Pleating for Mercy (33 page)

Josie’s smile was as brilliant as the illegal diamonds on her finger. “
Gracias, Mama
.”

“Lista?”
Mrs. Sandoval asked.

Josie let out an excited sigh. “Ready.” Before I left, she gave me a hug. “I put this dress on and every worry just melted away, Harlow.” She swung her arm out, gesturing to the bridesmaids. “I don’t know how you did it, but it’s like you somehow brought out the best in us.” She squealed, grinning up at the ceiling. “And in a few minutes, I’m going to be Mrs. Nate Kincaid.”

Lucky for me, I didn’t have to choose between sitting with Mama or sitting with Will since they’d somehow managed to sit next to each other, and only five rows from the front of the church. Will stood, letting me pass by so I could take the spot between them. Many of the same people who’d been at Nell’s funeral were here to celebrate Josie and Nate’s wedding. The senator and Mrs. Zinnia James. Ted Mitchell.

The Kincaids were in the second pew on the right side of the church, while the members of the Sandoval family and their friends sat on the left side. Madelyn Brighton stood at the front of the church toward the left side of the altar. I leaned over to Mama, pointed to Madelyn, and whispered. “What’s she doing?”

“Looks like she’s taking a picture.”

She sure was. Her camera was aimed straight at us. She hadn’t mentioned that she was the official photographer of the wedding of the year in Hood County. I caught her eye, lifting my shoulders in a question. She responded with an innocent shrug, notching her chin up and smiling.

Seconds later, the music started with the traditional Canon in D and the processional began with Ruthann gliding down the aisle, followed by a stunning Karen. Madelyn snapped pictures, moving around the church like a ghost, shooting from all angles, like a photographer at a runway show.

Holly was next, looking magical in the dress I’d altered for her. Miriam paused at the end of the aisle before starting down. She gave a cursory smile. I glanced around, confident that I’d been the only one to notice how strained it was.

But Derek’s presence, standing next to his brother at the altar, was too much for me to ignore. The suspicions Miriam had shared with me about her brother put a damper on the event and the pride I felt when I looked at the bridal party’s dresses. The smug smile he directed at Ruthann as she floated to her place, followed by the surprised arch of his eyebrows as he noticed Karen, made the muscles in my jaw twitch. He passed over his niece, glowering as Miriam glided down the aisle and a wave of indignation crashed over me.

Miriam might not feel able to tell the sheriff what she suspected her brother of doing, but
I
could.

Will leaned over and whispered, “You okay?” just as the first notes of the Bridal March played.

As we stood and turned to face Josie, I grabbed my cell phone from my clutch. “Fine,” I whispered back. Josie started down the aisle on her mother’s arm and a collective gasp flowed through the church. She was captivating. Her hair, her figure, the dress—the whole nine yards, literally. It was all perfect.

Madelyn was at the end of the aisle snapping pictures. A warm glow surrounded Josie like a protective aura. I wondered if
that
would show up in Madelyn’s photographs.

Nate, waiting for her at the altar, somehow managed to look boyish in his black tux. The priest greeted the congregation and we sat. The bride and groom had eyes only for each other, but my gaze roved, taking in every detail.

I saw diamonds everywhere. On my mother’s right hand, where she wore the ring Hoss McClaine had given her. On Karen’s wedding band. Diamond studs in Miriam’s ears. Derek’s college ring, a miniature of his father’s, flashed with diamond specks. A sparkler glinted from Ruthann’s right hand. Mrs. Kincaid was weighted down with glistening stones on her left hand, around her neck, and at her earlobes.

Everywhere I turned, I caught streaks of brilliance.

My own naked hand immediately set to work on the material of my dress as my gaze went back to Derek. I felt like a pressure cooker, Miriam’s story bubbling inside me until I thought I was going to explode.

Will cupped his hand on mine. “You sure you’re okay?” he whispered.

I stopped the catlike clawing motion of my fingers. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Really? Because you’re giving Derek a death stare. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

I forced my gaze back to the bride and groom. The priest was midway through his greeting, telling the story of how Josie and Nate had met, and I couldn’t keep it in a second longer. I leaned close to Mama and whispered, “What’s Sheriff McClaine’s cell number?”

Her eyes were tearing, but she managed to gape at me. “You’re going to call the sheriff now?” she whispered back.

I lifted my cell from my lap. “No, I’m going to
text
him.” My index finger was poised over the touch pad. “Mama?”

“What makes you think I have it?”

I had an answer ready. “It’s a small town. Don’t you have
everyone
’s number?”

She looked at me a beat too long, like she was trying to decide if I knew something I shouldn’t, but then she caved. “Tissue, please,” she said as she took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts.

I riffled through my clutch. No tissue. Just the napkins wadded around the velvet jewelry bag. Thinking about the ring got me thinking about Nell. From what I knew of her, she seized opportunities. Miriam had gone to her with a problem, and Nell had added two and two together and seen diamond-studded dollar signs in her head.

Mama held her hand out, waiting for the tissue. I pulled the napkin off the bag and started to hand it to her. The logo on the napkin stopped me cold. Gold lettering on a textured red background.

REATA RESTAURANT.

LEGENDARY. TEXAS. CUISINE.

My conversation with Zinnia James came back to me. She said she’d seen Nell at the restaurant. Nell had a stack of napkins from Reata in her bathroom. I could hear Nell’s voice as she said she’d never been there. I stared at the napkin. Then where had this come from?

The adrenaline rushing through me turned to ice. Nell had lied, but why?

I handed the napkin to Mama, who promptly dabbed her eyes, then showed me the sheriff’s number.

My text to the sheriff went out the next second:
Whistle-blower
, and I held my breath to see if he even had his phone with him.

He shifted in his pew, reached in his jacket pocket, and a few second later, my phone vibrated.
Who is this?

Harlow!
I texted.

And?
he messaged back.

I could sense his annoyance through the satellite waves. And, I wrote, grateful he couldn’t hear my irritation as my fingers flew across the touch pad.
Derek K—illegal diamonds
.

SEND.

My phone buzzed and I read his message.
More
. He was a man of few words.

I didn’t want to send him a thesis, but I didn’t want to be so obtuse he wouldn’t understand my point. Miriam didn’t know Nate was blowing the whistle on Derek. She went to Nell about her smuggling theory, but what if Nell was—

My phone vibrated.

“Shhh,”
Mama hushed me, her finger to her lips.

I responded by angling toward Will, showing him the texts as I read the sheriff’s message.
Miriam K knew . . . told Nell
. Then I added one word:
Blackmail.

McClaine turned to look at me over his shoulder, giving me a quick nod; then he dropped his phone back in his pocket. Over and out.

If Nell suspected that Derek was dealing in illegal diamonds, would she have tried to blackmail him? If she did, and Derek paid, she would have been able to pay back the money she’d borrowed from Karen and Ted to buy the bead shop.

But what if it was more than that? What if
Derek
had gotten Nell pregnant? It still didn’t explain why she’d lied about never having been to Reata, but she had been horribly wrong if she’d gotten it in her head that she and Derek plus baby made a family. From what Will and Mrs. James had both said, the Kincaids wouldn’t have welcomed a pregnant Nell into their home, Derek’s child or not.

I tried to focus on the wedding ceremony, but Nell’s death skulked in and out of my thoughts. I couldn’t stop thinking that Nell had risked it all—and lost.

 

An hour later, the ceremony was over, we’d made our way to the banquet room catty-corner from Bliss’s Opera House on one corner of the square, and I was still unraveling the threads of my tangled thoughts.

The room was an organized sea of round tables covered in white linen tablecloths. Triangular folded napkins, silverware, water goblets, and wineglasses sat at each place setting. Instead of vases filled with cut flowers, fresh Easter lilies in pale green ceramic pots, softened with shimmery white organza ribbon, dressed each table.

The room was festive with white, pale olive green, and lavender helium balloons strategically placed at the entrance, next to the deejay’s speakers, and at either side of the buffet tables. Twinkling white lights edged the exposed beams of the ceiling and dotted the cascading rose trees on the cake table, the buffet table, and around the room.

It was magical—if only it hadn’t been tainted by murder. Josie was effervescent, floating from table to table, Nate by her side. Karen snuggled close to her husband. She’d told me that Nell’s will had been read and she was now partners with Josie. I hadn’t thought she wanted to own the bead shop, but I’d never seen her look happier. Her husband’s adoring gaze probably helped.

Gracie glided up to us wearing a sleeveless dress, a fabric purse slung over one shoulder and cutting a diagonal across her body. “Wasn’t that beautiful?” she gushed.

She reminded me of Liesl in
The Sound of Music
, ready to break into song and dance. Looking at her, I suddenly realized why. “Did you make your dress?”

She beamed, nodding.

It was a straightforward pattern without any design lines, but she’d constructed it well. She’d used an inexpensive polyester blend. A cotton blend would have worked better for the simple shift, but for her first attempt at an entire dress, and from what Will had said, made in the wee hours of the night, she’d done an amazing job. I hugged her. “It’s fantastic, Gracie.”

Her flush deepened. “Thank you,” she whispered, fingering the long, braided strap of her purse.

“You make the purse, too?”

She nodded, pulling the rectangular bag from her hip to show me. “Isn’t it awesome? It’s like a hippie purse from the seventies.”

“Minus the fringe,” Will said.

Reaching out, I brushed my fingers over the thick weave of the torn fabric braid with its frayed and feathery edges. The pattern was distinct. One of the three strands was significantly wider than the others so the design was lopsided. “Did you weave this yourself?”

She shook her head no. “There was a whole bunch of it in one of the boxes I got from Holly’s mom. It’s, like, flawed, right? Kind of uneven, but that’s why I like it. Cool, huh?”

My breath hitched, half of her words fading to black. “The fabric bins? Miriam gave you those, too?”

Will spoke up. “She said she hasn’t used any of it in years. Probably been sitting in a closet in her house. When she dropped them off, I thought she wanted me to take them to the rummage sale, but then she said she wanted Gracie to have fun and just experiment.”

Gracie grinned. “So I made a purse.”

A thread unwound from the mess of details in my mind, and an idea began to form. I searched the room until I spotted Madelyn Brighton, and waved my arms over my head to flag her down.

Will and his daughter stared at me. “Darlin’, what in the world—”

My wide-eyed look froze the words on his tongue. “Those bins weren’t at Miriam’s house. They were at her parents’ house. Where Derek stays when he’s in town,” I added slowly. “And he’s been in town for almost five weeks.”

“Crap,” he muttered, whispering, “You really think so?”

“Think what?” Gracie asked, flicking her gaze back and forth between me and her dad.

Before we could answer, Madelyn sidled up to us. “Trying for a position with air traffic control, love?”

“Moonlighting as a wedding photographer?”

She raised her voice slightly to be heard above the cacophony of voices. “The man they’d contracted with canceled at the last minute and since Bill and Nate were schoolmates . . .”

“Ah. Got it.”

I took my glasses off and tried to wipe away the smudge, but my fingers trembled with nervous energy. I shoved them back on, looking past the streak. Will laid his hand on my back, infusing me with his calm mojo.

“I’ve been wanting to come by your shop and have you work your magic.” Madelyn gestured up and down her body as if her outfit said it all. “As it is, I was forced to wear the same drab skirt and blouse I always do.” She gave a spastic little laugh. “I
will
be by, now that you’ve finished the bridal dresses, eh?”

“Anytime,” I said. I already had ideas on what to make for her. Color to bring out the emerald green of her eyes. Something a little less structured. More flowing to match her magic junkie bent. I took a deep breath and got to the point. “Madelyn, do you still have your camera?”

She patted the purse at her side. “Of course.” She set it down on a nearby table.

“Is that a camera bag?” Gracie peeked at the light green interior.

“It’s an
Epiphanie
,” Madelyn boasted.

“I don’t know what that is,” Gracie said, “but I love it.”

“Only the most stylish camera bag out there. Never would have bought it for myself, but my dear heart does the spectacularly unexpected sometimes.” She stroked the faux leather with affection. “He got it for me the day after the party at the Kincaids’, in fact.”