by Donna Doyle
“The last option is for Michelle to go back to the shop, pick out a new dress of her choice, and Gloria will alter it. I know she really had her heart set on the one that was destroyed, and I do understand how important a dress is to a bride, but we’ll have to make some sort of decision to make this wedding happen.” Molly spread her hands on her lap, hoping that Renee understood.
She nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thank you. We’ll let you get back to your decorating.” Molly and Dora let themselves out and hurried through the rain to get back to Dora’s car.
“Well, at least we’ve got that taken care of,” Dora said as she started the engine.
“Yes and no,” Molly hedged.
“What do you mean?” Dora pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the office.
“Did you notice that the color Renee was painting her dining room was the same color as the paint on the dress?” That bright teal was hard to miss.
“Oh, that’s true. What do you think that means?”
“I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure about any of them yet.”
The phone was ringing when they got back to the office, and Dora rushed to answer it. “Oh, hi Renee. You reached her already?” She turned to scribble something on the notepad on her desk. “Great. I’ll tell Molly, and we’ll contact Gloria. Thank you so much!”
“I take it she talked to Michelle about the dress?”
“She decided to go over there right away and talk to her in person. I’m surprised, since Renee hasn’t seemed very enthused about the wedding. Michelle was still insistent that the wedding should be cancelled. In light of Michelle’s distress, Renee says to go with the second option and that she will continue to work on Michelle while the alterations are made. She mentioned that she would give Gloria a call.”
Molly breathed a sigh of relief. Everything for this wedding had been lined up for months up until this week, and they were once again falling back into place.
Or at least, most things. There was still the matter of that postcard Michelle had dropped at Gloria’s. Molly still hadn’t brought it up, but it was burning a hole in her file folder. While Dora was engaged on the phone with a bride who wanted to change the date of her cake tasting, Molly slipped it out and dialed the number on the front.
“Dressed to Thrill, this is Victoria.”
“Yes, Victoria. I’m the wedding coordinator for Michelle Harris, and I was just calling to see if she’s done the final fitting on her gown.”
There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the phone. “I’m afraid you must have the wrong number. I’m not working on a dress for anyone by that name.”
Molly plastered a smile on her face, knowing it would make her sound friendly. “Oh, but you must be. She gave me your number. We’re getting very close to the wedding, so I’m trying to tie up all the loose ends.”
“No, I’m sorry. You must be mistaken.”
“No brides by the name of Michelle Harris?” Molly pressed.
“Um, no.”
“All right then. I’ll check with her. Thank you anyway!” Molly rang off. She put her elbow on the desk and her chin in her hand.
As if on cue, Misty jumped up onto the desk and rubbed her cheek against her owner’s.
“There’s something going on here, Misty. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
7
Missing Pieces
That evening, Molly sat in the basement of the church with The Hemming Hens. She had been a founding member of this sewing circle, and it served as a lovely distraction. She and the other ladies brought whatever project they were working on as well as a snack to share, and they spent the evening talking about everything under the sun. Their meeting place was a large room with wooden paneling that the church used for holiday dinners and other gatherings. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as the large sanctuary upstairs, but it certainly served its purpose.
“Have you heard about that new grocery store they’re building on the edge of town?” Rose Highwater asked over her needlepoint. “I sure hope it doesn’t put Tilly out of business.”
Tilly’s Store was the place everyone in Calmhaven went for their essentials. Alongside the milk, bread, and eggs, could be found all sorts of strange and wonderful things that Tilly herself curated. She liked to bring something new to their tiny town.
“I don’t think it will,” replied Maude Jessup as she pieced together two tiny triangles for her latest quilt. “Everyone goes to Tilly, and I’m sure they still will when they want to make a small trip. Can’t beat Tilly’s tales either!” Tilly was well known in the town more for her slices of gossip than for her slices of ham or cheese.
Sandra Florington, who kept her hair carefully dyed so that she didn’t quite look her age, gave a boastful look over her glasses. “My grandson has already been interviewed for a job at that new store, and he said they’ll have a curbside pickup service.”
“How does that work?” asked Joyce Treehorn, who had been knitting a rather long sock. “My knees have been killing me lately, and it’s getting harder and harder to make a trip through the store.”
“Haven’t you gotten those fixed yet?” Rose shook her finger at Joyce. “You know, there’s an excellent orthopedic surgeon over in Oak Bridge. He had my brother up and on his feet again in no time.”
Molly worked absentmindedly on her stitching as she listened to the conversation all around her, not really paying attention. Her brain had locked onto the dress disaster and it refused to let go. She enjoyed her time cross stitching; it created beautiful pictures that she liked to give away as Christmas presents and it kept her mind off her busy office, but today she could only stare at the strands of embroidery floss.
Why would Michelle have a postcard from a different dressmaker? If she had just gotten engaged and was in the beginning stages of planning a wedding, then it would make plenty of sense. She might not have decided on a dress just yet and wanted to keep her options open. But the wedding was only a few days away. There was barely enough time to quickly alter a similar dress, much less pick out a completely new one from a different shop in a different town. Had someone from the rival shop broken in and destroyed the dress just so they could get Michelle as a customer? It seemed extreme, but she knew how competitive the wedding business could be.
“Excuse me, ladies. I just need to step out and make a phone call.” Molly left the meeting room and worked her way up the stairs toward the front lobby of the church where an old payphone still graced the old lobby wall, next to the church office. Molly popped a couple of coins in and dialed.
“Miss Molly!” Dora exclaimed as she answered the phone. “Is everything okay? You don’t usually call me in the evenings.”
“I know, dear, and I’m sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you were very busy and if you might be able to do me a favor.”
“Of course.”
“This is going to sound a little strange, so just bear with me. I’d like you to stop by Tilly’s and get a big bouquet of flowers. It doesn’t matter what kind, just something bright and pretty. Take it over to Michelle’s place and tell her that it’s our way of saying how very sorry we are about the inconvenience with the dress. If she doesn’t answer, you might want to check the shed in the back that Renee said she paints in.”
“Okay,” Dora said. “I can do that. And you’re wanting me to do this tonight?”
“Yes. It can’t wait until tomorrow. Keep track of your time and how much you spend at Tilly’s, and I’ll be sure to compensate you for all of it. But here’s the most important part: I need you to come up with some way to see Michelle’s phone. I need to know if she called a certain number recently.”
“Hang on, let me get some paper.” The sound of rustling came over the phone. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Molly recited the number on the back of the postcard from Dressed to Thrill. She had only dialed it once, but it had made her curious enough that
she had memorized it easily. “I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but I need to know if and when she called that number. You think you can manage that?” Molly had considered doing it herself when the idea had first come to her, but she struggled when it came to the constantly-changing technology of cell phones.
“I think so. Can I ask why I’m doing this?”
“I’ll explain everything when I can, and I might be completely wrong. Just let me know what you find out. Actually, come to my place for some tea, and we’ll talk.”
Molly attempted to return to the Hemming Hens for a few minutes, since she knew it would take a little time for Dora to get the flowers and get to Michelle’s. But she still couldn’t seem to concentrate, and the pattern was nothing but a blur of colors. “Ladies, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“You can’t go yet, Miss Molly,” Maude protested. “I haven’t even opened the tin of toffee I made yet.”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass regardless.” Molly carefully laid her fabric back in her sewing box and wound her thread around the little plastic winders. “I love your toffee, but it sticks in my teeth for about two weeks.”
The walk home was more pleasant than any of the other times she’d been on the streets over the last few weeks, since it had stopped raining for the moment. The streets were still flooded with puddles, but at least she didn’t have to fight with an unruly umbrella.
She waited impatiently at home, hoping there would be some sort of news from Dora. She scanned her shelves, looking at the volumes and trying to remember if there were any she’d read that had similarities to the one they were now facing. After all, there was always the possibility that one of the famous authors had based a book or two on real life.
A slow rumble of thunder brought another onslaught of rain just as Dora knocked on the front door. “Come in out of the wet, dear. I’m sorry I had to make you go out and about on such a terrible night.”
“I think I’m getting used to this weather,” Dora explained with a smile. “I must be turning into a duck.”
“Have a seat. I’ve got the kettle warmed and my favorite teacups ready. Do you prefer chamomile or peppermint?”
“Chamomile this time, please.”
Molly was dying to know what her assistant had discovered, but she often felt that big discussions were much easier when everyone was comfortable. There was no point in starting and stopping while Dora took off her boots or while Molly ran back to the kitchen because she forgot the jar of honey. Even Misty had come to understand this ritual, and she stood patiently on the sofa cushion and watched her mistress, waiting for the cue to curl up in Molly’s warm lap. “Now, then. Tell me everything that happened, and don’t leave out a single detail.”
Dora nodded and dutifully began. “I ran down to Tilly’s and got there just before she closed. Fortunately, she still had a wonderful selection of flowers, and I picked up an arrangement of daisies and pink carnations. Tilly wrapped it in some bright pink paper, and it was so beautiful! You know, people don’t really think of daisies and carnations for wedding flowers anymore, just because they’re so inexpensive. But it was a great combination, and maybe we should recommend it to some of our future brides.”
Molly smiled gently and rolled her hand through the air, trying to get Dora back on track. “I know I said every detail, but I meant every pertinent detail.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, Miss Molly. Anyway, I went to Michelle’s. She didn’t answer the door, and I had to go around back to the shed. I was a little bit nervous about it, because I didn’t want to be disturbing her, but there wasn’t much of a choice. It’s a cute little building, painted light blue with white trim, and it even has a little porch. Oh, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“That’s all right,” Molly told her as she sipped chamomile from her favorite mug. There was always the possibility that Dora might give a clue she didn’t recognize herself. “Go on.”
“So, Michelle was in her painting shed, and Renee really wasn’t kidding when she said she was talented! It was just a little space, but Michelle had it absolutely full of canvases. Some were painting of fruit and flowers, others were landscapes, and she had also done a few portraits. She’d even done a portrait of herself.”
“What was Michelle wearing?” Molly interrupted.
“Wearing? Oh, a nice button-down shirt and capris.”
“All right. Continue.”
“I gave her the flowers, and she thanked me profusely. She said she wanted to let you know just how sorry she was about the way she acted at Gloria’s yesterday, and that she should have been more mature about the situation. Of course, I told her it was completely fine and understandable. Michelle also said she was very grateful to you for understanding her attachment to her special dress.”
“So far, so good.” Molly stirred a little extra honey in her tea, wishing she could have gone for herself. “And the phone?”
“The flowers and all were the easy part. I thought about that the whole way there, and I did finally come up with a plan. I told Michelle I was supposed to call my sister to see if she needed me to pick up anything at the pharmacy for her, but that I’d left my phone at home. She let me use hers, and I got a chance to look through the calls. She had dialed the number you gave me.”
“Can you tell me when?” Molly leaned forward, intrigued. Part of her had been hoping Dora wouldn’t find the number on Michelle’s phone at all.
“Yes. Wednesday morning at about ten o’clock.”
“Hmmm.” There were a lot of clues to put into place, but none of them were very big ones. There were still some missing pieces, and it was too early to draw any definitive conclusions.
“Miss Molly?”
Dora brought Molly’s attention back to the current moment. “Hmmm?”
“What does all of this mean? Whose number was that in Michelle’s phone?”
Molly sighed and opened a tin of citrus curd cookies, holding it toward Dora to offer her one. “I don’t know just yet. I’m only working on hunches. But thank you for doing this for me tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you. I’m sure if I had tried to look at her phone for myself, I would have completely messed it up.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Molly.”
“Don’t start thinking too boastfully about me just yet,” she replied with a wink.
8
Waste Not Want Not
The next morning, a young man appeared on the doorstep of the Cozy Bridal Agency with a large box. Speckles of rain darkened the cardboard as he handed it to Dora. “What’s this?” she asked as she shut the door and began examining the label. “I didn’t think we were expecting any deliveries today.”
“I told Gloria to send the ruined dress over here,” Molly explained as she opened the box. The dress was just as it had been back at the shop; little more than a pile of scrap fabric.
“What for?” Dora eyed the garment dubiously as Molly whisked it out of the bag and laid it out on a large oak table.
“I like to think there’s something we can use it for. Maybe we can cut out the parts that are still intact and find a way to include them in the centerpieces or the floral arrangements. Or, if Michelle doesn’t want to have anything to do with the dress, then we might be able to use them for something else.” Molly was a thrifty woman. She had grown up cutting apart her sister’s old dresses and finding ways to make them into new ones for herself, and she didn’t like the idea of throwing away such an expensive gown without getting at least a little bit out of it. “I think strips of this tulle could make nice ribbons around the candles on the tables.”
“Interesting. I hadn’t thought about that.” Dora began picking through the remnants herself. “Do you know if Michelle went down to Gloria’s to see the new gown for herself? She didn’t say anything about it while I was there last night, but I did try to keep my visit fairly brief.”
“I don’t know, but it shouldn’t matter either way. Gloria is
an absolute pro, and she had all of Michelle’s measurements from the first dress. She’ll make it work. By the time Michelle walks down that aisle tomorrow morning, she’ll never know that she doesn’t have the original one on.”
“I hope you’re right. We’ve already had to deal with the rain and a sabotaged dress. I don’t think we need anything else to stand in our way of getting this ceremony done and dusted without a hitch.” Dora raised a slim eyebrow as she sifted through the silky bits of fabric. “I don’t think we’ve had so many problems this close to the date before.”
“I’m afraid you’re right, but I don’t want to hear you say one word in that regard around anyone else. People tend to get very superstitious about weddings, and we don’t want to give anyone a reason to think things are worse than they are.”
“That’s strange…” Dora murmured.
“No, it’s not really all that strange. Anything that involves a lot of ritual tends to get people’s primitive brains going. They think everything will fall down around their ears if they don’t have the flowers just right or if a guest sits in the wrong spot.”
“No, not that. I mean, yes, that’s strange, too. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” Dora pointed at the bottom of the dress, where a satin skirt lay underneath the mountains of tulle ruffles. “There’s mud on the bottom of the gown.”
“Really? Let me see.” Molly came around the table to see what her assistant was talking about. “Looks like whoever destroyed the dress took it outside for a little while? I should contact Sheriff Barnes and ask him if he’s talked to the businesses surrounding Gloria’s. It could have happened in the middle of the night and maybe none of the other shops were open, but it’s worth checking into.”