Slay it with Flowers by Kate Collins

him.
    I started the ignition, turned on my radio, and drove off in the opposite direction, glad to be leaving that bunch behind. I still had to get through the shower, the rehearsal dinner, the wedding, and the reception, but that was only four events. I could handle four events.
     
    Simon’s wet nose pushing against my chin woke me up minutes before my alarm went off the next morning. He had an inner clock that never failed. I snuggled with him a few moments, then hit the alarm’s Off button and got up to dress for my walk at the track. The phone rang just before I left, and I grabbed it so it wouldn’t wake Nikki, snoring soundly across the hall.
    “Abby?” Jillian’s voice—panicky, on the verge of tears. Nothing unusual about that, only that she was awake so early. “Claymore just called. Flip didn’t come home last night. Something must have happened to him.”
    “It’s still early,” I said, trying to think what to do. “Don’t let fear override your common sense.” Common sense? Jillian? What was I saying?
    “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!” Jillian wailed in my ear.
    “No, it’s not. Vomiting on your high school gym teacher because she wanted you to climb the rope was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
    “I’d just had my nails done. Who could blame me? Oh, Abby, what if Flip is lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Do you know what this will do to my wedding?”
    I rolled my eyes, but only Simon was there to witness it, and he was busy cleaning his ear with one paw. I took the phone to the living room and sat on the sofa. “What was Flip driving?
    “A rental car—a Ford Taurus or something.”
    “Is it in the hotel parking lot?”
    “No, it’s gone, too.”
    “Has anyone called the police?”
    “I don’t know. I can’t think. You’ve got to help me, Abby. You always know what to do.”
    “I’m on my way to the track. Can’t Claymore handle it?”
    “Claymore? You’re joking, right? You know how high-strung he is. His parents gave him a sedative and put him to bed.”
    “How about Pryce? He doesn’t have nerves.”
    “He’s taking depositions all week.”
    “Flip’s parents?”
    “Cruising down the Nile. Please, Abby! I need you desperately.”
    “Okay,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
    Nikki emerged from her bedroom in her crumpled pink pj’s, her short dishwater-blond hair sticking up all over. Nikki was tall and lanky and completely believed that there was a prince out there waiting for her to kiss him. Her latest frog was a male nurse named Scott, a very decent sort and, more important, unmarried. I knew this because I’d checked him out. Nikki had been hurt too many times by guys who’d hid their wedding rings from her.
    She dropped onto the sofa, yawning. “Who called so early?”
    “Jillian. One of her groomsmen is missing—a guy called Flip.”
    “No kidding! Where is he?”
    “Nik, if we knew that, he wouldn’t be missing.”
    “It’s too early for logic.” She clumped into the kitchen in furry purple slippers in search of orange juice. “What happened last night? Did you talk to Pryce?”
    I followed her into the kitchen and gave her the complete rundown on the soiree and ended with Jillian’s latest plea for help.
    “You can’t very well turn her down,” Nikki pointed out. “She might ban you from the wedding, and then what would you do with that hideous bridesmaid dress?” She aimed her gaze at the photo clipped to the refrigerator. Jillian had cut it out of a bridal magazine for me. On the other bridesmaids the dresses would look elegant, like a water-color of tall white tulips swaying gracefully against an aquamarine sky. Give me a red rubber nose and oversized shoes and I could get a job with the circus.
    “Omigod!” I grabbed the calendar off the fridge. “I have to go for my fitting tonight.”
    Nikki downed the juice and put the glass in the sink. “I’m going back to bed.