Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Southern Sewing Circle 10 - Wedding Duress (19 page)

“What’s with the gasping, Leona?”

Leona bobbed her head left and right as she studied something pertaining to the newspaper and Tori’s left hand.

“Leona? What’s wrong?”

“Take off your engagement ring, dear,” Leona finally said. “And let me see it for a moment.”

“Um, why?”

Leona pinned her with a death stare. “Please, Victoria. Just let me see your ring.”

“The ring thing is a game for a
baby
shower, Leona,” Charles interjected as he set Leona’s requested glass of water on the end table beside her chair. “Not a wedding shower.”

Still, Tori did as she was told and handed her ring to Leona, who, in turn, took off one of her own. Holding them side by side, Leona breathed on both rings and then studied them closely. Within seconds, she handed Tori’s back.

“Your diamond is a fake, Victoria.”

This time, the gasp didn’t come from Leona. Instead, it came from Tori’s own mouth and was echoed by the eight now flanking her from both sides.

“You take that back, Twin!” Margaret Louise bellowed. “You take that back right now.”

“I can’t,” Leona said. “Because it’s true.”

Georgina’s finger shot its way through the gap between
Tori and Charles and stopped just short of Leona’s chin. “Why must you always insist on stomping all over everyone’s feelings?”

“What has Milo ever done to you to make you try to smear his reputation like this on today of all days?” Dixie placed her hands on her hips and added her long-groomed librarian death stare for good measure. “It’s—it’s
unconscionable
!”

Leona stomped her foot on the ground and then doubled over in pain.

“Don’t you try to weasel out of this by playin’ on our sympathy,” Margaret Louise accused. “’Cause it ain’t gonna work.”

Inhaling sharply, Leona slowly lifted her head until her eyes were on no one else but Tori. “Do you think I want to be the one to tell you something like this? You know how important you are to me and how fond I am of Milo. I don’t understand why he’d skimp on something so important, but maybe he just couldn’t handle something real on an elementary school teacher’s salary.”

Tori looked down at the ring and recalled the moment he slipped it on her finger in front of her friends. No, Leona was wrong. Milo had scrimped and saved for her ring—her
real
ring. “I’m sorry, Leona, but you are mistaken. Milo has the papers on the ring in his safe, I’ve seen them with my own two eyes.”

“Then they’re a lie.”

“Stop it, Leona,” Rose hissed. “Stop it right now. I understand that weddings are difficult for you, but this is Victoria we’re talking about. I can’t and won’t save you if you keep going down this road.”

“There are several ways one can spot a fake diamond.
Victoria’s diamond failed both tests.” Leona slipped her own ring back on her finger and helped herself to a sip of her water. “The first test happened rather inadvertently when Victoria was trying to straighten the wrinkles out of my crossword page.”

“What are you cacklin’ ’bout, Twin?”

“When you put a real diamond—such as mine—over top of a newspaper, you can’t read the print through the gem. But with a fake diamond, you can.”

Gentle thumping to Tori’s left broke through the white noise in her head and she turned in time to see Beatrice, Melissa, and Debbie quietly gathering her assorted presents into piles. Beyond them, Georgina and Dixie had extricated themselves from the spectacle that was Leona and were busying themselves with the task of collecting used plates, napkins, and cups.

“You know, I sort of remember reading something like that once,” Charles whispered, bringing Tori’s attention back to the always stylish woman seated in front of her.

“The second test is the one I just did with our rings side by side.” Leona kneaded at the skin above her eyes once more, her voice reflecting none of the joy the other sewing circle members had accused her of having over her trumped-up revelation. “I breathed on each stone and watched to see how long it took for my breath to evaporate on each one. Genuine diamonds, such as mine, repel water vapor considerably faster than fake gemstones such as yours, Victoria.”

Dixie slipped a protective arm around Tori and gently tugged her backward. “Let’s go, Victoria. You deserve better than this on your special day. Melissa and Debbie
are bringing your presents out to the car now and Margaret Louise will bring you home.”

Slowly, Tori fell into step with the group as they made their way down the hallway and toward the door, her feet only slowing as Margaret Louise came to a stop. Turning back toward her sister, the normally happy-go-lucky grandmother of eight shook her finger in disgust. “Leona Elkin, I am ashamed to call you my sister.”

It didn’t matter how busy she tried to keep herself around the library, Tori simply couldn’t keep her mind from straying back to the exact moment Leona had pulled the rug out from under her feet.

In the grand scheme of things, she wasn’t a materialistic person. She didn’t need a mansion, an expensive car, name brand clothes, or designer purses to make her happy. As long as her life was rich with love and friendship, she was a lucky girl.

Yet even knowing that, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sadness that had settled around her heart the moment she’d walked out of Leona’s house the previous night and headed toward Margaret Louise’s car.

Yes, her friends had rallied around her, encouraging her to chalk Leona’s assertions up to good old-fashioned jealousy. Yes, they’d successfully pointed out similar
things Leona had done to all of them at one point or another. But none of it had been able to wipe away the woman’s words or the genuine sincerity with which they’d been said.

Leona may have had a history of lashing out at people in successful relationships and creating issues to keep others from getting involved at all, but deep down inside, Tori knew that wasn’t the case this time.

She could feel in it her bones—bones that had kept her awake for more than half the night, and tossing and turning throughout the rest.

It wasn’t that she doubted Milo or his feelings for her, because she didn’t. In fact, her bones were just as certain Milo didn’t know the diamond was fake as they were that Leona was right.

The problem she was struggling with, though, was how and when to tell her fiancé he’d been swindled. Did she tell him before the wedding and risk ruining the anticipation he wore so endearingly well? Or did she wait until after the wedding and chance him being angry with her for keeping it a secret?

“I can see it in your eyes from all the way over here.”

Tori dropped the book she was holding onto the counter and turned toward the front door to find Rose standing there, staring at her with a mix of disapproval and pity. “Oh, Rose. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s because you’re still listening to Leona in your head.” Rose shuffled over to the information desk and set her purse on top. “I figured you would be, so I asked my neighbor’s son to drive me here so we could talk. Is Nina here to watch the floor?”

“No. Nina has the day off.”

Rose shuffled to the end of the desk to afford a better view of the computer terminals and the line of shelves beyond. Then, doubling back to her starting point, she scanned the various reading chairs and worktables scattered around. “Doesn’t anybody spend time in a library anymore?”

“An hour ago, I was inundated with toddlers. And in about two hours, I’ll have the high school kids coming through with whatever project they’re working on. But right now, I’ve got a lull.” Tori stretched her arms above her head and then yawned. “I won’t complain, though, because I’m a little tired after my shower last night.”

“Did you have fun?”

She pushed Leona’s voice from her head long enough to allow some of the other memories from the previous night a chance to shine. “Oh, Rose, not only was it a fun surprise all on its own, but getting to have Charles there for it, and playing all those fun games, just made it all the more special.”

“I’m glad. I only wish Leona had kept her comments to herself for a little while.” Rose let go of the counter and made a beeline for the closest table and chair combination. When she reached her destination, she slowly lowered herself onto one of the chairs and gestured toward the other for Tori. “Come. Sit.”

She joined Rose at the table as the woman’s words took root. “You’re no longer saying Leona was being mean-spirited.”

“Her timing left much to be desired, but I think she simply reacted in the moment.” Rose leaned forward and covered Tori’s hand with her own. “Anyone with two eyes knows Leona is quite fond of you.”

Looking down at her free hand, she moved the underside of her ring with her thumb and tried not to let her sadness seep into her words. “So you think Leona is right? You think my diamond is fake?”

“If it failed both those tests Leona did last night, then yes, I do. But the only way you can be certain is to let Milo take it back to wherever he bought it.”

She knew Rose was right. But she also knew how heartbroken Milo would be to learn the truth. He’d been so incredibly proud of his selection and so eager to slip it onto her finger the moment she accepted his proposal.

“Do you know where he bought it?” Rose asked.

Without taking her eyes off the ring, she shared what she knew. “Brady’s Jewelry in town.”

“That’s good. Jim is a local boy and he’ll make things right, I’m sure.”

When Tori didn’t reply, Rose squeezed her hand tightly. “What’s wrong, Victoria? Surely you don’t believe Milo intentionally tried to fool you . . .”

“No, of course not.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know how, or even
when
to tell him it’s fake,” she whispered. “He’s going to be crushed.”

“And you’re probably right. But I’m willing to bet he’d be even more crushed if you didn’t tell him.” Rose released her grip enough to give Tori a gentle pat before pulling her hand away completely. “The sooner you get it out in the open, the sooner it can be fixed.”

“But our wedding is four days away, Rose. Is it really fair to drop this on him now?” She looked again at the ring and then left her chair in favor of a little good old-fashioned pacing. “And then there’s Jim Brady to think
of, too. I mean, a woman just fell to her death in his home a little over a week ago, and if that’s not bad enough, I suspect a few of the people that were in his home at the time of the incident are about to be part of a murder investigation.”

Rose’s hand flew to her mouth as her eyes slipped closed behind her bifocals. “Another murder?”

Tori stopped pacing to return to the elderly woman’s side. “Near as I can figure, Miss Gracie’s hiring was seen as a threat to some of the other nannies. Beatrice is amazing, and her friend, Miss Gracie, was poised to be every bit as good. If even a few of the other nanny-utilizing families in town took notice, girls like Amanda Willey and Stacy Gardner might very well have been out of work.”

“So they do something else,” Rose groused. “They could wait tables at the diner, or deliver pizza at the pizza shop, or even polish antiques at Leona’s place. Money is money and work is work.”

“I know that, and you know that, but for some of these girls—Amanda and Cynthia in particular—being a nanny for families like the Whitehalls and the Bradys exposed them to a world and a way of living they’ve never seen or known before.”

“That’s not a reason to kill someone!”

“I’m not saying they have, Rose. I’m just saying there’s a chance. A good chance unfortunately.” By force of habit, Tori scanned all visible bookshelves in their immediate vicinity and noted three books that were out of place—one in self-help, one in mysteries, and one in general fiction. She crossed to the self-help aisle and returned the abandoned book to its correct location. Then, moving on to
general fiction, she plucked the misplaced title from its precarious position on the edge of the shelf and carried it to its proper spot at the end of the aisle, her thoughts ricocheting between her ring, telling Milo, and Miss Gracie. “So needless to say, I’m a little wary about being the person who deals yet another blow to the Brady family.”

“That’s assuming Jim doesn’t already know the ring is fake.”

Tori stopped halfway down the mystery aisle and turned to face Rose. “You think Jim
knows
my diamond is fake?”

Rose’s frail shoulders hiked upward beneath her cotton sweater. “He’s a jeweler. It’s his job to know what he’s buying and what he’s selling.”

*   *   *

She was aware of Charles moving around her office, rearranging her stapler, Nina’s pictures, and even the sugar packets on the beverage cart, but every time she decided to say something, a completely unrelated thought would swoop in and take precedence.

It wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, especially when those unrelated-to-Charles thoughts were slowly proving themselves related in another way. She ran the tip of her pen down the notepad and made a mental note of the people on her list she most needed to talk to on her way home from work.

Cynthia Marland.

Reenie Brady.

Amanda Willey.

How, exactly, she was going to find them and talk to them, though, was the real question . . .

“Charles?”

He stopped fussing with the bowl of creamers and stirrers and turned, hands on hips. “Yes, Victoria?”

“It’s time to step up the investigation. I want this figured out once and for all before I walk down that aisle on Saturday morning.”

“Oooh, I love it when you talk dirty like that!” Charles sashayed his way over to Tori’s desk and sat on the folding chair, legs crossed. “Tell me what to do.”

She spun the notepad around and pushed it across the desk to Charles. “I want you to call Beatrice and ask her to find a way to get the Brady kids to the park sometime in the next hour.”

“Okay,” he said, looking from Tori to the list and back again, “but can I ask why?”

“Between the two older girls, we should be able to find out the name of every nanny that was in their house the night Miss Gracie was pushed.” She pointed her pen at Charles. “You do have Beatrice’s cell phone number, don’t you?”

“Of course. Who do you think I call every time I read something about Kenny Rogers?” He stood, pulled his flip phone from the front pocket of his lavender-colored jeans, and sat back down, waving the antiquated contraption in the air as he did.

“After the park, we’ll swing by Cynthia Marland’s house.”

“I thought she was off your radar.”

“She is . . . sorta. But I can’t shake the fact that I caught her sneaking out of the Bradys’ home three days after Miss Gracie’s accident. There had to be a reason she was there and didn’t want anyone to know.”

Charles pointed at the last name on the list. “And Amanda?”

She returned her pen to the wooden holder Charles had moved to the far side of her desk and then pulled her own cell phone from its holding spot inside her top drawer. “Amanda is last on the list because I think that’s where we’re going to end up when this is all said and done.”

“End up?”

“With Sweet Briar Police Chief Robert Dallas in tow.” She scrolled through her contact list until she got to the first name under
M
. “While you’re calling Beatrice, I’m going to get in touch with Margaret Louise and fill her in on what we’re doing and the order in which we’re doing it. She’d be fit to be tied if we wrapped this thing up without her involvement.”

Pausing his finger on the keypad of his phone, Charles leaned forward, looked around the empty after-hours office, and decreased his volume to a whisper. “Um, Victoria?”

“Yes?”

“Um, I’m all for playing detective with Margaret Louise but, um . . .”

She moved her pen in a rolling motion as she looked again at the clock. “Spit it out, Charles.”

“Could
you
drive?
Please?
”