Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The by Krista Davis Page B

Old Town, maybe stop in at Gadsby’s Tavern and have a look around the museum.”

    Excitement lit Joel’s face. “Are you sure you don’t need us to help around here?”

    “Of course not. You’re a guest. You should be out enjoying yourself. Go on, and take the groom-to-be with you.”

    “That’s not a bad idea. I’d like to get to know Craig better. We only met once before.”

    From the window over the kitchen sink, I watched Craig and Joel walk away to be sure Craig wouldn’t turn around for something. To be on the safe side, I stared at the clock and waited four minutes before tearing up the stairs, Mochie and Daisy scampering along at my side.

    I’d put Craig in a guest room on the second floor. Decorated by Faye, it was decidedly unmasculine. A canopy bed took up too much space, but I’d kept it because it bestowed a colonial grace that Mars’s mother particularly liked.

    Craig had left his suitcase next to the rocking chair by the window that overlooked the backyard. Generic gray Samsonite, it could have been purchased anywhere. I pulled it toward me and the chair tilted forward. Kneeling, I laid the bag on the floor and hit the latches on the front. They were locked.

    I sat back on my heels and stared at it. Who locked a suitcase for a trip by car? I tried again with no luck.

    Where would a man keep a suitcase key? In his wallet. And he’d surely taken it with him.

    I rose and peeked in the closet, where I found an inexpensive gray hanging bag, the kind they give you when you buy a suit. I unzipped it and felt around inside. It didn’t contain much. A navy suit and the tuxedo he’d bought for the wedding.

    Even though it was a long shot, I checked the pockets of the suit. Nothing. Not even a stick of gum. I pressed the fabric of the tuxedo between my hands. Nothing in the trouser pockets.

    But when I pried at the lining of the tuxedo jacket for an inside pocket, I felt a little key.

    Eureka! I pulled it out, but when I saw what hung on it, chills ran through me.

TEN

    From “The Live with Natasha Show” :

    Weddings are the biggest event in our lives. You can sew and craft incredible things to make your wedding special. But this is the one time you ought to hire a professional, too. Don’t leave it up to your sister to run the show. No matter how good her intentions, a wedding can be a disaster in the hands of an amateur.

    On the end of a delicate chain hung a sparkling diamond set in a ring of yellow gold. I staggered backward a step, my breath coming hard. It looked suspiciously like the one Emily wore when I’d met her that morning.

    Lots of people owned diamond necklaces, I rationalized. I had no reason to believe that this particular one had circled Emily’s neck earlier in the day. I tried to remember if she wore it when I found her, but I had paid no attention to her neck other than to realize that a rope had cut her life short.

    But if Craig had killed Emily and taken her necklace, wouldn’t he hide it in the locked suitcase? The diamond gleamed at me evilly. I was cramming it back into the inner breast pocket of the tuxedo when I heard shuffling at the door.

    I whipped around, the damning key still in my hand.

    Mom watched from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

    Why hadn’t I prepared some clever lie? “Just . . . making sure he has everything he needs.”

    “Sophie! You’re snooping.”

    “Mom, he killed Emily.”

    “We don’t know that for sure. What’s in your hand?”

    Debating whether to mention the necklace, I opened my fingers and showed her the key in my palm. “I think it will open his suitcase.”

    She raised her chin, and I expected a well-deserved scolding. “You’d better hurry before he comes back.”

    I fell to my knees by the suitcase, inserted the key into the lock, and twisted. The latch clicked open. I repeated the procedure on the other side.

    Lifting carefully, I raised the top.

    “Gracious, but he’s neat.”

    I had to