Mother winced delicately. She has resigned herself to getting Grimaldi for a daughter-in-law, but I wouldn’t say she was looking forward to it.

  “And since she’s going to be extra busy with this situation, both because she cares about Bob and because she has two people missing from her command—”

  “Excuse me?” Mother said.

  “Not missing, missing. But Rafe and Tucker aren’t working on Columbia PD business. They’re working on finding Bob. So because Grimaldi is having to pick up some of that slack, she’s a little busier this week than I think she thought she would be. I talked to her about what I could do to make things easier. I wasn’t supposed to deal with the gown and bridesmaid dresses until Wednesday, but if we’re seeing Audrey today, I might as well talk to her about it now…”

  “Of course,” Mother said.

  “Grimaldi’s family comes in on Wednesday. She and Dix will have to have dinner with them. I think you and Bob were supposed to be part of that? Not sure whether you’ll want to do that or not on your own…?”

  “I’ve decided to hope,” Mother said, “that Bob will be back by then.”

  That would be nice.

  “And if not, I’ll make that decision then. I believe Tamara’s brother is single, or at least is attending the wedding on his own? Perhaps he and I can make up a pair.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about the seating arrangements,” I said. “But sure. Tony’s supposedly on his own. You can sit next to him at dinner if Bob doesn’t show up. If Bob comes back, you’ll just have to deal with the seating arrangements being uneven.”

  “If Bob comes back, I will deal with anything,” Mother said, and since there wasn’t much I could say to that, I didn’t try to get the last word, just kept my mouth shut and focused on finding a parking spot as close to the Café and Audrey’s on the Square as I could manage.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tamara Grimaldi, bless her heart, would have been happiest had she been able to marry Dix in one of the navy blue pantsuits she wore to work, in front of the local justice of the peace, with a half dozen people present, all of them the closest of friends. It had taken everything I had to convince her that she deserved a white gown and veil and orange blossoms and the whole nine yards.

  And actually, I hadn’t convinced her. We’d drawn the line long before the orange blossoms, and there wasn’t going to be much of a veil, either. And all the frilly princess-gowns I had trotted out, thinking they’d make an interesting contrast with her short, black hair, had been rejected with a curled lip. In the end, the choice had fallen on a very simple, almost austere gown of white silk, with an empire waist and long sleeves with a flare at the bottom. There was no lace, no ribbons, no beads. The only ornamentation, if you can call it that, was a thick band of shiny satin that outlined the square neckline. Along with it was a headband that looked almost art deco, with a row of shiny satin flowers across the top of the head.

  “Lovely,” Mother decreed, as Audrey held it up for her approval. “Will it need alteration?”

  “If it does, I’ll know tonight. She’s coming in for a final fitting at five.”

  Audrey zipped the ensemble back into the bag again, and hung it on the rolling rack. “Now you, Savannah…”

  “Navy blue,” I said. “I know.”

  “Would you like to try on your dress, since you’re here?”

  I supposed I might as well. As she said, I was here. So I took it into an empty dressing room and changed into it while I listened to Mother and Audrey discuss the wedding and, of course, Bob.

  “Any news?”

  “Only negative so far,” Mother said with a quaver in her voice she didn’t have when she was talking to me. “He wasn’t in the truck. He hasn’t been found wandering the ridge. He hasn’t come home. No one’s heard from him…”

  I lifted the navy blue silk from the hanger and dropped it over my head while I eavesdropped shamelessly.

  “I don’t know what to do, Audrey! Nothing in my life has prepared me for this. Robert was always so reliable…”

  There was a beat while both of them, probably, tried to figure out how to deal with that conversational gambit. Mother, I would guess, wished she hadn’t said anything, while Audrey didn’t want to remind her that my father was also the father of Audrey’s daughter Darcy, my half-sister, and Dad had in fact had stuff in his past that Mother never knew about. Or not until it had all come out and blown up in all our faces last year, anyway.

  I adjusted the drape of the dress over my hips and stomach—not as flat as it had been before Carrie, although it hadn’t been all that flat then either—and waited for one of them to speak. When neither did, I pushed the fitting room door open and walked out. Might as well diffuse the tension myself if no one else was going to.

  “What do you think?”

  They both turned to me, with matching relieved expressions on their faces.

  Mother and Audrey have been best friends since Mother first came to Sweetwater, and they’re as different, at least to look at, as two women can be. Mother is a little shorter than me, so average height for a woman, and she has blond hair (kept that way with some help from science these days) and blue eyes and a generally soft and ladylike way about her. Audrey, on the other hand, is tall and angular, with sharp cheekbones, a black wedge haircut, and bright red lipstick. Where Mother always looks elegant and understated, in soft pastels and rich fabrics, Audrey looks dramatic, in primary colors and bold prints.

  They’d had a period of estrangement after Mother found out about Dad and Audrey’s daughter, and honestly, it was hard to blame her for feeling that Audrey should have shared that piece of information with her at some point over thirty-plus years of friendship. But they’d worked things out between them after Audrey almost drowned last Thanksgiving, trying to stop Mrs. Jenkins from being killed, and for the past six or eight months, things had been back to normal.

  Until now, anyway. I hoped this wouldn’t be a setback, and applied myself diligently to giving them something else to think about. I mean, if ever Mother had needed her best friend on her side, it was now.

  “The drape works, right? My stomach isn’t what it used to be, after Carrie.”

  “The drape looks wonderful, Savannah,” Audrey said warmly. “And so do you. Motherhood becomes you.”

  “Thank you.” I felt fat and tired a lot of the time, so it was nice to hear that someone thought I still looked good. “What do you think, Mother?”

  My mother’s always been more critical of me than Audrey, and perhaps that’s natural. At any rate, I’ve always felt like I fell short. Now she pursed her lips—and then quickly straightened them again; wrinkles, you know—before she nodded. “Very becoming. The drape hides the slight… affluence around the middle, and the neckline draws attention to your bosom.”

  And my bosom was improved by Carrie. I hadn’t had small breasts before, either, but they were bigger now, that I was carrying six meals a day inside them.

  “Don’t you want to try on your mother-of-the-groom outfit while we’re here?”

  “I suppose I’d better,” Mother said, with every evidence of reluctance.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Listen. I know you don’t really like Grimaldi, and you wish Dix were marrying someone else…”

  “I want Dixon to marry someone who makes him happy,” Mother said. “If she makes him happy, then I’m happy for them.”

  “I’m pretty sure she does make him happy.”

  She nodded. “It’s hard to muster up any excitement for the dress when I remember that Bob might not be there to…”

  Oh, God. “Of course,” I said, contritely. “I… guess I forgot, for a second or two.”

  “I didn’t.”

  No, of course she hadn’t. I thought about apologizing again, more contritely, but now Audrey was there, with the bag containing the mother-of-the-groom dress, and it was Mother’s turn to disappear into a dressing room while Audrey walked in a circle around me, tucking and adjusting the fabric here and there until it lay as she decreed it should.

  She nodded. “Looks good, Savannah. You got your shoes and jewelry?”

  “Silver sandals from last year. I’ll find a necklace to put on.” Or not. Nobody except Rafe was likely to look at me, so it didn’t really matter.

  “Do you have any idea when I can expect the others to come in for their final fittings?”

  “Francesca won’t be here until Wednesday night,” I told her, “and Grimaldi’s friend Megan is coming for the bachelorette party on Thursday and then going back to Nashville to work one more shift before she comes back for the rehearsal on Friday night. I can see if she can come down early on Thursday and squeeze in a fitting then. Otherwise, she’ll just have to wear what you give her, and adjust it with safety pins if she has to.”

  Audrey’s face clouded over, but she nodded.

  “Catherine and Darcy are right next door, so after lunch I'll stop in and remind them that they both have to make it over here in the next three days to try on the dresses. Or you can do it yourself. You probably see them both more than I do.”

  “I see Darcy more than you do,” Audrey said, “I’m sure, but Catherine isn’t always in the office. But I’ll try to track them both down.”

  She turned toward the fitting rooms as Mother came out. “Oh, Margaret, you look lovely!”

  She really did. The mother-of-the-groom dress was actually a whole outfit: a fitted, knee-length dress with a beaded, matching cardigan over it. The color was a pale blue, gorgeous with Mother’s eyes and the soft color of her hair, and the fit was perfect. My mother, after three children and six decades, has a nicer figure than I do.

  “You look great,” I said. “The cardigan might be a little warm outside in June…”

  “But I’m certainly not going sleeveless, not at my age.” She turned toward the mirror, inspected herself, and gave a decisive nod. “It’ll do.”

  “Then we’ll both get into our regular clothes and go get some lunch,” I said. “Do you want to gather up Mrs. J, Audrey?”

  “She’s in the back, coloring,” Audrey said. “I’ll get her.”

  She headed that way while Mother and I ducked into side-by-side dressing rooms and changed out of our wedding finery into what we’d started the day in. By the time I’d tucked my matron-of-honor dress back into the bag Audrey had provided, Audrey had Mrs. Jenkins up and moving.

  Tondalia Jenkins is Rafe’s grandmother, his father Tyrell’s mother. I first met her in Nashville almost two years ago, shortly after Rafe’s mother LaDonna died, during the time when he was trying to figure out whether he had any other family left.

  She’s a tiny woman of indeterminable age. Audrey’s a little older than Mother, so in her early sixties. Tondalia was Oneida’s, Audrey’s mother’s, younger sister. Tyrell, had he lived, would still be on the right side of fifty. Mrs. Jenkins was probably in her seventies, although she might easily have been a decade older. She’s as small and as wrinkled as a raisin, with bright, black eyes, gray hair, and a beaming smile. And she calls everyone ‘baby.’ She did it now, when she saw me. “Morning, baby! How’s that handsome boy of mine?”

  “Still handsome,” I told her, and made her chuckle. “He’s busy working. But it’s wedding season. You’ll see him for the next one on Saturday.”

  “Who’s it, getting married this time?”

  I told her, as we made our way out of the boutique and down the sidewalk to the café, that it was my brother’s turn this weekend. “Rafe is one of the groomsmen.”

  She blinked, and I could see confusion in her eyes. “Your grandson,” I reminded her gently. “I’m Savannah, remember? And this is Carrie?”

  She looked at the baby for a second, and then her eyes cleared. “Sure, baby. Everything good?”

  “Everything is great,” I told her, all evidence to the contrary, since she certainly didn’t need to know, and probably wouldn’t understand, what was going on with Bob.

  * * *

  After lunch, Mother elected to stay with Audrey and Mrs. J. She’d either walk back to Bob’s house, she said, or call a cab. Since it was only a matter of a few blocks, and since Audrey and Mrs. Jenkins had probably walked from Audrey’s little cottage, also in the historical district, to the store this morning, I figured she’d probably be OK getting there.

  “Do you want me to bring Pearl over? Or would you like to come out to the mansion later and have dinner with me? Rafe’s probably going to come home around midnight again. He has, every night since Saturday.”

  “I’ll stay with Audrey and Tondalia,” Mother said firmly. “We’ll figure something out for dinner.”

  “And Pearl?”

  “You can keep her with you for now. It was lovely to spend time with her, but I think she was happy to get back home.”

  She hadn’t seemed to me to mind being pampered at Bob’s house, but she was properly my dog, I guess. “That’s fine. Let me know if you change your mind. You know she always enjoys spending time with you.”

  Mother said she would, and I walked out of the boutique with Carrie’s car seat in one hand and my bridesmaid dress in the other. I hung the latter from the coat hook in the back of the car, and then turned around and went back inside, this time to Martin and McCall, Attorneys at Law, just down from Audrey’s on the Square.

  The original Martin was my great-grandfather, the guy who started the family law firm. After him, my grandfather and then my father practiced there. These days, Dix is the Martin and Jonathan, our brother-in-law, Catherine’s husband, is the recently-added McCall. Catherine does some part-time work, too, but it’s mostly Dix and Jonathan holding down the fort these days. I imagine Catherine might go back to work full time once the kids are older, but as Cole is still just four, there’s some time to wait before that.

  “My sister here?” I asked Darcy when I walked into the lobby.

  She shook her head. “Just me and Jonathan right now. Dix left for lunch. I think he ran over to Todd and Marley’s house to see if there was anything he could do for them.”

  I couldn’t imagine that there was, but it was nice of Dix to make the effort, especially when, I assumed, he had his hands full with his own wedding arrangements.

  “I just came from having lunch with your mother, and mine. She wanted me to remind you, and Catherine, that you need to come in and have your bridesmaid dresses fitted before the end of the week.”

  “The wedding’s still on?”

  I nodded. “So far. Grimaldi talked about postponing, and I crushed that suggestion with both feet. I’m not sure how keen Mother is, either, honestly. I’m sure there are many of us who’d prefer to wait. But if we do, then we’ll have to make all the arrangements again in another week or two. Might as well do it now. It’ll give us all something else to focus on, other than Bob being gone.”

  Darcy nodded. “I’ll make sure I get over there tomorrow to try the dress on. Although I’m sure it’ll be fine even if I don’t.”

  I was sure it would, too. Darcy had inherited Audrey’s leggy elegance, slightly softened by Dad’s snub features. She had high cheekbones and big, dark eyes, but the cheekbones were less pronounced than Audrey’s, her face more oval and less angular, and her hair cut in a short cap around her face. We look nothing alike, no one who saw us together would guess that we were related, although she looks not dissimilar to Rafe, who’s also tall with long legs and nice cheekbones. I was sure the bridesmaid dress would make her look like a model. There was no affluence that needed hiding on Darcy’s body.

  “Is Patrick coming with you to the wedding?” I asked.

  She nodded. Patrick Nolan, her beau, is another of Grimaldi’s cops. He rides around in a patrol car with a partner, named Lupe Vasquez. She’d probably be at the wedding, too, now I thought about it. Todd’s wedding had been a pretty big occasion, but I bet Dix and Grimaldi’s would be bigger. And hopefully happier. Hopefully Bob would be back by then and all we’d have to worry about would be celebrating.

  * * *

  “Any news?” I asked Rafe later that night.

  He actually made it home at a more reasonable hour than the previous two nights, at least as long as you consider eight-thirty reasonable. I had eaten dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, and was sitting in the parlor with HGTV on, with Pearl on a pillow and Carrie on a blanket on the floor having tummy-time—which was just as much back-time now, when she’d learned to turn over. She kept flipping from front to back like a cheese sandwich in a pan.

  Pearl heard the key in the door first, and let out a short, sharp bark. She scrambled to her feet and took off, straight across Carrie, who ended up being ever so slightly trampled by the much bigger dog. I heard Pearl’s nails scrabble on the wood in the hallway as she headed for the kitchen and the back door. For the first second or two, Carrie just seemed startled, then her tiny face puckered and she began to wail. Meanwhile, Pearl skidded to a stop in the kitchen in time to greet Rafe—or vice versa.

  “Hiya, Pearl. Yes, it’s nice to see you, too.”

  I could just imagine the big dog wiggling like a puppy, so happy to see him her entire hindquarters were wagging.

  “I’m in the parlor,” I called out. “There’s chicken in the fridge, although it’s probably cold by now.”

  “I grabbed something earlier, darlin’.” I heard his footsteps in the hallway, side by side with Pearl’s prancing steps, and then they both appeared in the doorway. Rafe looked tired, but his face brightened at the sight of his daughter. And maybe at the sight of me, too. At least I’d like to think so.

  “Wine?” I asked. “There’s some of that in the fridge, too.” And frankly, he looked like he could use a stimulant.

  “I wouldn’t say no to a beer. You stay there, I’ll go look.”

  He disappeared again, Pearl on his heels, and came back thirty seconds later with a bottle in his hand. “Go on,” he told Pearl, “go lie down.”