Going to the Chapel: A Novella (8 page)

Levi made a low sound in his throat. “He’s sleeping with them?”

“None of them admitted it, but I wouldn’t be surprised. They seemed quite infatuated with him.”

So Ray was the cheater, not Izzy. No wonder she’d left him.

“There’s more,” Elsa said. “One of the women commented that he’d saved her financially. Something about an investment he handled for her husband before he died. That investment was going to keep her comfortable for the rest of her life.”

Levi silently cursed. “He’s swindling them with some phony deal.” And Izzy had taken some of that dirty money when she’d left.

Did she know what he was up to? Was she an accomplice or a victim of Ray’s scheme?

“I’m trying to find out specifics,” Elsa said. “I’ll keep you posted. What about the wife?”

She was definitely a sex siren. But Elsa didn’t need to hear that his libido was acting up again. She’d warned him about Tammy and he hadn’t listened—a lesson he’d never forget.

He’d been so caught up in believing the web of lies Tammy had spun—that her ex was using her, that he hadn’t realized she was helping the man sell drugs to children.

Elsa had caught on to her, but Tammy had drugged Elsa and nearly killed her. Sure, he’d rescued Elsa at the end and arrested Tammy and her ex, but Elsa had suffered. He had no idea why she was still speaking to him.

“Levi?”

Her voice drew him back to reality. She had survived, and so had he. But not without scars. “I’m working undercover, so it may take time.”

“What kind of cover?” Elsa asked.

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers as he explained about Izzy’s wedding business and the legend of the chapel.

Elsa’s mocking laughter echoed back. “You’re playing the doting fiancé? Oh, my God. I wish I was there to see that.”

“It’s not funny, Elsa. I’d rather face down a serial killer than set foot in that chapel again.”

Another laugh. “So who are you supposed to be marrying, Levi?”

A tense second passed as he braced himself. “You.”

“Me?”

“Your name was the first one I thought of. Besides, it’s not like you two will ever meet. I told her you had an accident and were recovering, so that’s the reason I was planning the wedding.”

“I see.” Elsa’s voice held a note of wariness this time. “You’re pretty bad off if the best you can do for a fiancée is your married partner with three kids.”

“I was desperate,” Levi stammered.

“Obviously so.” Elsa sighed. “So what does that tell you about your life, Levi? That maybe you need to get one?”

“It tells me I need to get back to my detective job. And the only way I can do that is to catch Izzy Sassafras and Ray LaPone and put them behind bars.”

Aunt Dottie greeted Izzy as soon as she stepped back into the shop, her eyes gleaming. “Do we really have our first client?”

Daisy stood at the coffee counter while Caroline stopped arranging a display of sample invitations on a white lace–covered table. One of them had brought the kitten to the shop, and it was so still it looked like a stuffed animal on the pillow in the corner chair.

Wicked little thing. It had kept Izzy awake half the night wanting to play.

“Izzy, don’t keep us in suspense,” Aunt Dottie said.

“Yes, we have a client,” Izzy said, her pulse racing. “His name is Levi Fox, and he and his fiancée want a Christmas wedding.”

Aunt Dottie fluttered a hand over her cheek. “Oh, that’s wonderful. That’s when Harry and I got married, too.”

“Did you get a retainer?” Caroline asked.

Izzy winced, feeling chided. “No, not yet. But he’s coming back tomorrow for a tasting.” She turned to Daisy. “Can you compile some menus for him to look at, and maybe make some samples?”

Daisy rubbed her hands over her apron, hesitant. “I was planning to leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, Daisy.” Aunt Dottie‘s tone held a silent plea. “Everyone is town is excited about the coffee/dessert bar.”

“Then one of them can run it,” Daisy said, slightly annoyed.

Aunt Dottie propped her crutch against the wall. “But you’re such a wonderful cook. Just think—if you move back to Matrimony, you could have your own catering business.”

Daisy used a cloth to wipe the counter. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.” At her aunt’s crestfallen face, Daisy added, “But I’ll make the samples before I leave.”

“Thank you, Daisy,” Izzy said. “I appreciate your help.”

Daisy’s gaze met hers, and Izzy wondered if her sister had accepted the olive branch she’d just extended. It was killing her to know that Daisy and Caroline still despised her.

Aunt Dottie adjusted her hat. “So tell us about this couple, Izzy. What are they like? Where are they from?”

Levi’s face flashed in Izzy’s mind, her heart stuttering. “He’s totally in love with his fiancée.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Aunt Dottie said. “That is, unless
you
like him.”

Izzy’s cheeks flooded with heat. She shouldn’t have confided to her aunt that her marriage had fallen apart. She might let it slip to her sisters. “No, of course not. We just met.”

“And you are a married woman,” Caroline pointed out.

Izzy bit her lip at the censure in Caroline’s tone. Technically she was. “Yes, I am. And this client is important. If this wedding is a success, we can use it for advertising to entice more customers.”

Caroline fiddled with one of the silver bells on the table. “Christmas is only a few days away. You can’t possibly pull off a wedding in that short amount of time.”

Izzy shrugged. Caroline had no faith in her.

“It will be difficult but . . . maybe we could do it together. Before you and Daisy leave. For Aunt Dottie, of course.”

Aunt Dottie clapped her hands. “That’s a fantastic idea.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes at Izzy, as if to say she knew she’d been railroaded. Saying no to their aunt was impossible.

All the more reason Izzy had to make this work. “Levi said the wedding party might stay at the B and B. We need to make sure the rooms are in order.”

“Caroline, can you coordinate things with Myrtle at the B and B?” Aunt Dottie asked. “The sewing circle and quilting bee are already working on the bedding and furniture.”

“All right,” Caroline said reluctantly. “But I have to get home before Christmas, so I won’t be here for the ceremony.”

A hole opened in Izzy’s chest. She hated for her sisters to leave without them patching things up.

Daisy cleared her throat. “Photograph the house and rooms so I can add the photos to the website. I’ll also send out a press release to the local paper announcing One Stop Weddings and featuring Matrimony as a romantic mountain getaway.”

“You’re not sending it to Nosy Nellie,” Izzy said.

Daisy frowned. “Of course not, although maybe we should. Everyone reads her column. And Uner Pinkerton can spread news faster than Twitter.”

Izzy laughed, and Daisy continued, “I’ll also send a release to Atlanta and Chattanooga. You might draw customers from there.”

Izzy nodded. She did want to grow the business, although she didn’t want her name in the paper where Ray might see it.

Then again, he lived halfway across the country. No way would their small-town wedding business reach Texas.

Ray tried that damn PI for the dozenth time. Where the hell was he? And why hadn’t he found Izzy by now?

A pounding on his door started, and he ducked behind the window and peeked out. Dammit. His left eye twitched. And a sharp cramp seized his stomach. Stupid nerves always gave him the runs.

Everything was out of control now.

Some cop had shown up at the country club asking questions, and one of the widow women, that tight-ass Beatrice Puckett, had grown suspicious about what he was doing. Now three others had called and one was at the door, looking like she was going to bash his head in with her silver-studded cane.

He had to find Izzy and get that money back. It was his ticket out of Texas and the trouble he was in.

Izzy knew she was eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it. She heard her aunt whispering to Uncle Harry on the phone, and curiosity got the better of her.

“I know Izzy’s in trouble,” Aunt Dottie said. “But Daisy and Caroline have their own problems.” Her aunt sighed at something her husband said. “I’m just tired of being the keeper of the family secrets. I’ve got to get these girls to make up and trust one another.”

Izzy held her breath as she heard her aunt pacing, the crutch clacking. But when she peeked through the door crack, her aunt wasn’t leaning on the thing. She was swinging it back and forth as she paced as if clearing a path in front of her. “This business had better work,” Aunt Dottie said. “I don’t know if I can live through another embarrassment.”

Shame burned Izzy’s face. Her aunt would not be humiliated by her again. She wouldn’t let it happen.

“Yes, maybe Caroline will eventually tell them, but it’s not my place.”

Tell them what?

Footsteps clattered from the hallway, and she heard Daisy humming “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” as she started work in the kitchen.

Izzy jumped back from the door and hurried out the back. But as she drove to the B and B to meet Caroline, questions nagged at her.

What secrets was Aunt Dottie keeping? And what did her aunt want Caroline to tell them?

Caroline met her at the door to the B and B, and Izzy itched to ask her. But the closed expression on her sister’s face warned her that she was here for a business meeting, not to share personal stories.

How could she blame Caroline for hating her, though?

Izzy followed Caroline through the B and B, impressed with the metamorphosis from outdated decor to rooms boasting southern charm and style.

“Aunt Dottie wanted me to show you what the group has done so far with the inn,” Caroline said stiffly.

“You think it’ll be ready for Elsa and Levi’s wedding?”

“It’s come a long way,” Caroline said. “The women in town have been working like crazy. They’ve really pulled together on this.”

Like Izzy wished she and her sisters could do.

“I used the more masculine patterns and colors in rooms catering to the men in the wedding party or male guests,” Caroline said as she gave her the tour. “When we—I mean you and Aunt Dottie—aren’t hosting a wedding, Myrtle can rent to visitors who want a retreat in the mountains. Or people who want to visit for a consultation.”

The scent of fresh paint mingled with the potpourri Caroline had set out in crystal dishes throughout the inn. “Good idea,” Izzy agreed.

Caroline led her into another room. “I put a Dresden plate quilt in this room and a log-cabin quilt in the room next door. The quilting bee donated the Northern Star, Double Hearts, and Shoo Fly.”

Caroline traced a finger over one of the Dresden squares. “They asked if they could hang a few for sale in the shop or here at the inn.”

Izzy considered the idea. “Sure. They would make a nice addition to the gift corner.”

She followed Caroline up the winding staircase to the third floor. “I chose this room as the honeymoon suite,” Caroline said. “It has a private balcony that overlooks the pond out back.”

Izzy admired the antique lace canopy on the four-poster bed and the wedding-ring quilt in ivory and pale blues on the bed. An antique armoire, dressing table complete with a lace skirt, and adjoining bathroom with the claw-foot tub looked elegant, but gave the feel of stepping back in time. Lace curtains, an antique washstand, and plush towels completed the look. “It is a beautiful view. And the quilt is stunning.”

“It actually belonged to one of the women who owns the fabric store.”

Izzy nodded. Too bad she was advertising fairy-tale weddings, promising a lifetime when that kind of magic didn’t exist.

Still . . . Levi and Elsa seemed happy and might prove her wrong.

A seed of jealousy struck her, but she pushed it aside. She would never trust another man, much less marry one. And she’d cried enough tears over the last year to last a lifetime.

All the more reason she needed to make this business work.

Becoming financially stable would give her the freedom and independence she needed to divorce Ray.