field.”

  “Isn’t the saying ‘there wasn’t a dry eye in the house’?”

  “Yes, well, this was entirely outside, so . . .” I let the words trail off.

  “I get it. I was teasing,” he said. “I’m glad it went so well. Want to go out tonight and celebrate? I know this nice little Greek restaurant that you might like. I know you love hummus.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I pay attention,” he said.

  “Bobby never took me to anyplace that might resemble a restaurant that wasn’t a franchise.”

  “I know,” Gage said softly. “Let’s not talk about him. Okay?”

  “Sure, I’m sorry.” I bit my bottom lip. “I would love to go out and celebrate with you tonight. I have more great news, other than how well the Big Leap went, but it can wait until I see you.”

  “Well, then I’m looking forward to your news and seeing you in something sexy.”

  I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. “Is that a hint that I should dress up a bit?”

  “It’s a date, Pepper.”

  “Then I’m looking forward to seeing you in something sexy as well.”

  “It’s a deal. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  Chapter 20

  The doorbell rang. I opened it to find Gage leaning against the doorjamb wearing a black velvet suit coat, a light blue pinstriped shirt, and a pair of black dress pants. His hair was perfectly groomed with a side part, which caused his bangs to flirtatiously cover his forehead.

  “Wow,” we said at the same time.

  I smiled and did a flirty turn so that my black fit-and-flare dress’s skirt swished around my knees. The neckline was U-shaped, giving a hint of cleavage and showing off the red glass beaded necklace I wore. A pair of pointed-toe black pumps with kitten heels finished off the simple ensemble.

  “Very nice,” Gage said, and pulled his arms out from behind his back. In one hand he had a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and in the other a nice bottle of Cabernet.

  “Oh, for me?” I sounded as surprised as I felt.

  “Yes, for you, silly,” he said, and stepped inside, wrapped both arms around me and gave me a kiss, which I felt clear to my toes. “That’s for you, too. Anytime you need or want it.”

  My brain fell out of my head and I stood there smiling.

  “Are you going to take them?” he asked and waved the flowers under my nose.

  “Right, sure.” I took the flowers. “Let me put these in water.” He followed me into the kitchen and tucked the wine inside my refrigerator as I grabbed a glass cup from the cupboard, filled it halfway with water, and put the flowers inside. “Tada!” I said, and waved my hands like a magician’s assistant. “Done and done.”

  He backed me up against the counter, put both hands on the countertop beside me, and leaned in. “You are something, Pepper Pomeroy.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you.” I planted a hot kiss on him. “So are you, Gage.”

  He shivered after my kiss and I found it entirely too endearing. “Come on.” He took my hand. “Let’s get out of here and celebrate, because if we don’t go soon, we’re never going to leave.”

  “Oh, no, and then my sexy dress would go to waste.” I batted my eyelashes.

  “Trust me, even if I took it off you right now, it didn’t go to waste.” He tugged me through the doorway. “I think I will have that cute little twirl seared into my memory forever.”

  “In a good way, I hope,” I said as I locked my apartment door.

  “Are you fishing for compliments?”

  “What?” I froze. “No, no, I wasn’t.”

  He winked and kissed my forehead. “Then let me set you straight right now. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Pepper.”

  “Thank you.” I bit my lower lip to keep myself from denying his words.

  He smiled and I knew he caught me trying not to counter him. “Come on, dinner awaits.”

  * * *

  The restaurant was small, as promised. All the tables were filled with couples and groups. Everyone was well dressed and gorgeous in the flickering candlelight. Even though the tables were full, the conversations were low and intimate. Not a single child or French fry in sight.

  “Marcos,” Gage said and hugged the maître’ d. “How are you? You look great, my friend. Let me introduce you to my date. This is Pepper Pomeroy. Pepper this is Marcos Steponoplios.”

  “How do you do?” I asked, and went to shake his hand. Instead of shaking my hand he kissed it and I felt the heat of a blush rush up to the roots of my hair.

  “Gage has told me all about you.” He winked. “It appears every word is true. Come, let me seat you someplace nice.”

  Marcos was young and handsome with thick black hair that curled at the nape. His eyes were dark brown and dancing with an inner joy. He had wide shoulders and a narrow frame and could have passed for a movie star. So, of course, I followed him. Gage put his hand on the small of my back and reminded me who I was with—not that I forgot or anything.

  “Here is the best seat in the house.” Marcos put us in the corner farthest from the kitchen. The table was small and cozy, with windows on both walls so that you could see the lights of the sidewalk. It was dark and the city street held a quiet mystery. There were curtains as well if you wished to close the table off from the rest of the world. “My lady,” Marcos said, and held out my chair. I sat and he tucked me in properly, and then placed a black napkin on my lap. “George is your waiter tonight. If he gives you any problems, let me know.”

  Marcos handed us red cloth-covered menus, winked at Gage, and left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” I said, and leaned forward. “How do you know him, again?”

  Gage smiled. “I bring all my dates here.”

  �
�Oh,” I said, and sat back a little disappointed. Gage took my hand in his.

  “Just kidding.” He stroked his thumb along my knuckles and I felt a shiver of desire. “We went to school together.”

  “Okay, better,” I said. Then I paused and leaned forward, concerned. “I know you’ve had several girlfriends. All I’ve ever had was Bobby. I’m not good at casual. Wait!” I held up the hand he had been holding. “I can’t say I’m not good at casual, not really. All I can say is that I’m not used to it. There are things I might not get.”

  “Such as my joking about all my girlfriends,” Gage said, then leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “I’ve only had four, Pepper, and none of them lasted longer than three months.”

  “Wait, I thought you were serious about Angela Davis.”

  “That was our junior year in high school and I liked her because she reminded me of you.” He sat back and picked up his menu. “She didn’t like the fact that she reminded me of you and dumped me.”

  “Huh,” I said, as our waiter showed up carrying a tray with two glasses of ice-cold water, two wineglasses, and a bottle of red wine.

  “Good evening, I’m George and I’ll be your server tonight. I’ve brought you water and Marcos has sent you this Cabernet.” He silently went to work, placing the glasses on the table, then he showed the wine label to Gage, popped open the cork, and showed that to him as well, then finally poured a tiny bit in both wineglasses. I followed Gage’s actions and swirled the wine, sniffed it, then tasted it. It smelled of oak and berries and left a soft buttery taste on the tongue.

  “Very good,” Gage said.

  George nodded and poured more wine in our glasses. Then he left.

  “I keep forgetting you know about wine,” I said.

  “I know about a lot of things, which you will learn along the way,” Gage said, and winked. “Now what sounds good to you?”

  For the first time I noticed there was no pricing on my menu. That left me feeling odd. I wanted to be polite and ask for neither the cheapest nor the most expensive items. I put down the menu. “Surprise me.”

  “Ha!” Gage teased, his gaze sparkling in the lamp light. “You don’t like the fact that there are no prices on your menu.”

  I blushed again and tried to hide it by sipping my wine. “Maybe, or maybe I’m testing you. Maybe I want to see how much you know about me and about the menu here.”

  Gage shook his head and waved George over. Then he ordered for us both, starting with the promised hummus and pita bread.

  “To celebrating your latest Perfect Proposal.” He lifted his wineglass.

  “To Alex and Dominica, long may their marriage last and bring them both joy.” We touched glasses and took a drink. “I have more news,” I said.

  Gage reached over and took my hand in his. “Okay, tell me.”

  “I’ve found a new place to rent.”

  “That’s great!” He squeezed my hand and I felt truly connected to someone for the first time in years. “Where?”

  “It’s in Park Ridge. Remember I told you I might be rooming with an older woman? Well, you won’t believe this, but Detective Murphy’s mom is the owner of the house and she is moving to Florida for good. She’s willing to rent her home to me. Fully furnished if I need it, but she’s willing to let me redecorate to my heart’s content.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Gage said.

  “And the best part is that there is no bar within a half mile of the house.”

  Gage lifted his glass. “Here’s to being Bobby free.”

  “Amen,” I said, and we touched glasses again and I sipped. “Also it seems that Detective Murphy has a suspect arrested in the bridal shop murder.”

  “Who?”

  “Remember I told you about Vidalia’s assistant, Theresa, and her odd boyfriend? Well, apparently this guy Thad stole the pieces from the shop while Vidalia was out getting coffee. Detective Murphy thinks that Eva caught him and pulled the knife, hoping to intimidate Thad into giving back the stolen goods.”

  “That’s a little crazy, don’t you think? I mean, why didn’t she just call the cops? We all have cell phones. She could have videotaped him stealing them and then called the police.”

  I frowned. “That does make more sense than grabbing a knife and trying to threaten him.” I rested my chin in my hand. “Why would you grab a knife?”

  “What did Detective Murphy say?”

  “He said he thinks they fought and Thad accidentally killed Eva in the struggle, and then ran away.”

  “I suppose that could happen.” Gage shrugged. “Seems a little out there.”

  I couldn’t agree more. George brought our first course and our conversation turned to Gage and the work he was doing at the warehouse. The best part about his being in the prop business was that he knew about all the movies being shot in town, and all the new plays and musicals. He had the best behind-the-scenes stories.

  “Not to talk business on this lovely date,” I said when the conversation lulled. “But Sunday is Mary’s proposal. We have the theatre booked. Do you have the props picked out?”

  “Yes,” Gage said. “I’ve got those great 1920s prop palms to put near the stage. Plus, everyone entering the theatre will put on costumes like you requested.”

  “Now their friends and family will know to come early so they can get ready. I’ve got a few actors set to pretend to come in when Mary and Joe do, so it appears as if strangers are going through the same thing, but the theatre will actually be closed to the public.”

  “So most of the theatre will be full already,” Gage deduced.

  “Yes, there will be champagne flutes at the entrance to the theatre and the lights will be low with someone set to take everyone to their seats.”

  “So he doesn’t notice his family and friends,” Gage said.

  “Exactly. They will all be instructed to face forward in the hope that he will not notice anyone but Mary and perhaps the actors who will be seated around him.”

  “What else do you need from me, prop wise?” Gage asked.

  “You’ve got that lovely 1920s microphone and stand, and then the chair I picked out the other day. The moment Mary and Joe are seated, the spotlight will go to the front stage and the emcee will come in to introduce the film and do a short interview with a Humphrey Bogart impersonator.”

  “Casablanca is the perfect film, romantic for the women and yet war torn for the guys.” Gage waggled his right eyebrow. “Nice.”

  “Thanks.” I blushed. “When the movie hits intermission, the lights will come back up on the stage and the emcee will come out. He will make an announcement saying that a prize awaits the people in Mary and Joe’s seats. A spotlight will go on Mary and Joe and they will be instructed to come up on stage where Mary will propose.”

  “Brilliant,” Gage said. “I’ll have everything packed up and over there two hours before the event.”

  “Thanks.”

  He took a sip of his wine, and then looked me in the eye. “Now, about your new place. When are you moving?”

  “I gave my landlord thirty days’ notice, but I can move anytime.”

  “Good,” he said. “That’s great. I’ve got a truck and some guys who can help move your stuff.”

  “That would be awesome,” I agreed. “How does the end of the month look to you?”

  “It looks great,” he said and lifted his wineglass. “Here’s to fresh starts.”

  “To fresh starts,” I agreed, touched his glass, and took a sip. Things were moving fast, but in a very good direction.

  Chapter 21

  I met Toby at the coffee shop near Bridal Dreams the next afternoon. “So what did you think of the engagement?” I asked as I handed him a large pumpkin spice latte.

  “I can see what you mean about how they looked at each othe
r,” he said, and blew out a breath. He sat back in his chair and threw his arm over the back of the chair next to him. “I can’t help but think they are the exception to the rule. It’s just a bad business decision to base a contract as important as marriage on chemical reactions of the body.”

  I sat down and clutched my coffee. “Wow, that’s what you think of love? It’s just chemical reactions?”

  “Research shows that we are attracted by pheromones created to appeal to the opposite sex with the optimum DNA.”

  I smiled. “What about youth and beauty?” I asked, playing devil’s advocate. “You know. Signs of good health, fertility?”

  “Yes, there must be attraction,” he said. “For example, you are an attractive woman.”

  Why did that make me blush? Plus, I knew that my blotchy redhead blush was not particularly attractive.

  “But,” he continued, “if I were to ask you to marry me right now, you would say . . .”

  “What?” I shook my head, shocked by the thought. “No.”

  “Why not? Your children wouldn’t want for money or care. They could go to the finest schools. Not have to rack up college bills. You wouldn’t have to work another day in your life.”

  “I love my job,” I bristled. “And I don’t know you.”

  “You are intelligent. I’m sure you did an online search of me when you were doing your research on Laura.”

  “You don’t have a very big online footprint,” I pointed out. “Which means you are either very private or uninterested in staying in touch with your friends.” I paused. “Or you don’t have any friends. I couldn’t tell.”

  “You did a credit report, right?”

  “It’s part of what I do before I take on a client, yes,” I said.

  “So you know that I’m wealthy and stable and don’t have an arrest record.”

  “But there are so many other factors to marriage. Ideally you want the marriage to last forever.”