by Herron, Rita
A tense second passed as he braced himself. “You.”
“Me?”
“Your name was the first one I thought of. Besides, it’s not like you two will ever meet. I told her you had an accident and were recovering, so that’s the reason I was planning the wedding.”
“I see.” Elsa’s voice held a note of wariness this time. “You’re pretty bad off if the best you can do for a fiancée is your married partner with three kids.”
“I was desperate,” Levi stammered.
“Obviously so.” Elsa sighed. “So what does that tell you about your life, Levi? That maybe you need to get one?”
“It tells me I need to get back to my detective job. And the only way I can do that is to catch Izzy Sassafras and Ray LaPone and put them behind bars.”
Aunt Dottie greeted Izzy as soon as she stepped back into the shop, her eyes gleaming. “Do we really have our first client?”
Daisy stood at the coffee counter while Caroline stopped arranging a display of sample invitations on a white lace–covered table. One of them had brought the kitten to the shop, and it was so still it looked like a stuffed animal on the pillow in the corner chair.
Wicked little thing. It had kept Izzy awake half the night wanting to play.
“Izzy, don’t keep us in suspense,” Aunt Dottie said.
“Yes, we have a client,” Izzy said, her pulse racing. “His name is Levi Fox, and he and his fiancée want a Christmas wedding.”
Aunt Dottie fluttered a hand over her cheek. “Oh, that’s wonderful. That’s when Harry and I got married, too.”
“Did you get a retainer?” Caroline asked.
Izzy winced, feeling chided. “No, not yet. But he’s coming back tomorrow for a tasting.” She turned to Daisy. “Can you compile some menus for him to look at, and maybe make some samples?”
Daisy rubbed her hands over her apron, hesitant. “I was planning to leave tomorrow.”
“Oh, Daisy.” Aunt Dottie‘s tone held a silent plea. “Everyone is town is excited about the coffee/dessert bar.”
“Then one of them can run it,” Daisy said, slightly annoyed.
Aunt Dottie propped her crutch against the wall. “But you’re such a wonderful cook. Just think—if you move back to Matrimony, you could have your own catering business.”
Daisy used a cloth to wipe the counter. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.” At her aunt’s crestfallen face, Daisy added, “But I’ll make the samples before I leave.”
“Thank you, Daisy,” Izzy said. “I appreciate your help.”
Daisy’s gaze met hers, and Izzy wondered if her sister had accepted the olive branch she’d just extended. It was killing her to know that Daisy and Caroline still despised her.
Aunt Dottie adjusted her hat. “So tell us about this couple, Izzy. What are they like? Where are they from?”
Levi’s face flashed in Izzy’s mind, her heart stuttering. “He’s totally in love with his fiancée.”
“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Aunt Dottie said. “That is, unless you like him.”
Izzy’s cheeks flooded with heat. She shouldn’t have confided to her aunt that her marriage had fallen apart. She might let it slip to her sisters. “No, of course not. We just met.”
“And you are a married woman,” Caroline pointed out.
Izzy bit her lip at the censure in Caroline’s tone. Technically she was. “Yes, I am. And this client is important. If this wedding is a success, we can use it for advertising to entice more customers.”
Caroline fiddled with one of the silver bells on the table. “Christmas is only a few days away. You can’t possibly pull off a wedding in that short amount of time.”
Izzy shrugged. Caroline had no faith in her.
“It will be difficult but . . . maybe we could do it together. Before you and Daisy leave. For Aunt Dottie, of course.”
Aunt Dottie clapped her hands. “That’s a fantastic idea.”
Caroline narrowed her eyes at Izzy, as if to say she knew she’d been railroaded. Saying no to their aunt was impossible.
All the more reason Izzy had to make this work. “Levi said the wedding party might stay at the B and B. We need to make sure the rooms are in order.”
“Caroline, can you coordinate things with Myrtle at the B and B?” Aunt Dottie asked. “The sewing circle and quilting bee are already working on the bedding and furniture.”
“All right,” Caroline said reluctantly. “But I have to get home before Christmas, so I won’t be here for the ceremony.”
A hole opened in Izzy’s chest. She hated for her sisters to leave without them patching things up.
Daisy cleared her throat. “Photograph the house and rooms so I can add the photos to the website. I’ll also send out a press release to the local paper announcing One Stop Weddings and featuring Matrimony as a romantic mountain getaway.”
“You’re not sending it to Nosy Nellie,” Izzy said.
Daisy frowned. “Of course not, although maybe we should. Everyone reads her column. And Uner Pinkerton can spread news faster than Twitter.”
Izzy laughed, and Daisy continued, “I’ll also send a release to Atlanta and Chattanooga. You might draw customers from there.”
Izzy nodded. She did want to grow the business, although she didn’t want her name in the paper where Ray might see it.
Then again, he lived halfway across the country. No way would their small-town wedding business reach Texas.
Ray tried that damn PI for the dozenth time. Where the hell was he? And why hadn’t he found Izzy by now?
A pounding on his door started, and he ducked behind the window and peeked out. Dammit. His left eye twitched. And a sharp cramp seized his stomach. Stupid nerves always gave him the runs.
Everything was out of control now.
Some cop had shown up at the country club asking questions, and one of the widow women, that tight-ass Beatrice Puckett, had grown suspicious about what he was doing. Now three others had called and one was at the door, looking like she was going to bash his head in with her silver-studded cane.
He had to find Izzy and get that money back. It was his ticket out of Texas and the trouble he was in.
CHAPTER SIX
Izzy knew she was eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it. She heard her aunt whispering to Uncle Harry on the phone, and curiosity got the better of her.
“I know Izzy’s in trouble,” Aunt Dottie said. “But Daisy and Caroline have their own problems.” Her aunt sighed at something her husband said. “I’m just tired of being the keeper of the family secrets. I’ve got to get these girls to make up and trust one another.”
Izzy held her breath as she heard her aunt pacing, the crutch clacking. But when she peeked through the door crack, her aunt wasn’t leaning on the thing. She was swinging it back and forth as she paced as if clearing a path in front of her. “This business had better work,” Aunt Dottie said. “I don’t know if I can live through another embarrassment.”
Shame burned Izzy’s face. Her aunt would not be humiliated by her again. She wouldn’t let it happen.
“Yes, maybe Caroline will eventually tell them, but it’s not my place.”
Tell them what?
Footsteps clattered from the hallway, and she heard Daisy humming “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” as she started work in the kitchen.
Izzy jumped back from the door and hurried out the back. But as she drove to the B and B to meet Caroline, questions nagged at her.
What secrets was Aunt Dottie keeping? And what did her aunt want Caroline to tell them?
Caroline met her at the door to the B and B, and Izzy itched to ask her. But the closed expression on her sister’s face warned her that she was here for a business meeting, not to share personal stories.
How could she blame Caroline for hating her, though?
Izzy followed Caroline through the B and B, impressed with the
metamorphosis from outdated decor to rooms boasting southern charm and style.
“Aunt Dottie wanted me to show you what the group has done so far with the inn,” Caroline said stiffly.
“You think it’ll be ready for Elsa and Levi’s wedding?”
“It’s come a long way,” Caroline said. “The women in town have been working like crazy. They’ve really pulled together on this.”
Like Izzy wished she and her sisters could do.
“I used the more masculine patterns and colors in rooms catering to the men in the wedding party or male guests,” Caroline said as she gave her the tour. “When we—I mean you and Aunt Dottie—aren’t hosting a wedding, Myrtle can rent to visitors who want a retreat in the mountains. Or people who want to visit for a consultation.”
The scent of fresh paint mingled with the potpourri Caroline had set out in crystal dishes throughout the inn. “Good idea,” Izzy agreed.
Caroline led her into another room. “I put a Dresden plate quilt in this room and a log-cabin quilt in the room next door. The quilting bee donated the Northern Star, Double Hearts, and Shoo Fly.”
Caroline traced a finger over one of the Dresden squares. “They asked if they could hang a few for sale in the shop or here at the inn.”
Izzy considered the idea. “Sure. They would make a nice addition to the gift corner.”
She followed Caroline up the winding staircase to the third floor. “I chose this room as the honeymoon suite,” Caroline said. “It has a private balcony that overlooks the pond out back.”
Izzy admired the antique lace canopy on the four-poster bed and the wedding-ring quilt in ivory and pale blues on the bed. An antique armoire, dressing table complete with a lace skirt, and adjoining bathroom with the claw-foot tub looked elegant, but gave the feel of stepping back in time. Lace curtains, an antique washstand, and plush towels completed the look. “It is a beautiful view. And the quilt is stunning.”
“It actually belonged to one of the women who owns the fabric store.”
Izzy nodded. Too bad she was advertising fairy-tale weddings, promising a lifetime when that kind of magic didn’t exist.
Still . . . Levi and Elsa seemed happy and might prove her wrong.
A seed of jealousy struck her, but she pushed it aside. She would never trust another man, much less marry one. And she’d cried enough tears over the last year to last a lifetime.
All the more reason she needed to make this business work.
Becoming financially stable would give her the freedom and independence she needed to divorce Ray.
Levi hiked down to the creek behind the rental cabin, picked up a stone, and skipped it across the water. Beyond the creek, the mountains rose in jagged peaks. A few lone houses scattered on the edges of the cliffs and ridges, offering the owners a magnificent view of the valley below.
He missed his ranch. Missed the flat land of Texas and his horses and his job.
Was he crazy to miss chasing hardened criminals?
Although he had to admit these rolling hills and mountains were gorgeous. Peaceful and tranquil.
Except investigating Izzy Sassafras and pretending to be a loving fiancé felt . . . wrong.
Since when did you grow a conscience?
If she’d helped Ray LaPone scam money from innocent women, she had to pay.
Frustrated, he strode back up to the cabin, went in, and booted up his computer.
He accessed the information Elsa had sent and studied it.
Ray LaPone was born in Corpus Christi to a single mother who’d been married five times. Each divorce had ended in a settlement that had earned her a profit and a bigger house. So Ray had grown up feeling what—entitled?
Did LaPone’s childhood have something to do with the fact that he was preying on grieving widows?
He skimmed farther and noted that LaPone had no priors, except for a juvie record that was sealed.
His bank account surprisingly held only a couple thousand dollars, a low balance for a man who had allegedly been robbing the country-club set. But he’d most likely set up some offshore accounts they hadn’t yet discovered.
As far as work, employment records were sketchy. LaPone proclaimed to be a salesman for a company called Chem-tech. He clicked on the website and skimmed the summary. The company worked with oil refineries and supposedly was on the edge of new technology that was more environmentally friendly.
Was the company bogus?
He texted Elsa to investigate LaPone’s business, hoping they’d find something concrete to nail the bastard.
Tomorrow when he met with Izzy again, he’d probe for more information on her life in Texas.
If she admitted she was married to LaPone, it would open the door for more questions.
And if she lied, it could mean that she’d wasn’t the sweet, innocent woman she appeared to be, but a conniving thief who’d stabbed her cohort-in-crime in the back.
With the preparations for the inn underway, Izzy picked up some of Lulabelle’s homemade chicken potpie at the diner and ate at the shop so she could finish the sketches she’d promised Levi.
Uner Pinkerton and Nosy Nellie strolled by to peek in the window, and she gave them a friendly wave, determined not to feed the gossip vine. But the kitten hissed at them through the window as if he realized they’d come from an enemy camp.
By the time Izzy got back to her aunt’s house, Daisy was buried in cooking utensils and cake batter. Aunt Dottie was curled by the fire, crocheting placements for the dining table at the inn. The kitty jumped down to run to her aunt, then plopped on the floor at her feet and fell asleep again.
She didn’t see Caroline, but as she climbed the steps, her sister’s voice echoed from inside her bedroom. She was on the phone again, just as she had been the night before. “I love you, too, honey. I can’t wait to get back.”
Izzy’s heart squeezed. At least Caroline was happy and had found love.
To Izzy, it seemed like just yesterday that they’d been teenagers talking boyfriends, pedicures, and prom dresses.
Except the last few days there hadn’t been any giggling or sharing secrets.
She didn’t even know her sisters’ husbands’ names.
More memories of childhood crashed back as she glanced at the bulletin board full of pictures in her room. She and Daisy and Caroline wading in the creek. Riding their first horses at the stables in the mountains. Eating boiled peanuts and picking strawberries. Diving into the icy river from the bridge at the swimming hole where the kids hung out in the summer.
Exhausted and weary, she changed into her pj’s and crawled into bed. But more memories carried her back to when she was a little girl, and she had her sisters had first come to live with their aunt.
She closed her eyes, but an image of her mother being hauled toward the police car flashed before her.
“I found your daddy in bed with my hairdresser! The sleazy two-timing son of a bitch!”
Izzy could see the column Nosy Nellie had written as if it was yesterday.
Naughty in Matrimony
By Nellie Needlemyer
MARY KAY SASSAFRAS ARRESTED FOR MURDER!
Late today, witnesses reported seeing Mary Kay Sassafras attack local hairstylist Connie McElroy in the Fluff and Dye. Mary Kay shoved Connie’s head under the hot water in the washing station, then poured red dye all over her blonde hair. She held her down until she fried Connie’s blonde curls, then chopped her hair into pieces.
Apparently that morning she’d had a complete out-of-body at the sight of Connie’s fake eyelashes on her husband’s pillow, but he’d already left for the chicken plant, so she went to confront Connie first. Some said she was so cunning that she sat quietly while Connie gave her a perm and styled her hair before she went berserk.
Patrons of the diner across the street then saw Mary Kay fly out of town in her Corvair, peeling rubber and screaming that she was going to make Waylin suffe
r.
When she arrived home, she grabbed the cast-iron skillet and chased Waylin down to the pea patch, where she slammed him over the head with the frying pan.
When Sheriff Harper showed up to arrest her, she claimed she hadn’t meant to kill him—that most of the blood on the chickenshit’s clothes was chicken blood, not blood from his head injury.
But he was still dead. The peas hadn’t fared too well either.
Mary Kay’s sister, Dottie, a pillar of the community and the head of the garden club—and no stranger to trouble where her volatile sister was concerned—had no comment on the incident, although she kindly offered to take in Mary Kay’s hellion daughters.
The Prayer Circle is holding a candlelight vigil tonight at seven p.m. to pray for Dottie.
Izzy wrestled with the covers, trying to banish the memory.
She’d only been five at the time, and hadn’t understood how her mama had lost control like that.
Not until a few days ago, when she’d discovered Ray sneaking money from her panty drawer to buy teddies for the other women in his life.
An image of blue-haired Mona Medensky in a thong made her shudder. There should be a cutoff age for women to wear thongs.
If her daddy had been a cheater and liar like Ray, how could she blame her mother?
Caroline’s laugh echoed through the wall, and tears blurred Izzy’s eyes. When she was alone and scared and crying those first few weeks after they’d moved in with Aunt Dottie, Caroline had been the one to comfort her. To pat her back and sing to her. To assure her everything would be all right.
Caroline had promised that nothing bad would ever happen to her again.
Izzy wiped at her tears.
But then she’d hurt Caroline . . .
How would she ever earn her forgiveness and make things right?
“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Levi stared into Izzy’s sparkling eyes, his heart pounding. She had put some kind of spell on him the moment he’d met her.
How could he resist falling in love with her?
He cradled her delicate hand in his and smiled. “I do.”