A Flower Girl Murder (3 page)

“Sage! Where on Earth did you go?” Prim panted, almost out of breath. “Is everything okay with the arch?”

“Prim!” Sage said, “I’ve just heard the most unusual thing.”

“How old
are
they?” Sage asked, scandalized, leaning in towards Prim who was taking endless snapshots of the flower arrangements. She had truly outdone herself this time. The wedding arch was heavy with lush hydrangeas in all hues of blue, their heads as big and impressive as handballs. Their pots were cleverly obscured with curly willow branches, ivy and sprays of green pom pom chrysanthemums. Delicate bouquets of baby breath accentuated the arrangement and satin ribbons in deep blue and jade flapped in the light ocean breeze.

The white wooden benches were decorated with similarly designed flower sets on either end and the aisle between the two rows was sprinkled with white petals. Some of the guests, mostly the women of Rosecliff, had already acknowledged her excellence with a palm placed over their hearts, a dramatic shake of the head and lips curled to form a silent “Aww!”

Prim was radiant.

“Prim!”

“What?” she put down the camera and finally looked at her sister, confused. “How old is
who
?”

“The groom and the bride, of course! They are
children
. Do they even know each other? I’ll say it again, how can you possibly bind yourself to another person for, like, ever, without knowing all their bags of nasty tricks.”

“Please, don’t be cynical, honey,” Prim said, and just when she was about to say that not everyone’s relationship ends up in ruins, she managed to control herself. “Anyway, they are both eighteen. Just graduated high-school. Have been dating for years. The whole town knew it was a matter of months before the wedding was announced. The town’s sweethearts, they are.”

Sage rolled her eyes. Still, she didn’t feel as miserable as she’d expected to feel at an event celebrating other people’s love. She was not clutching a handkerchief in expectation of a downpour of sniffles and happy tears, like most of the women on the benches and in the crowd gathered beside each row, but she found at least it wasn’t heart-wrenching and painful to attend. Plus, she wanted to be there for Prim who was beaming as if she was the guest of honor herself.

There was a sudden commotion among the guests, and the groom and his entourage of just two groomsmen assumed a proud, erect pose as if on cue. All heads turned back to where a golf cart was wobbling through the grass, approaching. From where they stood on the fringe of the crowd, Sage and Primrose were among the first to clearly see the glowing, beautiful bride.

Sage had already seen her when she’d been charged with delivering the bouquets for her and her two bridesmaids at the bride’s home, but the girl hadn’t been completely ready then. Now, she looked like a fairytale princess, young and fresh, blushing with happiness and anticipation.

People stood up and the village green exploded with spontaneous applause as the proud father, a tall formidable man, escorted his daughter slowly towards the gathered crowd. His stark features were softened a bit by the tiny smile and the glint in his eyes as he basked in the warm welcome, his giant hand cupping his daughter’s dainty one. The breeze caught the gauzy veil and it flew festively behind the bride, extracting a few oh-s and ah-s from the town’s women. Her long, fairy skirts flowed beautifully around her and she appeared as if gliding towards her future husband.

Primrose lightly nudged Sage in the ribs with her elbow and without breaking her fascinated gaze from the bride, indicated the bridal bouquet with her chin.

“It’s exquisite, Prim, really,” Sage admitted. She was finally starting to get in the wedding mood and for a moment, if you asked her, love was really the driving force of life.

The two bridesmaids, dressed in long aqua gowns, stepped forward from behind the guests and took their positions at the foot of the aisle leading to the altar. One of them carried a white rattan basket decorated with blue ribbons and full of pastel-colored rose petals, another one of Prim’s creations.

Finally, as the bride and her father almost reached the spot where Prim and Sage stood, the joyful first tones of the wedding march reverberated through the air. The applause seized and everyone seemed to be holding their breath as the flower girl took her first steps down the aisle, ceremoniously strewing sprays of flower petals in the air in front of her. The second bridesmaid waited a few beats and took her own turn between the rows of white benches, smiling at the guests and holding a smaller, but still gorgeous bouquet of white hydrangeas. Last came the father-daughter duet, grand and happy in their entrance.

The procession moved at a slow pace, giving everyone a chance to admire the beauty of the bride and her phenomenal gown. Sage rested her head on her sister’s shoulder and watched on dreamily until all of a sudden a loud shriek jolted her back to reality.

By the time she and Prim realized something had happened down the aisle, there was a nest of heads and bodies formed around a spot only steps away from the arch and the altar and a loud wail pierced the buzzing of a hundred voices talking over each other.

Sage pulled Prim by the wrist towards the scene, curiosity driving her to make way through the thickening crowd. At the same time Prim spotted Ben’s face and waved frantically at him as he was pushing his way towards the center of the tight circle of people. Prim took a chance and this time it was her who grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her in Ben’s wake.

“Everyone, please take a few steps back,” Ben ushered and seeing who the command came from, people started respectfully retreating to let the sheriff reach the heap of white and blue strewn over the grass. Sage and Prim used the last chance to sneak in the first line of worried spectators, before the circle closed again behind their backs.

As Ben crouched down and put a gentle hand on the bare, heaving shoulder of the kneeling bride, she turned abruptly, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen already, and stared at him in confusion. Only now could Prim and Sage take a look at what lay sprawled in her voluminous skirts.

It was the flower girl.

From the way her limbs were contorted in the most unnatural angles it was clear that, as Ben confirmed only a moment after, she was dead.

CHAPTER THREE

Meat Pie and Talk of Murder

“You don’t think it had something to do with what I heard, do you?” Sage said, musing over a cup of steaming cocoa, which was surprisingly refreshing in the midday heat.

“Don’t be so dark,” Prim said, “I still can’t believe what happened. The girl was only eighteen after all. It couldn’t have been a heart attack. As far as I know, she didn’t have any health issues.”

“You seriously know the medical history of everyone in town?” Sage could afford to tease in a situation like this. She hadn’t spent her entire life surrounded by the same faces, knowing the tiniest, most insignificant minutiae about each member of the community. Naturally, she wasn’t as affected by the sudden death as her sister, who moved like a ghost, every now and then shaking her head in disbelief. Still, even in her shock, Prim had managed to scramble together the ingredients for a meat pie she would later take to the dead girl’s family and was now simply going through the motions of the baking process.

“It could have been the heat,” she said after finally closing the oven’s door and wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s not impossible, even for a person in prime health to collapse from dehydration. And she was so skinny. These girls and their diets…”

Sage stifled a snort. She couldn’t recall a time when her sister hadn’t been watching her figure. At thirty-six and after giving birth twice, Prim sported the body of a beauty queen, the laces of her frilly apron hugging the tiniest waist and her skirts enveloping firm thighs and an attractive pair of long legs. Sage couldn’t compete in that department with her rather boyish physique, her body made of flat planes and rough edges where soft curves should have been.

“And think of poor Jasmine,” Prim said in a low, confidential whisper as though what she was saying was shameful.

“Who was Jasmine again?” Sage asked, correctly assuming that the topic had moved off the deceased.

“The bride,” Prim said, “I know I shouldn’t be saying this, under
the circumstances
, but imagine your wedding day that you’ve been waiting for all your life turning out like this. They couldn’t even say ‘I do’!”

“I suppose they could just put it off for a while, until… Well, until everyone’s had the chance to process what happened to…”

“Natalie,” Prim supplied helpfully and added in a grim tone, “And I think it’s out of the question. If
I
were Jasmine, I’d just keep it within the family. A City Hall visit and a sufficiently nice dinner in a close circle can be just as festive, given that some time has passed.”

Sometimes Sage thought her sister sounded as if she was reading full passages from ‘Modern Manners and Etiquette.’ She was glad, however, that Prim was so well versed in small town do’s and dont’s and knew how everything should play out. Like that meat pie. Sage would never in a million years think of baking one. Not that she knew the first thing about baking.

Her cocoa finished, Sage took her cup to the sink and casually left it there for Prim to wash. When she was around her older sister, she turned into one big baby that couldn’t take care of herself.

“So, you don’t think it was murder?”

“
What?
” Prim was shocked. She had automatically picked up the dirty cup and started soaping it. “Why do you keep saying that? Who would want to hurt such a young, lovely creature? And ruin her sister’s wedding at the same time?”

“Are they sisters?” Sage asked, “I didn’t know that.”

“I know, they don’t look much alike, but yes, Natalie and Jasmine are Reverent Pendergrass’ daughters.”

“So the tall guy, the bride’s father, is the priest?”

“Right. He was going to officiate his daughter’s wedding and instead, now he has to deliver the eulogy for his other daughter. It just breaks my heart.”

The rich smell of warm, golden crust and onion gravy permeated the room when Prim opened the oven and took out the ready pie. Sage could barely contain herself from breaking off a small piece of crunchy, buttery crust, but Prim was guarding her creation like a hawk. She knew her sister too well.

“Easy now,” she said as if she was talking to a puppy, “I’ll bake another one just for you when we are back.”

“
We
? Back from where?”

“You are coming with me to deliver the pie.”

“No, Prim, I’d much prefer…”

“To sit around and wallow? No, it’s time for you to socialize a bit. I know it’s not a very happy occasion, but it would be good for you to meet some new people, start getting to know our neighbors.”

Sage didn’t think she had any say in the matter. After all, it looked like she was going to be staying with her sister indefinitely. She had absolutely no other place in the world to go to.

Prim took off her apron, scrunched it into a ball and sent it flying into the washing machine, together with all the kitchen towels she’d used. She put the pie in a clear plastic cake container and went into the hallway to check her hair and dress in the mirror. Sage reluctantly got up too and pulled up her baggy jeans. This was all the effort she could muster right now. She felt guilty for thinking it, but who would notice what she was wearing, when there had been a death in the family?

Just as the two of them were getting ready to leave, a tired looking Ben came in the front door. Prim hurried to greet him.

“Oh, Ben, it’s awful, isn’t it?” she said.

“It’s odd is what it is,” he said, slumping into a chair, frowning. “Do we have some coffee? I feel like I’ve put in a day’s work in just a couple of hours.”

“Sure. We were just on our way to the Pendergrasses, but I’ll brew some,” Prim said and started measuring out some ground coffee, careful not to sprinkle any over her cream-colored dress.

“Odd? Why odd?” Sage asked in the meantime. She liked Ben. The two of them had cultivated an almost sibling-like relationship and she felt as comfortable around him as if he was her big brother.

“Well, the whole thing is sort of strange. First, a perfectly healthy-looking girl collapses and dies in front of the entire town. Then I usher the body to the nurse to do some basic examination, since we don’t even have a doctor in Rosecliff, not to mention a pathologist.”

“I was just calling for some help from higher up,” he went on, “When I saw Reverent Pendergrass storm into the examination room and a minute later it was all a mess. He was shouting that what I was doing was illegal and his daughter had passed away from natural causes. He had the right to deny any autopsy based on his beliefs and he was exercising that right. He was so mad, for a minute I was even scared of him.”

“Oh, honey,” Prim said, “don’t blame the poor Reverent. It must be an awful time for him. No one knows how a person would react when grief strikes. I’m sure he’ll come to his senses and apologize.”

“Well, it’s not that.
That
I can understand. The thing is, after he was gone with the body, Nurse Sheila and I sat down to look through Natalie’s medical records and the kid was as fit as a fiddle from what Sheila could tell. The whole thing is a bit off. Why would he get so angry? I get his religious beliefs. With all due respect, mine are the same. Isn’t he
our
priest after all? I’ve never heard him say anything against autopsies in church.”