Cut to the Corpse (5 page)

She rose from the table, looking satisfied. Brenna tried not to sag with relief.

“Tara, we need to go. We have another fitting for your gown,” Tiffany said.

“Yes, Mother,” Tara said. As she passed Brenna, she leaned down and gave her a fierce hug. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Brenna said and squeezed her back. She was getting used to Tara’s exuberance; in fact, to her surprise, she was becoming fond of it.

Tara then turned and gave Tenley a hug, too.

“I think we three are just going to be the best of friends,” Tara said. “Oh, that gives me an idea!”

“What’s that?” Brenna asked.

“I think you two should really come out with me and my bridesmaids tonight,” Tara said.

Tenley and Brenna exchanged a look. Bachelorette parties were right up there with standing in line at the DMV and annual gynecological exams for Brenna, and she was pretty sure Tenley felt the same way.

“Oh, I’m dog sitting . . .” Brenna began.

“Oh, please,” Tara begged. “My maid of honor, Britney, just flew in from Paris and she won’t be back until the wedding. Please say you’ll join us.”

Tiffany reappeared behind her daughter.

“Join who?” she asked.

“Tara just invited us to her bachelorette party,” Tenley said. “And we’d like to, but . . .”

“But what?” Tiffany interrupted. One perfectly waxed eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the other while she waited for their answer.

“But, of course, we’d love to,” Tenley said.

Brenna gaped at her as if she’d recently sustained a head injury.

“Excellent,” Tiffany said and turned back to the door.

“Yay!” Tara said with a small jump and a clap. “We’ll meet in the bar at the Fife and Drum at eight o’clock.”

“See you then,” Tenley said with a wave.

“Are you kidding me? Why did you say yes?” Brenna asked as soon as the door shut behind them. “I hate those things.”

“I’m sorry,” Tenley said. “But Tiffany reminded me so much of my mother, I cracked under the eyebrow of displeasure.”

“It is a powerful eyebrow,” Brenna acknowledged. “But still, that’s no excuse. You and I are veterans in the ‘making your mother unhappy’ wars. We need to get out of this.”

“Think of it as a deed for the greater good,” Tenley reasoned.

“How do you figure?”

“Being seen with us will give Tara some credibility in the town,” Tenley explained. “You heard how the Porter sisters talked about her. Someone needs to show acceptance of this union if Tara is going to stand a chance of getting her happy ever after.”

“That would be you,” Brenna said. “You’re Morse Point’s favorite native daughter. I’m still a stranger in these parts.”

“Not anymore you’re not,” Tenley said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Do you remember Donna Smithfield’s bachelorette party?”

Tenley cringed, but Brenna was merciless.

“Her maid of honor paraded her all over Boston, wearing a veil with tiny penises all over it. It was bizarre and weird. Not to mention I had a hangover for three days.”

Tenley burst out laughing. “That was seven years ago. Get over it already.”

“I’m not wearing anything with man junk on it,” Brenna said.

“I think you’re safe,” Tenley said. “As far as I can tell, Tara is as pure as the driven snow. I’m sure it will be a very mellow evening.”

“Yeah, right,” Brenna said. She stared at the paper scraps in front of her, wondering how she got into these things and, more importantly, how could she get out.

Turned out, there was no getting out of it. And so, at eight o’clock sharp, Brenna strolled into the bar of the Fife and Drum, wearing an olive green, wool jersey sheath by Donna Karan that was sleeveless and gathered at the waist with a flattering V cut neckline.

She accessorized with peep toe, brown leather Alexander McQueen pumps and a matching clutch and had stacked several gold bangles on her right wrist. These were more of her clothes from her bygone days at the art gallery in Boston. Some of the outfits, like this dress, she just wasn’t ready to give to the rummage sale—not yet anyway. Although, she was rethinking the shoes. She hadn’t worn heels much since she’d been in Morse Point, and the arches in her feet were already beginning to whine in protest.

Brenna scanned the dimly lit bar until she saw Tenley. Always beautiful, she looked especially so this evening with her long blond hair up in a twist and a body-clinging, purple slip dress that made her blue eyes a startling shade of violet. She was standing amidst a crowd of younger women, looking ill at ease.

It only took a moment for Brenna to see why. One of the women was leaning over the bar, whispering in Matt Collins’s ear. She was a honey-haired blonde, wearing a red-hot number by Dior that pushed her breasts up and out while flirty ruffles showed off her tan legs.

It looked to Brenna as if Tenley wanted to kick the stool right out from under the girl. She stepped up her pace across the bar.

“Brenna!” Tara greeted her with a hug and an air-kiss. She looped her arm through Brenna’s and dragged her over to the group.

“This is Britney, my maid of honor,” Tara said. She tapped the blonde in scorching red, who looked annoyed at having her moment with Matt interrupted.

Brenna shook her hand and watched as Tenley slid smoothly into the spot Britney had vacated and began to chat with Matt. The young Britney looked miffed to have been supplanted and Brenna had to hide her smile.

“This is Dana,” Tenley continued the introductions, “and her sister Marissa.”

The sisters were a study in contrasts. While Dana was tall and thin, Marissa was short and curvy. Neither one was particularly pretty, as they both had long faces with prominent noses. They didn’t strike Brenna as being happy sorts, although that could be because they both wore basic black cocktail dresses accessorized with deep, disapproving frowns.

“I still don’t see why we had to get together in this godforsaken backwater,” Marissa said. She looked at Brenna with absolutely no repentance. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Brenna said.

“Seriously,” Dana said, looking at Tara. “You’re really going to live here?”

“Yes,” Tara said. “I think it’s going to be lovely.”

“I think it’s going to be hell on earth,” Marissa said. “There’s no shopping, no theaters, no clubs. You’re going to be bored out of your mind.”

“Excuse me, I think I’ll get a glass of wine,” Brenna said before she could get dragged into the debate.

She left Tara and the grumpy sisters and squeezed in next to Tenley at the bar. Matt immediately poured her a glass of pinot grigio and she smiled her thanks.

“This is going to be a long night,” she said.

“And how,” Tenley agreed, with a pointed glare at Britney, who had moved down the bar to signal Matt for a refill.

“I envy Tara,” Tenley said.

“Because she’s getting married?” Brenna asked, taking a sip of her dry white wine.

“No, because she’s marrying the man she wants and her parents are letting her.”

Brenna watched her watching Matt. “You’ve never gotten over him, have you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me,” Brenna said. She gave her friend a reassuring squeeze. Tenley had dated Matt in high school. Her parents had forced them apart and Brenna knew her friend still suffered for it.

“There’s my girl!” A shout caused them to turn around.

Jake Haywood crossed the room and swooped Tara up into a big hug. She giggled as he spun her around, and Brenna couldn’t help but notice that when they looked at each other the rest of the world disappeared.

Beside Jake was his best friend, Clue Parker. Clue was the sort of guy who made the parents of pretty daughters lie awake at night worrying. He was recklessly handsome, with dark brown hair that fell over his forehead and a set of dimples bracketing his wolfish grin that were deep enough to hide spare change.

Even being a fairly new resident, Brenna knew Clue’s reputation as a womanizer. She also knew that he and Jake had been friends since they were kids. Jake being the one who kept Clue from making too many bad decisions, and Clue being the one who kept Jake from making too many good ones. Like left and right, one was seldom found without the other, and she wondered how Clue was taking his best friend’s upcoming wedding.

It didn’t take long to find out. When Jake wasn’t looking, Clue sent Tara a look of such malevolence that Brenna gasped. She looked at Tenley to see if she saw it, too, but she was busy keeping an eye on Britney and Matt. Tara was looking at Jake, and completely oblivious to anyone else, while Dana and Marissa had their heads pressed together, whispering scathing observations about the town no doubt. No one else had seen it.

When Brenna looked back at Clue, the look was gone and instead he was studying her as if he knew she’d seen him. He grinned and then licked his lips with slow deliberation. Brenna didn’t know if he was hitting on her or warning her; either way it made a shiver run down her spine.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Tara was chiding Jake.

“I know but I couldn’t resist seeing you,” he said. “Clue and I are going to the Brass Rail to shoot some pool before he starts work tonight. I want you to be careful and call me if you need a ride.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Tara said. “Daddy hired us a driver.”

“Too bad he can’t drive us out of this podunk town,” Dana said with a sneer.

“Yeah, like, back to civilization,” Marissa agreed.

“With faces like yours, I imagine you need a bigger pond to fish in,” Clue said.

Dana gasped and Marissa huffed, while Britney laughed delightedly. In her flirty red dress, she stepped into Clue’s line of sight, and his gaze raked her from head to toe. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking.

“That’s it. I’m going home,” Dana announced.

“Me, too,” said Marissa.

“Oh, no, don’t,” Tara pleaded. “Clue was just joking, weren’t you, Clue?”

He looked at her as if he had only just begun, but Jake elbowed him hard in the side. The two men stared at each other for a second and then Clue turned back to the girls.

He took each of their hands in one of his and brushed his lips across the back of Dana’s and then Marissa’s.

“Forgive me,” he said. He flashed his dimples. “I am a complete jerk for insulting two such lovely ladies. I just can’t bear the thought that you dislike Morse Point so much that you may not come back and grace us with your beauty once again.”

Dana and Marissa lit up like a pair of candles at the flattery. Britney looked like she might gag, and Brenna really couldn’t blame her. How the two sisters could swallow that shovelful of bull, she couldn’t fathom.

“We’ll leave you girls to your evening,” Jake said, obviously deciding to get while the getting was good. He kissed Tara fiercely on the lips. “Call me tomorrow.”

“I will,” she promised with a sigh.

“I’ll be at the Brass Rail all night,” Clue said, stepping close to Britney. “Come by.”

“I will,” she promised. The innuendo oozing between them was thick enough to serve in a bowl.

“I’m hopping off this train before we make that stop,” Tenley said to Brenna. “That place is a dump.”

Brenna had never been in the Brass Rail, but she had heard it was a biker bar with a reputation for drug trafficking. She couldn’t imagine Tara would want to go there.

After several drinks at the Fife and Drum, the party of six women took the limo Tara’s father had hired to the Willow House. It was a bar/coffeehouse on the outskirts of Morse Point near the university. Both Tenley and Brenna ordered coffee, while the younger women continued with their appletinis and cosmopolitans.

By unspoken agreement, Tenley and Brenna took their coffee to a secluded table in the back. A live band was playing cover music and couples crowded the floor. Britney had found a quorum of admirers and was now dancing evocatively amidst the slack-jawed males in the center of the dance floor. Dana and Marissa hovered on the fringe of the group as if trying to bask in her reflected glory.

Tara had excused herself to take a call on her cell phone, and judging by the way her face lit up when she saw who it was, Brenna suspected it was Jake.

Both Tenley and Brenna had been asked to dance, but they declined. Tenley because she wasn’t interested and Brenna because her feet were killing her, although she probably would have refused either way. The club scene just wasn’t her bag.

“When did we get so old?” Tenley shouted over the music, as if reading her mind.

“I don’t think we’re old,” Brenna said. “It’s just that we’ve done all this before. Who wants their life to be a rerun?”

“Good point,” Tenley said. And then she giggled and asked, “Are you as tired as I am?”

“Yes,” Brenna said and then she giggled, too. “My God, we are old!”

A tall man wearing an expensive suit approached their table. He carried himself with a distinct sense of purpose and the raw power he exuded was impossible to ignore. Brenna prepared to politely rebuff the man’s advance when recognition struck.

“Dom!” She broke into a grin.

“Ladies.” He leaned down and kissed each of their cheeks. Then he stood back and glowered at Brenna.

“You never returned my call,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I meant to, but after the funeral, well, everything just got away from me.”

“I understand,” he said.

His chocolate brown eyes were warm with empathy, and Brenna wished, not for the first time, that they made her feel the same zip that Nate’s did.

“Join us?” Tenley asked, and Dom pulled out a chair and sat with them.

They had met Dom Cappicola, the son of a mobster, several months ago when they were conducting some amateur sleuthing, trying to clear Nate of a bogus murder charge.

Dom had let his interest in Brenna be known, but with her feelings toward Nate all in a muddle, she didn’t think it was fair to Dom to encourage him. Still, he was attractive and at any other time she might have felt differently, especially since he was trying to turn the Cappicola family business legit.