A Fitting End: A Magical Dressmaking Mystery (32 page)

Rain pelted my face. The back of my head thudded against the roof and everything went fuzzy. And then I was falling, headed straight for the red mound below.

Faces flashed like an old-fashioned picture show. Meemaw. Nana. Mama. My brother, Red. My nephews, Clay and Cullen. Mrs. James. Libby Mcafferty. Gracie Flores. Will.

The people who loved me, and who I loved…

And then I crashed. It wasn’t the hard, bone-breaking collision of a body against the ground, but a soft landing against something pliable, almost like a trampoline, and it cradled me, cupping my body as I sunk into it.

“Harlow!”

I tried to shake away the clouds in my head, peering up at Mrs. James’s horrified face. Her arm was stretched over the broken railing, as if she were still trying to catch me.

Just as I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Abernathy behind her, her back pressed against the door, I lurched, the fabric of the tented walkway that held me giving way. It pitched and a second later I was sliding, then falling, until I hit the ground.

Right next to the lump of red we’d seen from above.

I gasped for air, afraid to move. Blinking away the veil of fear from the fall, I peered up at the widow’s walk. Mrs. James and Mrs. Abernathy were gone.

Everything was fuzzy, but I tried to take inventory. I wiggled my toes in my boots. Moved my fingertips. Shifted my hips.

Everything hurt.

Finally, I turned my aching head, just a touch, to look at what I was lying next to.

I registered the fur-lined coat, red and white hat, and black belt.

Remembering what Mrs. James had said up on the widow’s walk, my gaze slowly traveled down until I saw black boots. A wave of nausea filled my gut. Not a
what
, I realized. A who. I had stumbled upon another body.