What the Hatmaker Heard. Sandra Bretting

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What the Hatmaker Heard - Sandra Bretting A Missy DuBois Mystery

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at the altar. That’s not who he is.”

      A-ha. Wesley’s father. Mr. Carmichael’s face slowly reddened, and several people tried to gently coax him back into his seat. He shook off their efforts as if they were flies that buzzed around his shoulders.

      “I have news about your son.” Lance waited for Mr. Carmichael to regain his composure before he continued. “He didn’t abandon his fiancée. We found his body this morning, right here on the property.”

      Someone gasped at the back of the room. The next sound I heard was a soft thud as a body fell to the ground. It seemed to come from the back of the room, near Mr. Carmichael.

      I craned my neck to peer over several heads. Sure enough, the old man remained seated—but a woman bedside him had fallen to the floor. Wesley’s mother, perhaps?

      “Get that woman some air.” Lance moved to the back of the room. “Don’t crowd around her.”

      He rushed over to the fallen woman and gently rolled her onto her back. Then he carefully loosened a bow she’d tied at her neck and undid the first few buttons of her silk blouse.

      “Let’s sit her up.” Lance nodded at one of the groomsmen, who hovered nearby, and together they eased Mrs. Carmichael into a sitting position. “We need to get her upstairs, to her room.” Lance motioned to another man; this one also in the wedding party. “You, there. Grab her other arm.”

      “That’s okay.” Mr. Carmichael quickly stood and inserted himself between Lance and the groomsman. “She’s my wife. It’s my responsibility.”

      “No,” Lance said firmly. “Let these other guys do it. No offense, but I want to make sure she gets there safely.”

      With that, the two strapping groomsmen lifted Mrs. Carmichael by the shoulders and hoisted her to her feet. By this time, she’d come around, and her head lolled back and forth as she was guided from the room.

      Her husband tried to leave, as well.

      “I’d like you to stay here, Mr. Carmichael,” Lance said. “I need to speak with you, if you don’t mind.”

      “But…” The older man looked confused, as if he didn’t know which way to turn. After a few moments, he seemed to bow to Lance’s wishes. “Of course, Officer. Whatever you say.”

      I quickly snuck a glance at the bride. She hadn’t budged from her spot on the small sofa, although she looked ashen.

      I worried that maybe she’d gone into shock, so I quickly stepped in front of the sofa. “Lorelei? Are you all right?”

      She glanced at me, but her stare was vacant. I’d found that sometimes it helped to touch a person who’d just received bad news, since it seemed to ground them to the here and now and kept them from slipping away.

      I softly placed my hand on her knee. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be all right.”

      She didn’t respond, though. It was almost as if she couldn’t hear me.

      “Now see here, Officer LaPorte.” It was the florist, who spoke so loudly, both Lorelei and I flinched. “Are you sure it was Wesley? How do you know you didn’t make a mistake? It could’ve been someone else.”

      “There was no mistake, Mr. Lee.” Lance stared hard at the florist as he returned to the front of the room. “He passed away sometime last night. Another inspector is on her way over here to secure the scene and help me start the investigation.”

      “But…how?” Finally, Lorelei found her voice. It was shaky and weak, but at least she could speak.

      “We don’t have any details right now.” Lance had softened his voice. “Until we do, I need everyone to stay on the property. I want to get a statement from each of you.”

      Several people started to protest, but Lance silenced them all by holding up his hand.

      “It’s police procedure, and you don’t have a choice. I apologize if that means you have to miss something, but it can’t be helped.”

      Lorelei’s soft voice spoke again from the sofa. “I don’t believe it, either. I’m sure it’s all a mistake. A terrible, horrible, awful mistake…”

      Her words came faster and faster.

      Uh-oh. I squeezed her knee tightly, but she didn’t even acknowledge me. “Lorelei. Look at me. I need you to take a deep breath. C’mon. Breathe with me.”

      She slowly brought her gaze around to my face. By now, her shoulders were shaking and her skin looked unnaturally pale.

      “She needs something to drink,” I said loudly. “Something strong.”

      The young bride gazed at me helplessly, desperate for something, anything, to make sense of what she’d just heard.

      “Get the woman something to drink,” Lance repeated to the crowd. He quickly singled out Buck. “You, there. Get her something strong. Now!”

      The best man sprang into action. He bolted from the sofa and made a beeline to a large globe that sat at the back of the room. With one yank, he opened the top half of the globe, which concealed a bar inside. Several bottles of liquor winked up from a black velvet lining. He reached for one, and then he poured about an inch’s worth of alcohol into a tumbler, which he rushed back to the sofa. He’d obviously visited the bar before, since he knew exactly what to do.

      “Here.” He thrust the tumbler at Lorelei. “Drink this.”

      His hand shook as he passed her the drink.

      Lorelei looked dubious, but she accepted his offering and downed it. Then she set the glass on the ground and closed her eyes. “I want to see him.” Her voice was still shaky but audible. “Take me to him.”

      “I’m afraid I can’t do that right now,” Lance said. “We need to wait for the medical examiner first. She’ll do an examination, and then I can let you see him.”

      “I’ll stay with her.” It was Nelle, who hadn’t spoken until now. She moved around the sofa and elbowed me out of the way. “Lorelei, dear…come upstairs with me. You’ve had a terrible shock, and you need to lie down. I insist.”

      Although Lorelei tried to protest, her mother wouldn’t take no for an answer. She gently took hold of her daughter’s arm and carefully pulled her up from the couch. The minute she did that, Lorelei finally felt free enough to collapse into her mother’s arms.

      “There, there.” Mrs. Honeycutt stroked her daughter’s hair as the girl wept.

      Lance turned to address the crowd. “Like I said…I need to get a statement from each of you. You can either go to your room or stay somewhere else, but please don’t leave. I’d like you all to stay inside, too, until after the medical examiner leaves.”

      Given that directive, the group began to disband. It started with the lady in stilettos, whom I’d pegged for a maiden aunt the day before. She tottered out of the room, and she was followed by several others, including Buck, Jamie, and the bridesmaid from breakfast.

      Darryl

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