by Donna Doyle
“Hmmmm.” Barnes nodded, not bothering to call his deputy back as he whipped out a notepad and a pencil and began scribbling. “Typical. Burglars look for weaknesses, you know. If all the doors and windows are locked, then people won’t usually bother anything. But they find one little chink in the armor and they go for it. I’ve seen it a hundred times.”
“The thing is, I don’t really understand. I never open that window, so it should have been locked. I only noticed because I wanted to know how the burglar got in myself.” Gloria’s thin eyebrows pulled together in concern.
Molly turned to Sheriff Barnes, ready to get down to business. “Okay, so we know they came in the window. But why do this?”
“It’s just a thought, Gloria,” the sheriff said, pointing a thick finger at Gloria. “But maybe someone is upset with you.”
“Why would they be upset with me?” The dressmaker put a hand on her chest in surprise. “I haven’t done anything to anybody.” Barnes could see that she was convinced of her own innocence, but then again, everyone is convinced of their own innocence, right? A vendetta against Gloria was definitely a possible motive, and a line of questioning worth pursuing.
Barnes shrugged. “If this were just random graffiti on the outside of your business, then I would say it was just kids out causing trouble. But they took the trouble to come in mess with your store. Nothing was stolen, as far as we know, so it must be more personal than you would like to admit, Gloria.”
“If that’s the case,” Molly said, her finger tapping on her chin, “then why this dress specifically? Wouldn’t it make more sense to ravage the entire store if they were trying to get back at Gloria for something? Sorry to say so, Gloria, but Sheriff Barnes does have a good point. Do you know anyone at all who may want to cause you, or your business, harm?”
“No, that’s okay. It makes sense,” Gloria replied.
“Maybe they weren’t interested in the shop at all,” Barnes said, turning to the weeping bride-to-be and her stunned fiancée. “Maybe they were mad at you, Miss Harris?”
Just then, Deputy Digby returned. He was breathing hard, having run around the building checking every possible nook and cranny for signs of a break in. “I checked the inside and the outside, sir. It seems there’s a window leading to what I guess must be a storeroom of some kind. It looks like it’s open.”
Sheriff Barnes put up a hand to stop him. “Good work, Digby, you have confirmed our suspicions. But, and I know you want to get that detective position, so riddle me this: The perpetrator ruined only this dress and none of the others in the shop. What does that tell you?”
“That someone was upset with Miss Harris?” Digby answered instantly.
Barnes grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. JJ turned again to Michelle.
“Now then, Miss Harris. Tell me who would have the motive to do this? Give me a list of anyone who has a grudge against you.” Barnes stood with his stubby pencil poised over his notepad, prepared for the onslaught of potential suspects that he knew was coming.
Michelle looked up at him, startled. “But I don’t have any enemies that I know of,” she protested.
“Now, hold on a second.” Brian straightened from where he had been leaning over his fiancée. “I don’t think it’s fair to make her feel like that. We’re getting married on Saturday for crying out loud, and she doesn’t even have a dress anymore.”
“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of things, mister,” Barnes assured him. “Justice can be messy work sometimes. As for the dress, I saw plenty of them out there. Just pick out a different one.” He thumbed over his shoulder, hinting at the other wedding gowns in the next room.
“Why does everybody keep saying that?” Michelle was on her feet, her cheeks flushing and her fists curled at her sides. “I swear, nobody realizes just what a disaster this whole thing is turning out to be!” She marched out of the stock room.
“Honey, wait!” Brian started to go after her.
Molly stepped in front of him. “Let me try, dear. I’ve dealt with many brides in my day.” She hurried out into the bridal room, but Michelle had already made her way to the coat rack by the front door. “Michelle, I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be, but—”
“But nothing, Miss Grey! I’m tired of everyone telling me things will be okay or that I should just pick a different dress. I’ve already had to change the venue. What’s next? The florist will call and tell me all the pink roses have wilted? I’m just done!” She grabbed her jacket from the rack and flung it on. A small piece of paper came fluttering out of the pocket to the floor.
“Wait, you—”
But Michelle had already slammed the door, leaving muddy footprints behind her.
“—dropped this.” Molly looked down at the item Michelle had dropped. It was a postcard, but not like the kind that someone would send from their vacation in Hawaii. It was an advertisement for a dress shop called Dressed to Thrill in the next town, Greenacres. Curious, she flipped it over to find a handwritten note on the back.
I know we can do a better job. Just give me a call when you’re ready.
Molly slipped the postcard into her back pocket and returned to the gathering at the back of the store. The tingling in Molly’s left shoulder told her that something just wasn’t right about this whole thing. A mystery was afoot and Molly would get to the bottom of it.
6
Some Grand Mystery
Once Sheriff Barnes and Deputy Digby had left, Dora went back to the office and Molly stayed behind with Gloria to hash out a plan for a new dress. They had several options for her, and they were confident that one of them would work, but it was clear that Michelle was going to need a little time to cool off.
On Thursday morning, once Molly Gertrude had finished her first cup of Earl Grey, she dialed Michelle’s cell phone number. While she listened to the ring tone, she glanced down at her handwritten list of possibilities. She had them memorized by heart, but she had a strong feeling that Michelle was going to have arguments about every one of them. Molly liked to write notes while she was on the phone, and she had her favorite pen poised over the paper. Misty jumped up onto the desk, and Molly carefully removed her to her lap.
But the call went to voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached Michelle!” said a perky voice that was obviously not recorded in the last few days. “Just leave me a message and I’ll call you back when I can. Bye!”
“Michelle, this is Molly Grey. I know yesterday was rough on you, dear, but I have a few things I’d like to talk to you about. Give me a call as soon as you have the chance.” Molly hung up and moved on to her other work, figuring that Michelle was just sleeping in.
When her phone rang fifteen minutes later, Molly Gertrude jumped to answer it. “Michelle?” She said, expecting to hear the voice of her missing bride-to-be on the other end of the line. But it was not Michelle at all. “Hi, my name is Elizabeth Spears. I’m getting married next year, and I was trying to plan it all myself, but I’m getting kind of overwhelmed. I heard you were the person to talk to about that.”
Molly smiled, always pleased to have a new bride to work with. It was a blessing indeed that folks in Calmhaven were never going to stop getting married. “I’d love to help. Let me get your information, and then we can arrange for you to come in for a consultation. That way, I’ll know what you’ve already taken care of.”
“Not much, to be honest with you. My biggest concern is a venue. I haven’t been able to find a place that I truly like, but someone told me you could get my wedding booked at the Old Rose Bed and Breakfast.”
Shaking her head and smiling, Molly said, “That’s a pretty new thing, to be honest. I can’t guarantee it, because I haven’t talked to the owner about doing future weddings there, but it’s certainly something we can keep in mind. In the meantime, when are you free to come in?”
When they had the final details worked out and had hung up, Molly tried Michelle’s number again. She didn’t listen to
the entire voicemail message, instead hanging up and dialing the number of Michelle’s work place. With no luck there, she plopped her elbows down on the desk and sighed.
“What’s the matter, Miss Molly?” Dora asked, looking up from the invoices she was sending out. She was wearing a bright pink blouse that day that was nearly blinding but seemed to suit her.
“I can’t get a hold of Michelle,” Molly explained. “I’m worried about her. Brides are stressed, and that’s usually a given, but it’s too close to the wedding to fool around with not answering the phone or trying to chase her down.”
“I’ll try her from my cell. Maybe she’s just feeling embarrassed after her meltdown yesterday. Not that she has any reason to, but she might not realize just how much we understand that sort of thing.” Dora pulled up the number and dialed, but she shook her head after a minute. “No answer.”
“I just hope we don’t have a runaway bride,” Molly mused. “Or maybe Michelle has other plans.” She recalled the postcard Michelle had dropped, which was safely tucked inside the file folder Molly had for the couple. She hadn’t mentioned it to Dora yet, as it seemed prudent not to bring it up unless it truly mattered.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know just yet. I’m still thinking. In the meantime, I have an idea. Michelle isn’t answering her phone, but Renee might know where she is. The two of them have been best friends for years.”
“Do you have Renee’s phone number?” Dora pulled up a spreadsheet program on the computer to check for information.
“I don’t. I already looked. But she mentioned that she lived in an apartment on Bridge Street. There’s only one set of apartments over there, and I know Renee drives that little red Honda. She shouldn’t be too hard to find.” Molly carefully put Misty on the floor and headed for her jacket on the hook by the door, since it was still pouring buckets outside.
Dora was scrambling to catch up. “But how will you know which apartment she’s in? We can’t just go knocking on every door.”
Molly smiled and shook her finger in the air. “Nor will we have to! Most apartments have marked parking bays. We just find her car, check the number, and then we’ve got her.” Molly’s simple observation made Dora feel that they were hot on the trail of some grand mystery.
Dora took the wheel, as usual, and they made their way across town. “Oh, I should tell you that we’ll have to speak to Stephanie Graham about booking more weddings at her place.”
“Is that so?” Dora questioned, keeping her eyes keenly on the road.
“Yes, I had a new bride call me today, as a matter of fact. She said she was calling us because she was overwhelmed by the planning process, but I have a feeling she truly wanted the connection to get into the Old Rose. I’ll let you call Stephanie about it, since this was your baby to begin with.”
Dora looked delighted. “I really didn’t think you meant it when you said it would become a trend, and I definitely didn’t think it would happen so quickly.”
“I think it’ll be a whole new thing. That is, if Stephanie approves.” She could easily see what the big sun room at the back of the B&B would look like once it was all decorated. Many of the people in Calmhaven liked to get married in their own churches, but there were still plenty who were looking for other options, and a place for the wedding meal after the church service. It would only be a benefit to Stephanie, as well, since it would likely mean an increase in overnight stays for her.
“Is this the place?”
Dora’s question brought Molly out of her reverie about future business plans. “What? Oh, yes. This is it. And there’s Renee’s car right there. Pull in right next to it so we won’t be so obvious as we check the numbers.”
It only took a second to note that the Honda’s parking slot was labeled with a big yellow B, so the ladies headed to the second door on the apartment complex. Molly’s heart thumped as Dora knocked. She truly hoped that the bride’s friend was home. It would be harder to track her down at work, since she commuted to a larger town every morning. The most ideal situation would be to find Michelle right there on Renee’s couch.
It took long enough for the door to open that Molly had just about given up. Renee was dressed in an old t-shirt with rips and various colors of paint blotched across the front. Her capri-cut yoga pants were similarly adorned, and she had tamed her unruly red hair under a handkerchief. She blinked, startled to see Molly and Dora on her threshold. “Oh, hi. What’s going on?”
“Is Michelle here?” Molly asked hopefully. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her all day about her dress, and I’m starting to get concerned.”
“About her dress?” Renee repeated. “Is there something wrong?”
Molly and Dora looked at each other and then back at Renee. “You mean you don’t know?” Dora asked.
“It sounds like you’d better come in,” Renee replied slowly. She held the door wider to admit them. “Don’t mind my mess. I’ve been working like crazy lately, so I haven’t had time to clean. I took a vacation day today just to finish painting. That’s why I’m dressed like this.” She gave an embarrassed gesture toward her clothing.
“That’s all right, dear. We don’t mind that.” Molly always thought it was interesting when people apologized about their messes. It was usually never as bad as they imagined it to be, and Renee’s apartment was no different. The apartment was a typical one, with stain-resistant berber carpet, a small but nice kitchen, and a set of sliding glass doors that led to a back patio. The living room was outfitted in modern, uncomfortable-looking furniture that seemed to fit Renee’s personality. As far as the mess went, it amounted to a few magazines spread across the coffee table, a coffee mug on the kitchen counter, and a canvas drop cloth spread under one wall of the dining room. Half of the wall was a pale cream color, and the other half was a brilliant teal.
“Please, have a seat.” Renee gestured vaguely at the couch. “I might still have wet paint on me, so you’ll forgive me if I stand. Now what is all of this about Michelle’s dress?”
“You really don’t know?” Dora asked. “She didn’t tell you?”
Renee was starting to get irritated, and she put her fists on her hips. “I really don’t. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“Sorry,” Molly cut in. “It’s just that we would have imagined Michelle would have called you. It seems that someone broke into Gloria’s Gowns the night before last and completely destroyed Michelle’s dress.”
Now Renee sunk slowly to a nearby chair, her mouth wide. “You’re kidding me.”
Molly shook her head firmly. “I’m not. There’s no salvaging it, but Gloria and I have been working out a few ideas. Michelle was pretty distraught, of course, and she didn’t seem like she was in the mood to hear any of it on Wednesday. I thought it would be best to give her a little time to cool down and then call her today, but she’s not answering her phone.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Renee held her hand in the air, palm out, to stop Molly. “Tell me what’s this with the dress? Who did it? Did someone call the police?”
“All of that has been taken care of. At the moment, we don’t know who did it, although I can promise we’d like to find out. The most important thing right now is to get Michelle into a new dress.”
Renee shot back to her feet. She snatched her phone up off the kitchen counter and began scrolling through it. “I can’t believe she didn’t call me!”
“Brian was there for her, and she was extremely upset. I’m sure everything is fine.” Molly said the words, but she wasn’t completely convinced of them herself. Michelle had stormed out of the dress shop, but had anybody heard from her since then?
Renee wasn’t listening. Instead, she pressed a few buttons and held the phone to her ear. “Michelle!” she practically shouted a moment later. “Are you okay?”
Molly looked at Dora and shrugged. At least this was one way to get a hold of her.
“Tell me what happened. Okay.
Okay. Do you need anything? You’re sure? Okay. Bye.” Renee hung up and sat in the chair again, looking exhausted. “She has a little shed behind her house that she turned into a painting studio last summer. She’s been out there all morning, and she didn’t take her phone with her.”
“I didn’t know that she painted,” Molly said with a smile, hoping to get things to return to an easier tone.
“Oh, yeah. She was helping me with some of the trim work in here, but her talents are completely wasted with a roller and a brush. She did that painting right there.” Renee pointed to a large canvas that hung over the entertainment center. It was a landscape with distant mountains, trees with autumn leaves, and a creek.
“It’s lovely,” Dora said, getting to her feet and crossing the room to get a better look at it. “I knew she did a lot of design work on her computer, but I had no idea she had this much raw talent.”
Molly had to agree. “We have much more local talent than we realize. Did she sound like she was all right on the phone?”
“She’s been painting since dawn, so yeah, I think she’ll be okay. Why don’t you give me the other options for a dress, and I can go talk to her this afternoon. By then, her hand will probably be tired and she’ll be ready to listen.” Renee looked eagerly at the two women.
This was far more helpful than the maid of honor had been hitherto. It made Molly wonder about a few things, but she held her tongue. “The first option is that we can have a new dress flown in from New York. It will cost quite a bit extra to have it overnighted, and then of course there’s the cost of the dress itself. Gloria is pretty sure her insurance will end up paying for it, but that’s going to take some time. I’m also not sure the dress would get here in time at this point.”
“Okay. What else?”
“There’s another dress at the shop that’s very pretty and of a similar style, but from Michelle’s reaction over her original dress I think it’s going to be hard to convince her that anything would be a worthy replacement,” Dora jumped in, finally tearing her eyes away from the painting. “It’s not by the same designer, and it would need a few alterations, but Gloria can get it done if Michelle will agree. She already has all of Michelle’s measurements, so she just needs the okay to do it.”