John let out a deep exhale. “Emily was right. We found the deed in her pocketbook. I had Danny look into the properties that Featherstone sold for her father. The house in question was listed as a separate sale years later.”

  “Do you think he murdered Emily?” I asked.

  “He had motive. He could be disbarred permanently for selling her property, claiming that he owned it. He could have followed Emily out of his office and shoved her down the stairs. I’m holding Wallace Featherstone for further questioning.”

  * * *

  I found two more wedding venue possibilities—both former homes and no more than a half-hour drive from the Clover Ridge Green. One had a lawn that sloped down to the Sound. Like Victor Zalinka’s, I thought. Now wouldn’t that make a beautiful wedding venue!

  At eleven o’clock I started making calls. All six places were booked every Saturday and Sunday well into next fall. I felt a pang of guilt for not having started our search months earlier. I knew how much time and effort had gone into Angela’s wedding plans. But planning ahead had never been my strong suit, and somehow something always seemed to require my immediate attention and took precedence over our wedding plans.

  I called Angela to grouse about my problem. After giving me a bawling out for not arranging this earlier, she said, “There’s the Lynley Country Club. It’s not too far from here. The clubhouse has been totally renovated, and I hear it’s to die for.”

  Die for? “All right. I’ll call them. Any more ideas?”

  Angela rattled off a few more names.

  “I’ll see if they have anything available on a spring or early summer weekend.”

  “Let me know as soon as you find a place you love. This is so exciting!”

  Of all the venues Angela had mentioned, only the Lynley Country Club had an opening on a Saturday evening in May. Yay! I asked if my fiancé and I could stop by this afternoon and was given a three-thirty appointment. That accomplished, I drove to the gym and worked out for an hour.

  Dylan arrived at the cottage at two thirty, exhilarated by what he’d learned and accomplished in Columbus. He unwrapped the Haggerty, and I finally got to see the painting that had caused such an upheaval in our lives. It was vivid, all right, with wild colors flying off in every direction. Not something I’d like to have adorning my living room. I supposed I didn’t understand modern art and preferred figures and images that I could discern.

  Dylan laughed when he saw my reaction. “I wasn’t crazy about it at first, but it’s growing on me,” he admitted.

  “Do you know what it’s worth?”

  “The agent I talked to the most said it would probably go for one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars at Sotheby’s.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Are you going to have it insured?”

  “Too expensive. Besides, I’m planning to donate it to a museum in the next few weeks.”

  I told him about our appointment at the Lynley Country Club.

  “Give me a few minutes to freshen up, and we’re off.”

  * * *

  The road leading to the clubhouse seemed to extend for miles. That was because it rambled along an eighteen-hole golf course. I gasped as we drove up to the clubhouse and parked in a visitor’s space. It was truly a two-story monolithic mansion, worthy of its four white pillars.

  Cassidy, a beautiful brunette dressed in black trousers, a white silk blouse, and red spike heels, was waiting for us in the large entrance room. She smiled as Dylan and I introduced ourselves. She asked us a few questions about dates and the number of guests we were planning to have.

  Number of guests? “We’re not sure,” I said.

  “I’d say one hundred. One hundred and twenty-five tops,” Dylan said. Clearly, he had been giving this more thought than I had.

  “We are fortunate to have two ballrooms. We reserve one for our members’ club activities and personal celebrations, and offer the other to the public for weddings and such.” Cassidy nodded to me. “As I mentioned to you on the phone, Carrie, there was a cancellation for the third Saturday night in May.”

  She led us to a double door that opened onto a ballroom. A wall of floor-to-ceiling glass looked out on what had to be a beautiful garden in spring and summer. Several chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and there was a good-sized dance floor.

  “We’re known for our cuisine,” Cassidy continued when she figured we were sufficiently impressed. “We have various plans for the cocktail hour, which, in good weather, can take place out in the garden. Regarding dinner, you may select three choices for your main course. And we offer several dessert options.”

  I nodded, feeling a bit dazed. All those options. So many decisions to make. Thank goodness Dylan was making appropriate comments and asking what sounded like intelligent questions. I felt like a kid who hadn’t studied for a test.

  At last, Cassidy escorted us to her office, a wood-paneled, beautifully appointed room with an oversized desk. She handed us a brochure listing appetizers and hot hors d’oeuvres, main courses, desserts, and liquor packages, and then began shooting questions. Again, how many guests? Did we have any special requests? Would we like to include baby lambchops? A sushi bar? A Viennese table? Because those were all extra, as were several other offerings. But not to worry, we had time to decide on those.

  I glanced at the extras listed in the brochure, then turned to the last page and nearly gasped. At the bottom of the page, in the tiniest print possible, it stated that the cost per person began at three hundred dollars!

  Now Cassidy was moving on to our band, our photographer, and our wedding video. Of course we had the option to use whomever we liked, but the Lynley had extensive experience dealing with the best in the business and was happy to offer recommendations. I was relieved that Dylan kept on conversing with Cassidy because I was too stunned to utter a word.

  Finally, he thanked her for showing us around and explaining our options. “Carrie and I will discuss everything and get back to you.”

  “Get back to me ASAP because this date won’t be available for long. Unless you’d like us to hold it for you for three days while you make up your minds. A check for three thousand dollars should do it.”

  Dylan smiled. “Thanks for informing us, but we’ll take our chances.”

  “That’s up to you, of course,” Cassidy said, her manner suddenly chilly.

  When we got outside, I drew in a breath of the refreshingly brisk November air. “So many decisions,” I murmured. “And so expensive.”

  “I figured a wedding here would cost anywhere between fifty and seventy-five thousand dollars.” Dylan didn’t sound concerned.

  “That much!” I felt foolish. “I should have realized before I made an appointment to come here.”

  Dylan put his arm around me. “The Lynley Country Club is classy. We’d have a beautiful wedding, but it’s the first place we’ve looked at. There are plenty of other places.”

  “Then there’s the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding and a brunch the morning after,” I said. “And my gown and flowers and all the rest.”

  Dylan ran his finger along my cheek. “Let’s not forget our honeymoon, the best part of it all.”

  “All so expensive,” I repeated.

  “We’ll think about it. Meanwhile, let’s stop in town and grab something to eat.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  We ended up going to Tea and Crumpets, a relatively new restaurant on the western side of the Green. Angela’s cousin Donna had treated me to lunch there in the spring, and I’d been meaning to go back there with Dylan. It wasn’t quite five o’clock, and the place wasn’t crowded. Their specialty was English bakery items made on the premises. I ordered a scone with clotted cream and blueberries. Dylan ordered an egg-salad sandwich. Since the place was known for its array of teas, we both decided to have tea instead of our usual coffee.

  After we settled into our cozy booth, I reached for Dylan’s hand.

  “You’re looking happier,” he said.

  “I’ve calmed down some. You know, we’ve never actually talked about money.”

  “Okay. Let’s talk.”

  “How much money do you make?”

  “Well, that depends. The money I earn from the agency varies from month to month, but I can count on enough for us to live on if you decide to stop working for a while.” He mentioned an amount that was a few times my salary. “And there’s the hefty insurance policy I received because of the accident resulting in my parents’ deaths.”

  “Which is why you feel comfortable considering the country club as the venue for our wedding?”

  “We can afford it, Carrie.”

  “I want to contribute toward our wedding too.” It came out more aggressively than I’d meant.

  “We can talk about pooling our money for some expenses. I also have investments I inherited from my parents. They suffered heavy losses before they died, but what remained is substantial. And there’s the Avery property.”

  I thought about the manor house and the cottage where we lived. The land alone was valuable. “Do you want to sell it?”

  “Maybe sometime in the future. Not right now.”

  “And we’d still have enough money to buy a house?”

  Dylan nodded. “Certainly enough for a substantial down payment and to comfortably furnish it and carry the mortgage. Do you have any debts you haven’t mentioned?”

  “No.”

  He grinned. “And you’re making a nice salary. So we’re set.”

  “I suppose.” I thought a bit. “Even if we put our money together, I’d still want to keep a bank account of my own.”

  “Of course. Anything else?”

  I drew a deep breath, wondering how Dylan was going to take what I was about to say. “The Lynley Country Club is beautiful, but regardless of the extras, it would be no different from every other wedding held there. Even though we can afford it, the place doesn’t feel right to me. For us,” I added quickly.

  Dylan smiled. It was the most beautiful smile, filled with love and acceptance. My heart leaped and did cartwheels in my chest. “In that case, we’ll look around some more.”

  Our waitress served us our food. “Let the tea steep a bit to get the full flavor,” she advised before she left. I set about covering my warm scone with clotted cream and blueberries. Dylan bit into his sandwich.

  “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. “Who would think a simple egg-salad sandwich could be so delicious?”

  I stopped what I was doing to beam at him.

  “What?” he asked through a mouth full of food.

  “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re home.”

  “Me too. Eat your scone before it gets cold.”

  We finished our repast, and Dylan paid the bill. As we were putting on our jackets and getting ready to leave, I caught sight of Leroy Gumm and a woman in a parka and a woolen cap, entering the restaurant. They were engaged in an animated conversation.

  “There’s Babette,” I said, then let out a gasp of surprise when Leroy’s companion pulled off her cap. “Not Babette. Martha’s daughter, Felicity.”

  The couple continued their discussion as the hostess led them to a booth on the other side of the restaurant.

  “Wait here,” I whispered to Dylan. “I’m going to try to find out what they’re talking about.”

  Dylan rolled his eyes, but he sat down again without protest. Though the restaurant was beginning to fill up, the booth behind them was empty. Do I dare scrunch down on the seat behind Leroy? Better not, I decided. How embarrassed I’d be if the hostess brought someone over to sit in the booth. Or if either Leroy or Felicity decided to go to the bathroom and happened to glance at the woman crouching under the table in the booth behind them.

  Felicity got up and headed for the bathroom. I waited a minute to give her enough time to enter a stall, then followed.

  Sure enough, the outer room was empty. I fished out my lipstick from my makeup pouch and began applying it over the coat I’d given my lips five minutes earlier. I heard the toilet being flushed, and eventually Felicity Sawyer appeared. I waited until she was washing her hands, then acted surprised to see her.

  “Hi, Felicity. I thought that was you.”

  She blinked as she tried to place me.

  “I’m Carrie Singleton. I stopped by your parents’ house the other day to offer my condolences, and I met you and Ron’s cousin.”

  I watched her expression change as recognition set in. “You work in the library, right? With Susan.”

  “Yes. We work together. How are you holding up?”

  Felicity sniffed. “As you’d expect. The wake is tomorrow, and the funeral’s the day after. I find it hard to believe my mother’s gone.”

  “Are you here with Ron?” I asked.

  “No. With a friend.”

  “I didn’t realize you had friends here in Clover Ridge.”

  “I did live here, you know.” She studied me. For a moment I feared I’d gone too far, but then she added, “He’s actually someone my mother knew. Leroy Gumm.”

  “Oh, Babette’s boyfriend. Leroy’s an artist. That’s probably why your mother knew him.”

  “Yes. Mom was thinking of doing an exhibit of his work.”

  “Are you planning to work at the Gallery on the Green?”

  Felicity shot me a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding? I write software programs. Why would you think I’d get involved with the gallery?”

  “I guess since you’re here with Leroy.”

  “He was very fond of my mother and insisted on spending time with me before I fly back to California.”

  “Oh!” I exclaimed, as though that explained everything. “Again, I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m planning on coming to the wake or the funeral, so I’ll see you then.”

  Felicity placed a hand on my arm. “Thank you, Carrie. I appreciate your caring.”

  * * *

  “Every word she said was a lie,” I said as soon as Dylan and I exited Tea and Crumpets. “Susan once told me that Martha thought Leroy had the artistic ability of a six-year-old.”

  “In that case, you’ve learned a good deal.”

  “Really? What have I learned?” I demanded.

  “That she’s hiding something.” Dylan clicked his key fob, and we stepped inside the BMW. “What do you think Martha’s daughter is hiding?”

  “Her relationship with Leroy,” I said, “but I don’t know much more than that. I doubt that he and Martha had a friendly relationship, given what she thought of his lack of talent. Besides, Leroy seemed to have struck up a friendship with Ron, not Martha.”

  “What else?” Dylan asked as he put the car into gear and we set out for home.

  “It’s not a romantic relationship. Felicity didn’t even blink when I said that Leroy was Babette’s boyfriend.”

  “Okay.”

  “But they were deep in conversation when they came into the restaurant. It wasn’t hostile.” I paused to think. “More like they were finding out about each other.”

  “Business, maybe?”

  “I doubt it. Felicity was adamant about not getting involved in the gallery. She said she writes software programs. I can’t see what that has to do with Leroy. From what I can tell, he wants to build a career as an artist.”

  “You can always research Felicity,” Dylan said. He grinned. “I’ll lend you Rosalind if you want to do a deep dive into her life.”

  “Thank you, my love.” I leaned over to kiss his cheek. Rosalind Feratti, Dylan’s amazing office manager, had uncovered some well-hidden secrets that had helped me solve a few homicides in the past. “I may call in that favor. But first I’ll see what I can find out about her on social media.”

  “Are you planning to go to Martha’s funeral?” Dylan asked.

  “I think I’ll stop in at the wake tomorrow evening,” I said, remembering other wakes that had provided me with unexpected information. “Maybe I’ll be lucky and solve a few mysteries while I pay my respects.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I’d no sooner entered my office Monday morning when Evelyn appeared. I was glad to see her because I was hoping she could answer some of my questions. While I had no way of contacting Evelyn and never knew when she would show up, somehow she always seemed to sense when I had need of her help.

  “Was Dylan’s trip to Ohio a success?” she asked as she propped herself against the corner of my assistants’ desk.

  “Sure was. He got the painting back and helped the Feds in their investigation of a fraudulent art ring.”

  Evelyn eyes sparkled with glee. “Anything else happen over the weekend?

  What does she know? “We starting looking at wedding venues. I’ve decided I don’t want a formal setting for our wedding. Dylan’s fine with that. Now to find something a bit different that’s both pretty and cozy.”

  “You and Dylan are very well suited to each other. I know you’ll settle on the perfect site for your wedding.”

  “Thank you, Evelyn. I appreciate your confidence that we’ll find exactly what we want.”

  As I took in Evelyn’s expression of pleasure, I remembered her telling me that she remained on this plane to look after the people who lived here and came to visit Clover Ridge. Did that mean she was Dylan’s and my guardian angel? Or was she encouraging me to remain in a good relationship with Dylan so we could add to the general well-being of the town? I was already on the town council, if only for another year, and I had no doubt that in time Dylan would take on his own local responsibilities. Our roots were in Clover Ridge, and we both wanted to see it grow and thrive as a community.

  But now I had more pressing questions. “As we were about to leave Tea and Crumpets yesterday, in walked Leroy Gumm and Martha’s daughter, Felicity. What do you know about them?” I asked.

  Evelyn pressed her lips together as though wondering how much to tell me. Finally she said, “Well, for one thing, they’re cousins.”