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Authors: Nancy J. Parra

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BOOK: Bodice of Evidence
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“Do you make it a habit of leaving the shop when Eva or Vidalia have people in the salons?”

“What?”

“Pepper, that's enough,” Mom said. “Let the girl do her job.”

The door opened and Vidalia walked in. “Sorry, that was another appointment calling to cancel. I tried to tell them that you were here and very comfortable, but they said they didn't want a murder associated with their dress.” She sighed.

Felicity gave Mom a silent look of
See, I told you.

“Well, um, if there's nothing else I can do for you, I'll
leave you in Vidalia's good hands,” Theresa said, and skirted out the door.

“We can give you a nice review online,” I offered.

Vidalia looked relieved. “Would you? Only if you really believe I did a good job, though. Now, Felicity, let's try on dress number two. It is probably what you thought you wanted when you came in. Let's see if it still is, okay?”

I moved back to my chair so that Vidalia could take down the next dress. She and Felicity went back behind the screen.

“What was that all about?” Mom whispered to me.

“What?” I snagged a grape.

“You were grilling that poor girl.”

“She seems suspicious to me,” I said. “Didn't she act suspicious to you?”

“She did seem nervous, but it might be because her job is on the line and you acted as if she might have something to do with Eva's death.”

I raised my pale red eyebrows. “Who says she didn't?”

“Stop it. I'm certain Detective Murphy has ruled her out already. Now, did you notice the second dress is the white one? Do you think she is going to talk Felicity into wearing the pale blue one?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Let's see how it looks before we get upset, okay?” I patted Mom's knee. She frowned at me. Today she wore a pair of light brown wool slacks, a cotton button-down white blouse that was tailored to her curves, and a brown sweater.

I had on navy slacks with a silky blue-and-white-striped
long-sleeved shirt, a slim gold belt, and polished flats. I never knew when I might have to meet with a client and so I always dressed meeting ready. Besides, Mom had taught us early on that if you wanted good service when you went shopping, you should always dress your best. Shop girls gravitated to people who gave off the appearance of money whether you spent anything or not.

“Okay, ladies, here is the traditional white gown,” Vidalia said as Felicity walked out. The gown had a strapless sweetheart neckline. It was pinned tight to the waist and hip but was more of a fit-and-flare style than the traditional mermaid look.

“You look very beautiful,” I said carefully.

Felicity stepped up on the dais and studied herself from all angles in the mirror. “It is sort of the shape I was thinking.”

“I hear a big
but
in that statement,” Mom said as she steepled her fingers.

Felicity made eye contact with us from the mirror. “It does seem like the same dress all the girls are wearing.”

“There is nothing wrong with that, if the dress is what you wanted,” Vidalia pointed out.

Felicity bit her bottom lip. “It is what I was thinking . . .”

There was a knock at the door and Theresa stuck her head inside. “I'm so sorry to interrupt, Vidalia. It's the Marshal party. They want to cancel their order.”

“What? No! We are already on the second fitting.”

Theresa's expression was helpless. “I know. I explained
that to them, but they are adamant. I think you need to talk to them directly.”

“I'm sorry, this will only take a moment,” Vidalia said. “Please take your time discussing this dress. Knock on the door when you are ready to change and Theresa or I will come in and help you.” Vidalia left, closing the door behind her.

“Poor thing,” Mom muttered. “I can't imagine how she is going to recover from this.”

I noticed Felicity still frowning at her reflection. “That's not the dress, is it?”

“No,” she said with a sigh. “It's not.”

“I'll get Theresa.” I opened the door and waved Theresa over. “Felicity is ready to take the dress off.”

“Of course.” The young woman pushed by me.

I noticed that Vidalia was on the phone and having a very animated discussion. As I went to close the door, a young man walked into the shop. It seemed strange that a guy would come into the bridal shop alone. He didn't have any boxes or bags, so he wasn't a delivery guy.

The young man was dressed in low-hanging jeans and sloppy tennis shoes, and a black hoodie covered his hair, leaving only a pale thin face showing. Vidalia's expression when she spotted the guy had all my warning bells going off. If this was a robbery, I didn't want my family involved. I closed the door until only a partial crack showed and listened as Vidalia hung up the phone. If there was going to be another crime, I wanted to keep my family
safe.

Chapter 8

“What do you want, Thad?” Vidalia's tone was decidedly chilly.

Okay, so Vidalia knew the guy, but she wasn't so happy to see him.

“Is Theresa here?” he asked, looking around. I closed the door a little more so as not to be noticed.

“She's working.” Vidalia crossed her arms.

“Dude, I need to see her.”

“Fine. Wait here.” Vidalia headed toward our room and I quickly closed the door and pretended to study the last gown. “I'm so sorry,” Vidalia said as she entered the room. “I need Theresa for a moment.”

By this time Felicity was out of the second dress. Theresa
was putting the dress on the hanger when she came out from behind the screen.

“What's the matter?” Theresa said as she hung the second dress on the wall peg.

“Thad is here and he's insisting on seeing you.” Vidalia expression was stern. “I told him you were working, but he won't leave until he sees you.”

Theresa ducked her head and hurried out the door.

“I'm so sorry. This will only take a moment more. Please help yourself to the refreshments. If you need to use the facilities, there is a restroom just down the hall on the left.”

She left, closing the door behind her. I took that as my cue to follow on the pretense of finding the restroom. “I'll be right back,” I said.

Vidalia was scolding the couple about work boundaries and how Theresa was on the clock and should never be interrupted. I moved down the hall toward the bathroom until I was out of sight but still within hearing range.

“Dude, chill,” Thad said. “This will only take a second.”

“And that's another thing,” Vidalia said firmly. “I am not a dude. My name is Vidalia Denikin. Mrs. Denikin to you.”

“Sure,” Thad said. He and Theresa moved toward the door, which was closer to me but still out of sight.

“What do you want?” Theresa asked.

“You know what I want,” Thad said.

“You can't come in here like this. It looks bad.”

“Give me what I want and I'll go away.”

“Fine.”

I peeked around the corner to see Theresa give Thad
some money. The guy pocketed the cash and gave Theresa a kiss on the cheek.

“You're the best, babe.”

He left and I heard Vidalia chastise Theresa. “He cannot come in here. I mean it. He looks like a hoodlum and I need my shop to be above reproach. Especially now. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Theresa said.

“Good, now sit at that desk and do your job. I'm going back in and seeing if I can salvage the one appointment we still have.”

I hurried to the bathroom door and pretended to be coming out as Vidalia passed the hall. “Trouble?”

She stopped at the sight of me and sighed. “I'm sorry for the interruption. Theresa is a good worker, but she has a terrible time with her choice of men.”

“She said she was out sick the day your mother died,” I said. “That must have made things crazy here, having no receptionist.”

“Not so bad.” She shrugged. “I was able to go to the coffee shop and take a much-needed break.”

“Oh, that's right. You had coffees in your hands when you came in that day. There weren't any clients here, were there?”

“No, we were swamped that morning. I remember because I had a particularly difficult appointment and I lost her because I had to keep going to answer the door.” She frowned. “Sometimes I wish I could hire an extra girl, but that's for the future now.”

“Strange, I remember you having three coffees when
you came in,” I said. “I have no idea why I would have thought of that.”

“I did have three coffees,” she said. “My mother loved her coffee. It was never enough to bring her one.”

“Huh, I suppose there are some two-fisted coffee drinkers. Did anyone hold a grudge against your mother?”

“Are you asking if she has—I mean had—any enemies? The answer to that is no. Everyone loved her. My mother had an uncanny ability to make every bride happy and soothe the family issues that always come up in wedding situations.”

“She must have been an extraordinary woman.”

“She was.” Tears welled up in Vidalia's eyes. “I told Detective Murphy that I think the motive was a robbery gone wrong.”

“Why do you say that?” I drew my brows together in confusion. Detective Murphy didn't let me in on this little tidbit. The last thing I knew, he didn't think it was a robbery because nothing seemed to be missing from the shop.

“We don't keep a lot of money on the premises. Most of our gowns are far too expensive for cash. But when I had a chance to check the inventory, I discovered that the petty cash was missing, along with a couple of our top designer gowns worth thousands.”

“Who would buy a stolen wedding gown?”

She shrugged. “People sell gowns on the Internet all the time. I'm certain someone would jump at getting a designer sample gown for a quarter of the price. Even at that price point the thief would make thousands.”

“Did you let Detective Murphy know? I mean, they could have someone looking for the stolen dresses listed on the Internet.”

“Yes, of course, he said that he has his men keeping an eye on the Internet sites that sell second-hand dresses in case one of mine shows up. Perhaps it will lead them to the killer.” She shrugged. “Still, for the dresses to come back in showroom condition is a long shot as you say. I'm better off getting my insurance to pay for it.” Vidalia gave a forced laugh. “Come on, let's go inside. I have the perfect dress for your sister and it's time she tried it on.”

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Sure,” she said, but her tone made it clear she was done being questioned.

“Do you take a coffee break at the shop the same time every day?”

“Of course, it's sort of a thing with me. I like to keep a regular schedule. Are you ready to see your sister in her perfect dress?”

“Of course,” I said, and let her lead me into the room. But my thoughts were not on Felicity. They were on the fact that if she took her break the same time every day, the killer may have known that Eva was here alone.

*   *   *

Mom gave me a questioning look when I returned and sat down beside her. I raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and snagged a little cake from the plate.

“I'm so sorry for all the delays, ladies,” Vidalia said
as she pulled the last dress from its hook. “Come on, Felicity. Are you ready to see your wedding dress?”

Felicity rolled her eyes at us. “Sure.”

They went behind the screen and Mom leaned toward me. “Did you get your answers? Because Felicity has had enough of this place. Once she says no to this dress, we're out of here.”

“Yes, I did,” I said. “We can go anytime that Felicity wants.”

“And here she is, your bride,” Vidalia said as Felicity walked out from behind the curtain.

The dress was not pale blue as we first thought, but rather a lovely abalone-colored silk that shimmered in the lightest of blues and pinks and whites. The top was a delicate pale bluish white lace that covered the strapless part of the pearl silk and formed a portrait collar and three-quarter length sleeves. The gown narrowed at the waist then flared slightly, falling to the ground in delicate waves. The skirt had a wrapped train that flowed from the side of the waist to the back of the dress, revealing a panel of white embroidered flowers on the back of the skirt and along the hem of the train.

“Oh!” Mom put her hands to her mouth, her eyes filled with tears.

Felicity stepped up on the dais and froze. She gave the same little gasp as my mother and her eyes also welled up. Watching them made my heart tumble in delight. The dress was perfect.

Vidalia didn't gloat. Instead she snagged a veil from
the tall thin shelves filled with veils and gloves on the wall next to the door and went to work. “And there is our bride,” she said, and stepped back with pride.

“Oh, Felicity!” Mom was on her feet and standing beside my sister. I couldn't help but follow.

“It's the dress,” Felicity said in an awed whisper.

“It's the dress,” Vidalia said with a smile.

“How did you know?” Felicity asked.

“I just do. Like I said, it's a gift.”

For the first time that day I knew that Vidalia was telling the absolute truth. My sister was a bride. The reflection of her and my mom and me in the three-way mirror made my heart squeeze. This was the moment dreams were made of and one of many moments I hoped my new career would be able to provide for a lifetime of other
women.

BOOK: Bodice of Evidence
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