A Custom Fit Crime (18 page)

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. “I’m so sorry, Hattie. It’s all my fault. I talked Raylene into letting me look around Beaulieu’s room—”

“What? Oh Lord, I don’t give two shakes about that. I’m talking about your mama’s weddin’. We already bought all the food. Raylene’s been workin’ her behind off preppin’ everythin’. I’ve got the flowers for the tables bein’ delivered in the morning. We might could cancel the flower order,” she said, the pitch of her voice getting higher, “but we can’t return all this food, and we can’t afford to lose that money.”

A different vise tightened around my insides. Hattie wasn’t upset I’d snooped around in Beaulieu’s room. No, she’d got wind that Mama was canceling her wedding.

Madelyn, looking like a hunting dog catching a scent, waved at me before wandering off toward the center courthouse. I smiled tightly and waved. “Don’t worry, Hattie.”

Her voice grew shrill. “I can’t help but worry. We’re goin’ to take a big ol’ bath on everthin’ we bought, and, Harlow, we can’t afford that!”

I leaned back against the brick wall, cupped my hand over my eyes, and shook my head. “I’m working on it.”

“She just called, Harlow. Said plain as day, ‘The weddin’s off.’”

Mama was as mule-headed as they came, and for some reason, she was digging in her heels on this, but I knew how much Hoss loved her, and how much she loved Hoss. I remembered that one of Loretta Mae’s core beliefs was that love will always win out. That might be the case, but I knew that I had to help love along right now. I could hear Mama’s fiery voice in my head making her proclamation, but I wasn’t going to have any of it. They were a good pair, the two of them, and they’d be getting hitched in two days if I had to drag them both to the altar myself.

“No, it’s not,” I said. “Keep Raylene cooking and take those flowers in. There
will
be a bride and groom walking the aisle Saturday, and we
will
be descending upon Seven Gables directly afterward. You have my word.”

The way I saw it, I really had two problems. One was figuring out the truth behind what happened to Beaulieu, and the other was convincing my mother that true love didn’t come around all that often and she should not be a damn fool and let it go.

I was pretty sure that solving the murder would be a whole lot easier than talking sense to Mama. I’d never be able to do it alone, which meant I needed backup. Reinforcements. Madelyn was off taking pictures of who knew what? I sent her a quick text telling her I was heading home, and ten minutes later I was back at Buttons & Bows.

Once on the porch, I instantly felt Meemaw’s presence, but something was off. Instead of the typical cocoon of warm air, a burst of coolness encircled me, chilling me to the bone. Maybe her equilibrium was thrown off by the death of Beaulieu in what I still often thought of as her house. Or maybe she was upset by the state of Mama’s wedding. Either way, I figured we could commiserate. “Meemaw?”

The leaves and flower petals in the garden rustled in response, the movement of the air increasing, but she didn’t suddenly decide to materialize and she gave no sign she was actually here. Our communication skills were sketchy, at best. She’d written me messages in the steamed mirror in my bathroom, and she was particularly fond of using words and passages in books, flipping back and forth between the pages to get her meaning across. But could she hear my thoughts? I’d tried to send her silent messages, but so far, that hadn’t worked. Still, my experiments on telepathy weren’t definitive and I hadn’t given up the idea.

But right now I wanted to be more direct.

“Meemaw,” I called again, keeping my voice low enough so I wouldn’t catch Jeanette’s and Midori’s attention inside, but loud enough that Meemaw could hear me if she was around.

A low hiss came from the spigot, followed by the sputtering of water as air forced the liquid through the hose and out the end. I leaned closer, hoping she’d give me more than that little sign she was present. Nothing. The water turned to a trickle and the spigot did a half-degree turn, as if an invisible hand was on it cranking it to the right.

“Loretta Mae,” I said, trying one last time, and with her given name to show her I was serious and needed her.

The shrubs next to the porch shook, the leaves dancing with the movement. The slow breeze that had been spiraling around me dissipated and then, before my eyes, it gathered like storm clouds, concentrating in the rustling bush. A low gasp escaped from my lips and I leaned over the railing, watching as the milky white mist grew more opaque.

“Come on, Meemaw,” I said, my breath catching in my throat. She’d come close to manifesting in front of me a few times, but each instance, it was as if she’d run out of energy and hadn’t been able to appear.

My words seemed to fall like stones, breaking apart the focused energy of the moment. The mist became loose and airy, finally disappearing, and the burst of air went from cool to warm to icy, all in a matter of seconds. I reached over the railing, stretching toward the shrub and where I was sure she’d been, but nothing was there. “Don’t go, Meemaw,” I called, fighting back the tears pooling in my eyes.

The door behind me opened and someone stepped onto the porch. “Harlow! There you are!”

I turned to see Jeanette holding up the sweetheart dress. “Look at this. It’s just about done. Have to finish slip-stitching the lining to the zipper and waist, and then your—what is she again? Your niece? Or your cousin?”

“Cousin,” I answered, glad I didn’t have to explain just exactly how she was related. That was too complicated a story. I threw a lingering look over my shoulder, still hoping I’d see another sign that Meemaw was still here, but all was silent.

Jeanette continued. “Well, she needs to try it on so we can do the straps, and then it’s a wrap.”

I refocused on her and smiled. It was perfect. Contemporary, yet with a vintage style that Gracie would love. “You’re really good,” I said, fingering the voile overlayer of the skirt. “Fast, too.”

She smiled as she pulled together the sides of her cardigan and blushed. “I’m great if I have a pattern. I’m even great at making patterns if I have a starting place. But custom designs still take me a long time. The creative eye takes a lot of effort for me.”

“It takes a while to gain confidence in your design abilities,” I said, “but once you have a few under your belt, you’ll start to develop your personal style and it’ll all come so much more easily.”

“I hope so,” she said as she hung Gracie’s sweetheart dress on the privacy screen.

Midori had been quiet, hunched over my maid of honor dress. It crossed my mind that I should tell her she didn’t need to break her back to get it done because Mama had canceled the wedding, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words. I was as stubborn as Mama was, and I was committed to saving the Cassidy-McClaine nuptials. “Where’s Orphie?” she asked, finally looking up. “I thought you went for a walk.”

“She’s gone off to the store,” I said, sitting down at Meemaw’s old Singer. I grabbed two squares from a pile of fabric I kept handy for moments like these, placed a smaller square of cotton batting between them, and stitched an X across it. I tossed it onto the teetering stack of completed squares, picked up another two, and stitched again. It was mindless and quick to slap two pieces of fabric together and before long, I’d have enough to stitch the squares together into rows, and then I’d have enough rows to sew together into a big rectangle. I’d fray the edges and voilà! I’d have a rag quilt.

Restless, I got up and paced, going back into the front room.

If Mama were here, and if she weren’t completely preoccupied with her wedding that wasn’t going to happen, she’d have insisted that Midori and Jeanette stay for dinner. Or when she saw that I hadn’t insisted, she’d have swatted me on the arm for my lack of hospitality. I was failing as a Southern hostess.

Three quick taps came on the front door before it swung open, bells tinkling lightly. Will stepped in. Gracie followed, and, as if he’d heard her coming from a mile away, Earl Grey scampered down the steps and straight to Gracie.

“We’re here!” She scooted toward me, her eyes wide. “You really have a surprise for me, Harlow?” she asked before Will had even closed the door.

“Hey,” he said, flashing her a “you have better manners than that” look.

She laughed, scratching Earl Grey behind the ears. “Sorry. But a surprise from Harlow is, you know, gonna be awesome!”

She looked more rested than she had the day before. Maybe she’d figured out something about her charm. Even if she hadn’t, the sweetheart dress would hopefully help. It was hard to know what you had until it was actually on a body, but no matter what, it would be free of history, and it would also kick in my charm and help one of her dreams come true. Will, Gracie, and I were almost our own little family, which pleased me to no end, and I knew not even a murder on the premises could rip us apart.

I took her by the arm and led her to the workroom, swinging my arm wide toward the dress I had designed for her. She skidded to a stop behind me, her arms going a little slack. Earl Grey fidgeted until she finally crouched to let him free. He scampered away, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Is that for me?” Gracie asked, her voice suddenly filled with wonder.

Jeanette beamed, walking up to it and slipping it off the hanger.

“It’s for you,” I said. “For the wedding. We just need to fit the straps, and it’ll be done.”

Will caught my eye, his lips tight under his closely shaved goatee. “I heard something about that,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked, knowing full well what he’d heard. Bliss was a small town, after all, and if Mama had called Seven Gables, she’d also probably called Babe’s Chicken House, where we were supposed to have the rehearsal dinner, the florist, the bakery, and who knows who else? She never did anything halfway.

“Shep, over at Johnny Joe’s, he mentioned something about the wedding being off.”

Gracie gasped. “Dad, that cannot be true. Ms. Cassidy and the sheriff aren’t getting married?”

“Shep Shepherd’s wrong,” I said. “There
is
going to be a wedding.”

I ushered Gracie to the privacy screen to try on the dress, and a minute later she emerged, a vision in vintage. “I love it!” she said, twirling in front of the full-length mirror. I could see the peace on her face. It suited her perfectly, fit her even better, and best of all, it was history free. No distracting visions.

Jeanette marked the positioning of the straps, made a few adjustments, and Gracie disappeared again.

“She has a few pieces of clothing that don’t seem to bother her,” Will said into my ear, low enough so that only I could hear.

“Now she has one more,” I said, squeezing his hand. “It’ll get easier for her. I promise.”

She stepped out from behind the screen again, this time dressed in her cutoff jeans and another cheap T-shirt. As she hooked the hanger holding the sweetheart dress back on the screen, she froze and her body lurched. A visible trembled passed over her, like a mini seizure. She fell against the screen and I could see her left hand clutching the fabric of the tiki dress that had once belonged to Meemaw.

Will and I hurried to her. I eased her hand free of the cotton. Poor thing. Her charm, at least for the time being, took her by surprise and threw her way off-kilter. It was like having an allergic reaction to dust—something you couldn’t escape.

Midori and Jeanette stared, clearly not sure what to make of what was happening. “Is she okay?” Midori asked.

Will nodded. “She’s fine. Just a . . . condition she has. Don’t worry.”

We led her out of the room, and out of earshot. Her chest rose and fell as she dragged in heavy breaths. “What did you see?” I asked her once she’d calmed down.

She shook her head, but I got the feeling she was trying to shake the images out of her mind as much as she was responding to my question. “It was weird this time. Really jumbled. I mean, it’s always jumbled, but this was different.” She closed her eyes as if she was pulling up the images she’d just seen. “Color. Red and orange and yellow. Like angry flames. And then piles of white.”

She opened her eyes, shaking the tension out of her arms. “It’s all gone now.”

Will wrapped her up in a hug and a minute later she scooted up the stairs in search of Earl Grey.

Will ripped his Longhorns cap off his head, slapping it against his open palm as he paced the length of the room.

I knew Gracie would adjust, just as all the Cassidy women did, to her charm. “She’ll be okay,” I reassured him.

He breathed, visibly calming himself. “I know,” he said, and then more forcefully, “I know.”

“Can we talk?” I asked after a minute.

He nodded. I left my little atelier and followed him to the front porch. The second the door closed, he had me in his arms. “I missed you,” he said.

“I miss you, too.” We hadn’t had a chance to talk since Beaulieu had died. “I’ve been running around—”

I stopped when his lips met mine. “Mmm-hmm. Doing a little sleuthing.”

I sank into him, thinking I could deny it, but he knew me too well. “Maybe a tiny bit.”

“Because he didn’t die naturally, did he?”

I shook my head, regaining my equilibrium. Being so near Will made me never want to leave his side. True love. Meemaw believed in it, and I did, too. The idea made me think again about Mama and Hoss. They had it. I just had to help them remember. Which brought me back to figuring out what had happened to Beaulieu.

“I think he was blackmailing someone, Will. What if that person just wanted it to end?” I took him through the discovery of the body, the sheriff’s department combing my house—once again, Midori’s fight with the designer, and his belligerent behavior. I left out sneaking into Beaulieu’s room at Seven Gables since I wasn’t sure if we’d discovered anything or not. There were a lot of different possibilities, but none of them sounded quite right.

Will nodded, but his expression had turned serious. “I also heard something about you, uh, being
looked
at.”