worked well for them both. Gus and the Hathaways had stated that they knew Belle only in regard to her job and had no idea who would have wanted to kill her.
Just when Skye thought she might avoid being present when her cousin found out that Belle was dead, Riley, her mother, Anita, and her grandmother Dora showed up at the motor court. Skye wasn’t surprised to see them; she was only amazed it had taken them so long to hear about the murder. Scumble River’s grapevine usually rivaled the Internet for speed and inaccuracy.
Riley helped her grandmother out of the backseat of Anita’s Taurus, then spotted Skye and ran over to her. “What’s going on here?” She gestured to the police cars filling the parking lot. “We were at twelve o’clock Mass, and I knew something was up because my cell kept vibrating, so I went into the bathroom and I had a gazillion texts from Tab and Paige about some emergency having to do with Belle. So I got Mom and Gram and came right over.” The blond bride-to-be took a much-needed breath, then continued. “Please, please, tell me that Belle’s okay. There can’t be something wrong with her. Not six days before my wedding.”
Dora chimed in, “I’m sure it will be fine, baby girl.”
“Skye,” Anita ordered, “tell us everything’s all right.”
“Uh.” Skye glanced at Wally, who was talking to one of the county crime techs but plainly monitoring her conversation as well. She raised a brow; should she inform them of Belle’s death? He nodded, and she said gently, “I’m so sorry, but Belle was found dead this morning.”
“No!” Anita screamed.
Riley threw herself in her mother’s arms and burst into tears. Dora swayed, and Skye rushed over to catch the elderly woman before she fell. Supporting her great aunt, Skye herded Anita and Riley into the motor court’s office.
Once they were all inside and Dora and Anita had settled in the tiny reception area’s only two chairs, Skye leaned against the wall, uncertain what to do next. Surprisingly, none of the three women had asked how Belle had died, which was good because that information hadn’t been released yet.
Riley pulled herself together enough to fetch Dora a glass of water, but as soon as she was sure her grandmother was okay, she put her Frankenbride face back on. Currently she was crying and whining into her cell at her groom, who was en route from Chicago.
Charlie sat behind the counter, ignoring the women and gazing at the TV mounted in the corner opposite him. If the problem didn’t concern someone he loved or something he was in charge of, he wasn’t interested.
Riley finally clicked shut her phone and stamped her foot. “It’s not fair. I’ve been dreaming of this day since I was six years old. Nick claims even he can’t get another wedding coordinator this close to the date, and I want my wedding to be exactly how I planned.”
“I can do it, Riley.” Anita straightened in her seat. “Mother and I told you from the beginning we could put on your wedding.”
“Mommy.” Riley’s tone was sugarcoated steel. “It’s so sweet of you and Gram to want to help me, but you know we talked about that. It’s just too much for you two to handle.” She zeroed in on Skye. “You’ll just have to do it.”
“Me! But I can’t. I have no idea how to pull together a wedding like yours.” Skye was flabbergasted. “I figured you’d postpone the ceremony, or maybe simplify the whole shebang.” If Skye had even considered that Riley might try to rope her into taking over, she would have had a good excuse ready.
Anita spoke before Skye could say more. “Miss Canfield’s passing is a terrible tragedy, but it really has nothing to do with Riley.” She sniffed. “It’s not as if she were family.”
“But . . .” Skye trailed off, momentarily distracted by a blast of music from the TV set as Charlie channel surfed.
Anita jumped out of her chair, marched over to him, and held out her hand.
Greg Herren
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Thomas A. Timmes
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Fran Lee
Alain de Botton
William R. Forstchen
Craig McDonald
Kristina M. Rovison