“That’ll be good. Let me know if I can help with the software.” It wasn’t the most glamorous side of event planning, but it’s what Cassidy knew she was good at.

  “Roxie’s going to take a crack at it. I’m sure she’ll call you if she can’t get the thing to work. It looks like Pinterest, so it shouldn’t be that hard. For now, I’m going to focus on the swatch books.” Kate slid them into her beach bag. “Time to head out. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else. The gals and I will be in tomorrow, and we’re planning to go to the show.” She gave Cassidy a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’ll get solved, and things will get back to normal, boring, everyday pretty quickly. But think of the stories we’ll be able to tell.”

  THURSDAY MORNING

  With a steaming cup of tea and a bagel slathered in peanut butter, Cassidy settled in the office. After riffling around her desk drawer, she found the elusive bottle of aspirin and promptly popped two in her mouth. “Elvis, these late nights remind me of college. In fact, I haven’t done this much research since those days. I feel like there is something I’m missing. I have all kinds of notes and disparate facts. But there are still too many missing pieces. Too many unanswered questions.” Maybe I’m kidding myself that I may be able to figure this out. As a kid, she was good at puzzles, and had always wanted to be either Nancy Drew or Batgirl.

  She opened her notes and entered what she found on the gossip websites. “Well, pup, I know more about the personal lives of the Weathermen than I could have ever dreamed of. It’s interesting to read the articles from the early days.” Their images were carefully managed, and they were all portrayed in the best light—even Eddie Merritt’s death and Phillip Peters’s drug arrest and addiction were downplayed. When the seventies and eighties came along the Weathermen seemed to do their best to show they were bad boys of rock and roll. The epic stories and scandals were everywhere. Cassidy thought they must have gotten rid of the publicist. Drugs, women, and wild parties seemed to be common denominators. There had been no attempt to keep them squeaky-clean in the media. It was almost like they were trying to one-up each other with the next scandal.

  Elvis stuck his nose in the air and pranced off to find a napping place. Obviously, he doesn’t care about the band’s wild ways or my research.

  “I found some stuff on money woes and lawsuits. Maybe these little tidbits will fall into place and create a bigger picture with some answers if I keep searching.” Cassidy clicked on a link leading to the band’s catalog of songs. “Hmmm. I didn’t know a BJ Taylor wrote a lot of the lyrics. That’s odd. Who is this person? I thought I read earlier where Johnny wrote most of their stuff.” She searched through her notes but couldn’t find a confirmation to validate it.

  Her curiosity piqued, Cassidy spent the next hour searching for BJ Taylor online. Lots of B. Taylors, but she didn’t find anyone famous or in the music industry. And none of the names in the search results were for songwriters, singers, or music producers.

  Pulling up three different streaming sites, she checked for songs by the Weathermen. All three showed BJ Taylor’s name. “Okay, who are you? And does it even matter?”

  Still not interested in her searches for this BJ person, Elvis danced at the back door.

  “Okay, okay. You’re right. It’s a good time for a break,” Cassidy said. “Let’s see what’s happening around here. The gals should be in shortly. Tonight’s concert night. There’s a funkadelic seventies band and a B-52s cover band on tap tonight. Sounds like fun, right?”

  Elvis dashed outside and bolted to the garden as soon as she opened the door. Cassidy stood near the small pergola with the mountain view. The flowers and spectacular vista made this place magical. The upcoming wedding would be beautiful with the bluish-green backdrop of the valley, the mountains in the distance, and all of Levi’s carefully tended flowers. Fairy lights would make the whole event even more ethereal. She made a mental note to check on the cost of the strands. Twinkles would add some pizzazz. The little white lights changed the whole ambience of the barn. It was now perfect for indoor weddings. Why not add some to the garden?

  Her phone vibrated, echoing in the stillness of the grotto. Despite not recognizing the number, she clicked to accept the call. “Good morning. This is Cassidy at Celebrations at Ivy Springs.”

  “Good morning, Cassidy.” The voice was faint, but recognizable.

  “Ruthanne. Is that you? Where are you? Is everything okay?” Concern made Cassidy’s voice rise several octaves.

  “I’m fine. We’re all fine. We’re tired. Can you come and pick us up? We need a ride.”

  “Sure. Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t sound like your bubbly self.”

  “Fit as a fiddle. We’re at 101 N. Main Street in Harrisonburg. Could you get us as soon as you can?” Ruthanne whispered.

  “No problem. You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

  “It’s as good as can be. We’re not in any danger. We’ll explain everything when you get here. It’s been a long night, and we’re all tired. Thanks, Cassidy. See you in a bit.”

  “I’m headed your way now.” Cassidy hurried Elvis toward the office. “Come on, boy. I need to retrieve the gals from Harrisonburg. You guard the place, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. I have no idea why they spent the night in Harrisonburg, but I’m looking forward to their tale. With them, it’s always an interesting story.”

  After typing in the address in her GPS, she pulled out her sunglasses. “I’ll find out why the Pearly Girls are hanging out in Harrisonburg. Here’s to an unexpected road trip.”

  The normal ninety-minute trip was closer to two hours after hitting traffic on I-81 and two stops—one for gas and another for an iced coffee. Cassidy finally pulled into downtown Harrisonburg and navigated the streets around James Madison University.

  The GPS announced, “You have arrived at your destination.” Cassidy looked up and down the street. No sign of the Pearly Girls.

  She scanned the sidewalks at the nearby government buildings and the shops across the street. According to the matching address, the gals were either visiting the fire museum or the city’s public safety building.

  The coffee she’d had on the road turned sour in the bottom of her stomach. Knowing the gals, they weren’t learning about the history of fire safety.

  After a five-minute search for visitor parking, she flipped her purse strap over her shoulder and hurried to the main door of the public safety building to stand in a short line queued in front of the glass window. When it was her turn, she told the deputy with powdered sugar on the front of his uniform that she was there to pick up Ruthanne Carmichael.

  A slight smile crossed the deputy’s face. “She and her friends are down there. They’ve been waiting for you. And they’ll be happy to see you.” He pointed to the hallway to Cassidy’s left.

  Nodding her thanks, Cassidy headed in the direction he pointed. Her sneakers squeaked on the industrial floor. The more quietly she tried to walk, the louder the squeaks got. To Cassidy it sounded as loud as a basketball game on a gym floor. Shrugging off the concern that she was making too much noise, she hurried to find the gals.

  She heard the chatter before she rounded the corner. The four Pearly Girls sat in a waiting area with several vending machines and an oversized coffee maker. The normally put-together women were rumpled and appeared worse for wear. Tendrils of Ruthanne’s hair had escaped her ponytail. Aileen looked like she hadn’t slept in days. No one had touched up their usually impeccable makeup.

  “What happened?” Cassidy rushed toward them.

  “We’re glad to see you.” Kate jumped up to hug Cassidy.

  The four surrounded her for a group hug, and all of the sexagenarians greeted her at once.

  When they stopped squeezing her, she stared at the disheveled group. “What’s going on?”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Roxie linked her arm with Cassidy’s and started walking. “We’ll tell you in the car. That is, after we stop for breakfast. The service in this place stinks.”

  “They don’t have room service,” Kate glared at her friend, but with a half grin as the tiny band tromped down the hall. None of the gals ever stayed angry or frustrated with each other for longer than a minute.

  “That deputy made it a point to tell us that,” Ruthanne said. “He was nice about it, but he reminded all of us it was called jail for a reason.”

  Roxie rolled her eyes. “I’m hungry and a little bit cranky. So, breakfast and lots of coffee are first on my list. Then we can share details.”

  “Bye, Roscoe.” Ruthanne waved to the deputy behind the glass window.

  “Bye, Ruthanne. Bye, ladies. It was nice to meet you. I’ll make sure to check out your place the next time I’m in Ivy Springs.” He grinned. The gals must have regaled him with stories to stay on his good side.

  “Come on.” Roxie nudged Ruthanne. “I’ve had enough of this place for a while. This was not one of our finest moments.”

  It took a few minutes for the Pearly Girls to get settled in the van. As the others piled in the back, Kate reluctantly took the front seat next to Cassidy, making a point of staring out the side window. The silence was deafening. No one made eye contact with Cassidy’s glare in the rearview mirror. And no one was talking.

  “There’s a coffee shop,” Roxie yelled. “Up there on the left. Get over. This is an emergency.”

  Cassidy switched lanes and found parking on a side street. The Pearly Girls hopped out of the van before she could ask any questions.

  How in the world did they get to Harrisonburg with no car? Steeling herself for an epic tale, Cassidy ordered a giant iced mocha and a piece of banana bread.

  The little group huddled at a metal table on the patio with their orders.

  “What a beautiful day this turned out to be.” Ruthanne stirred sweetener in her dark coffee.

  “Always Pollyanna.” Roxie took a swig of her chai. “In hindsight, this might not have been our best idea.”

  Kate harrumphed her disapproval, then blew on the steam rising from her coffee cup. “Well, you weren’t complaining when the opportunity presented itself.”

  “We were trying to be helpful,” Ruthanne added after brushing blueberry scone crumbs from her lips.

  Aileen nodded. “And if I remember correctly, Roxie, you figured out how to get in. And that caused all of this. We probably should have gone home instead of breaking and entering.”

  Cassidy nearly spit out her iced coffee. Breaking and entering?

  “There was no breaking. Just entering. I can’t help it if they don’t lock their windows.” Roxie shrugged.

  Feeling left out and more than a little confused, Cassidy interrupted. “Okay, spill it. I drove two hours to get you all after staying up all night doing research. And we have another long ride back home. Y’all are being super vague, and I have no idea what you’re talking about. So, tell me what’s going on.”

  “Okay, Miss Crankypants,” Roxie said. “For someone your age, you should be out having fun. You work too hard. And you’ve been tired and grouchy lately from too much work. Lighten up. We need to hook you up with some people your own age.”

  “But we love you and are so proud of you.” Ruthanne patted Cassidy’s hand.

  “I’m still waiting and getting crankier by the minute.” Cassidy frowned at the Pearly Girls.

  Suddenly becoming interested in stirring her coffee into a tiny vortex, Ruthanne clammed up and stared inside the cup.

  “Okay, okay. I need some clean clothes and a hot shower. If it’ll get us back on the road and home faster, I’ll fill you in.” Kate set her drink on the table and took a moment to swish away invisible crumbs. “Yesterday, we went over to talk to the guys in the band. They were having cocktails by the buses, and they invited us to join them.”

  “We thought it would be a good opportunity to ask them some questions. You know, to help you with your research,” Ruthanne added.

  “Anyway, we had some drinks and brats with the guys, met the roadies, and learned way more about their private lives than we wanted to.” Kate stared across the street.

  “Like I said before, we should have gone home, but we had no idea at the time things would go so wrong.” Aileen glanced at the other gals with her lips pursed as if waiting for someone else to drop the big news.

  “Dirk doesn’t talk much, but we heard about the demons Karl’s been battling for years and his women troubles. And about how much Jack wants to get back in the studio to work on a new album.” Kate picked at her croissant.

  “Karl is one hot mess,” Aileen muttered.

  “But he’s loveable, and he asked Aileen out after the concert tonight after regaling us with his long list of bad breakups and scandals.” Ruthanne giggled.

  Aileen gave her a side-eye. “He really didn’t make an excellent case for himself. He needs to learn how to read a room. Not sure why I attract the needy ones.”

  “It’s your wild hair, and he’s better than Sid Pro Quo.” Roxie’s comment earned her a nasty look from Aileen.

  “I think that will be a hard no for both of them,” Aileen added. “Anyway, back to the story. Beau talked a lot about the tours. They do it to keep the revenue coming in since they haven’t recorded anything new in a while. We heard about every city they’ve visited in the last three years. And it was a lot.”

  “And he said how much they would all miss Johnny. They’d have to meet and decide how to proceed after this tour. He was waiting to see what happens with the murder investigation and the will. That could affect royalties and such.” Roxie sipped her drink before pointing her finger at no one in particular. “Money is always a motive.”

  “Interesting. They definitely have a lot of baggage. The more I dig, the more motives I find for a bunch of people to want to do harm to the band members. Unfortunately, no big red arrows point to one person.” Cassidy blew out a puff of air.

  The gals fell into an unusual silence. All seemed to be preoccupied with their drinks or phones or watching the traffic pass by the small patio area. They still had yet to answer the most pressing question.

  “Okay,” Cassidy made a point to make eye contact with each woman as if she were interrogating a group of kindergartners on the playground to see who pushed little Suzie off the swing. “Before we head out, you didn’t get to the part about how you ended up here. Well?”

  Again, all the gals looked around, suddenly busy with staring at the sky, their feet, or their coffee cups.

  “I’m not getting back in the van until you tell me. I can sit here all afternoon if that’s what it takes, but we’ll miss the show.”

  “You’re being capricious,” Roxie frowned. At least it was a better worded comeback than a kindergartner would have used.

  “She did drive all the way up here to get us,” Ruthanne said.

  Aileen cleared her throat. “After the party broke up, the band guys went into town with Beau. And we decided to head out since none of us wanted to go with them. We took the long route to enjoy a walk around your property.”

  “It was a lovely evening,” Ruthanne interjected, as if that made the story all the better.

  “And Kate wanted to look at the garden to bounce some ideas off the group about the wedding.” Aileen nodded. “So, we were technically doing research.”

  “Ivy is the hot new thing.” Ruthanne continued to stall. “It’ll go well with the lilies and roses. And it’s the namesake of our beloved town.”

  Cassidy flashed each of them a death glare. The sun was warming up the temps, and they were nowhere close to wrapping up this story.

  “But back to the story. After the guys left, Roxie had a brilliant idea.” Aileen nodded to Ruthanne to nudge her to pick up the story.

  What is with them? This is maddening!

  “We were circling the buses to see what we could see before we headed home,” Ruthanne added. Roxie glared at her over her sunglasses but didn’t interrupt.

  “Roxie pointed out an open window on Johnny’s bus.” Kate tapped her foot against the table leg.

  These women really don’t want this story to come out. It must be a good one!

  “Anyway.” Aileen picked up the proverbial ball. “When no one was looking…” She glanced at Ruthanne.

  “I was the lookout,” Ruthanne interjected. “To make sure no one snuck up on us.”

  “Like I said,” Aileen repeated. “When no one was looking, Kate hoisted me up, and I wiggled through the window. Then I opened the door and let the others in.”

  “It’s because you’re petite,” Ruthanne added. “I stayed outside to make sure nobody approached. If they did, I was going to do some bird calls to warn the gals.” Ruthanne crossed her arms over her chest.

  Who do they think they are? Charlie’s Angels?

  “We wanted to see if we could find anything. Maybe there was something there we could use to uncover the murderer. It was like we were Jessica Fletcher. The opportunity fell into our laps.”

  Now Cassidy really knew they’d lost all good sense.

  “And we took it,” Roxie said with pride.

  “And it was exhilarating,” Ruthanne added with a wicked grin.

  “After the police had already been over the scene?” Cassidy stared wide-eyed at the Pearly Girls. The whole story was preposterous.

  “They miss stuff.” Roxie rummaged through her purse. “Like this.” She pulled out a day planner and waved it around. “It’s Johnny Storm’s calendar and phone list. I was hoping you could find something useful in it.” She pushed it across the table to Cassidy. “If there’s something there, I know you’ll find it.”

  Cassidy stared at the leather book like it was going to bite her. “But how did you get to Harrisonburg?” she asked for what felt like the tenth time.

  “I’m getting to it,” Aileen snapped. “After our search, it was getting dark, so we slipped out of the bus. On our way to the parking lot, we literally ran into Karl. Well, Kate did. She crashed into him, and they landed in a heap on the grass.”