Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Southern Sewing Circle 10 - Wedding Duress (18 page)

“And Charles here is also a good friend of Leona’s,” she explained. “In fact, he’s staying with her at her house while he’s in town.”

All signs of boredom disappeared from Amanda’s
face as she found a smile for Charles, too. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

Charles snapped his fingers in his favorite triangle formation and then officially joined Amanda at the table, glancing back at Debbie as he did. “I’ll be back to order something in a few minutes, Love.”

“Amanda? Can I get you something?”

“Yes. I’d love a latte.”

Debbie got to work making the drink while Tori observed Amanda from afar, the girl’s sudden interest in Charles purely about his connection to Leona. Milo was right. Amanda was all about status. Working for the wealthiest family in Sweet Briar surely gave her that and more. The only question now was whether the prospect of losing that status could push her to violence.

Push . . .

She closed her eyes against the memory of Beatrice’s face upon news of Miss Gracie’s death, the utter devastation she’d seen there still capable of sending chills through her body.

“Victoria? Are you okay?”

Opening her eyes, she added a smile to her nod.

When Amanda’s latte was ready, Debbie leaned across the counter and lowered her voice so as to be heard by no one except Tori. “I’m not sure why you’re meeting with that one, but know that she’s only interested in you if she thinks you can get her to the next level in life. And if you can’t, you better stay out of her way.”

Tori placed the latte on the table in front of Amanda and sat on the empty lattice-back chair to Charles’s left.

“Did you know Charles is from New York?” Amanda asked, breathless. “He works in a bookstore and he sees celebrities all the time!” Without waiting for Tori’s reply, Amanda wrapped her hands around her cup and widened her eyes at Charles in rapt interest. “So who is the biggest celebrity you’ve seen so far?”

Charles straightened his shoulders against the back of the chair and folded his hands atop one another on his knee. “Hmmm. I think that depends on how you define big. Are you talking the biggest soap opera star? The biggest TV star? The biggest movie star?”

“You mean you’ve seen people from all those things?”

“The biggest soap opera star lives in the building right
around the corner from me. He’s been on
Gallant and Gorgeous
for more than ten years now.”

“D-Drake Sullivan?” Amanda sputtered.

“One and the same.” Charles lifted his chin into the air and then shrugged. “He’s much more attractive in person.”

“Wow . . .”

Tori nudged Charles’s foot under the table and took command of the conversation before she lost her opportunity to a foot scrub and a bottle of nail polish. “So how long have you been working for the Whitehalls?”

Amanda, in turn, took advantage of the change in subject to sip her drink in such a way as to make sure both Tori and Charles noticed the sapphire and diamond ring on her right hand. “I celebrated my one-year anniversary with the Whitehalls last month. They took me to dinner at the Colonnade Room in Tom’s Creek to celebrate and gave me this ring, too.” Amanda held out her hand. “The sapphire is for my birth month and the diamonds on either side make it all the more breathtaking, don’t they?”

“Girlfriend, they must love you,” Charles said as he leaned forward to take in the ring. “On my first anniversary at the bookstore, all I got was a piece of substandard cake and a twenty-five-dollar gift card.”

“The Whitehalls have a lot of money.” Amanda gazed down at her ring one more time and then took another sip of her drink. “They know everybody who is anybody in this town and they’re going to take me to Paris with them next month!”

She caught the rise in Charles’s eyebrow just before he said, “Ooh-la-la.”

Ooh-la-la was right . . .

“Have you ever been to Paris, Amanda?” Tori asked.

“Uh, no. With the exception of a trip to Charleston to see my cousin when I was ten, I’ve never been out of this godforsaken town.”

“So you must be crossing your fingers it really happens . . .”

Amanda eyed Charles with a mixture of something Tori couldn’t quite identify. Determination and agitation perhaps? “Oh, it’ll happen. Trust me on that one.”

Tori could feel the weight of Charles’s stare as she searched for the next question she wanted to ask. But it was hard when the only thing she could focus on was whether she’d just uncovered a motive for Amanda to have killed Miss Gracie.

“You know, I just remembered another celebrity I saw last week.” Charles uncrossed his legs and brought his hands to the top of the table. “Mark Drury from
Heartbeat
. He looked a lot older in person, but that’s probably because of the stress he’s under right now.”

A kick under the table, coupled with a slight twisting at the corner of her friend’s mouth, had Tori asking a question she really had no interest in voicing. “Why’s he stressed?”

Charles lowered his voice in conspiratorial fashion and looked from Amanda to Tori and back again. “Word on the street is the show is thinking of replacing him. With someone from another show. Can you believe the
audacity
?”

She tried to conceal her smile as she realized what Charles was doing and jumped in with both feet. “So he steps up his game and proves to them he’s a better fit for the role.”

“Better yet, he finds a way to get this potential replacement off the studio’s radar,” Amanda suggested.

“Oh?” she and Charles said in unison.

“Out of sight, out of mind, right?” Amanda glanced down at her watch and then back up at Tori. “So, about meeting Leona Elkin . . . Do you really think you can make that happen?”

*   *   *

She wasn’t entirely sure how long they sat there, staring at the door in the wake of Amanda’s departure, but it was long enough that Debbie left the confines of the counter to snap her fingers in front of first Charles, and then Tori.

“See? This is what you get for passing up food,” Debbie said. “So what will it be? A sandwich? A bowl of soup?”

Charles was the first to respond, his switch from dumbfounded to eclectic foodie nothing short of impressive. “I remember, in one of your first e-mails after you left the city, you sent a picture of some homemade vegetable soup. Do you still have that?”

“Of course. This place would be boycotted by my lunch regulars if I pulled it off the menu.”

“I’d love a bowl of that,” Charles said before addressing Tori. “And what about you, Victoria? A chocolate sandwich?”

She switched gears long enough to make a face. “Ha. Ha.” Then, to Debbie, she said, “Actually, I’ll take a cup of the same soup.”

“And?”

She felt her face warm under the scrutiny and caved
to the pressure. “And a salted caramel brownie—for me, and for Charles.”

“Coming right up.”

When Debbie disappeared through the swinging doors that separated the sales area from the kitchen, Tori addressed the elephant Amanda left behind. “I think that girl just handed me her motive.”

“Handed
us
her motive,” Charles corrected. “I’m riding shotgun on this now, Victoria.”

“I wouldn’t say that in front of Margaret Louise if I were you.” She reached out, grabbed hold of Amanda’s empty cup, and tapped it against the table. “She claimed that seat a long time ago.”

“The backseat works.”

She offered what she imagined was something resembling a smile and then moved on. “I would imagine Amanda saw the writing on the wall for her trip to Paris if the Whitehalls brought in a new nanny.”

“How could she not?” Charles posed. “It’s where my mind would go if I were Amanda.”

“Only you’d step up your game as you said earlier, right?”

“I sure wouldn’t push an innocent woman down the stairs just to get the thought of a new nanny off my employer’s radar if that’s what you’re asking, Victoria.”

She felt her heart rate accelerate in time with Charles’s words. “So that’s where your mind went, too? To the notion that Amanda pushed Miss Gracie to her death to get the Whitehalls thinking about something other than hiring a new nanny for a while?”

“Living in New York City, you come across a lot of Amanda Willeys. And by a lot, I mean
a lot
. They lie,
they schmooze, they bribe, they date, they even
marry
their way into circles they’re determined to be a part of.” Charles stopped, laughed, and rolled his eyes. “I imagine that sounds rather comical coming from me of all people, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t understand.”

Charles fiddled with the knot in his scarf and then dropped his elbow to the table and leaned his chin against his palm. “Yes, I was smitten with the idea of your circle when I saw you on
Taped with Melly and Kenneth
, but that’s because you all seemed so real. So fun. And sure enough, I grew to love all of you once I got to know you. People like Amanda have no interest in getting to the genuine level because they’re already looking ahead to the next step.”

Hooking her finger beneath his chin, Tori brought Charles’s focus squarely on her face. “Not one of us ever saw you as an opportunist. Not ever. As far as we were all concerned, you proved your sincerity the moment you volunteered to help us clear Dixie’s name. Your actions, from that point forward, are what earned you a place in not only
my
heart, but everyone else’s heart, too.”

“I can’t believe you want me at your wedding, Victoria,” Charles whispered in a voice choked with emotion.

“And I can’t imagine you
not
being there.”

Tori grabbed the sewing box and the covered dessert plate from the catch-all table beside her front door and stepped out onto the front porch. Despite the remaining odds and ends still to do before the wedding, knowing she had a sewing circle meeting that night had given her a much-needed boost of energy.

For much of her post-college life in Chicago, she’d dreaded Mondays for all the usual reasons. But once she moved to Sweet Briar and got involved in the Sweet Briar Ladies Society Sewing Circle, the once-despised day had become one of her favorites.

Some could argue the change was due, in part, to the table of homemade treats that were as much a part of the weekly meeting as needles and thread. But even if everyone stopping bringing their favorite desserts, she knew
she’d still look forward to Monday evenings every bit as much.

“You look mighty purty in that royal blue top, Victoria,” Margaret Louise called out from the driver’s side window of her powder blue station wagon. “Mighty purty, indeed.”

She hopped off the last porch step and wound her way around the hood of the wagon, the happiness she felt at seeing her friend multiplying tenfold at the sight of the occupant in the backseat. Balancing the plate on her sewing box–holding arm, Tori pulled open the passenger side door and slid onto the vinyl bench seat. “Rose, what a nice surprise. I didn’t know you were driving with us tonight. How are you?”

“She has to pee, Victoria, so don’t say nothin’ ’bout sweet tea or lemonade or water falls until after we get to Leona’s.” Margaret Louise peered into the rearview mirror as Tori positioned her sewing box on the floor and the dessert plate atop her lap. “Ain’t that right, Rose?”

Tori peeked over her shoulder just in time to catch Rose’s eye roll. “I bet you even talk in your sleep, don’t you, Margaret Louise?”

“Why, Rose, I don’t know. No one has ever said nothin’ ’bout that.”

Rose leaned forward, collected Tori’s kiss, and then pointed at the seat belt mounted to the wall between their doors. “Victoria, if you value your life, you’ll put on your seat belt.”

She started to turn only to freeze as something white and silvery from the trunk area of the wagon caught her attention. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

“What’s what?”

“The white and silver thing in the way—”

Her head snapped back against the headrest as Margaret Louise stepped on the gas and Rose groaned from the backseat. “What did I tell you, Victoria?”

Reaching her left hand across her body, Tori pulled the seat belt down from its resting place and clicked it into the buckle beside her left hip, her heart racing as it always did whenever she was in a car with Margaret Louise. But even as they zipped down one street after the next, she couldn’t help but smile as she peeked at Margaret Louise behind the steering wheel and Rose white-knuckling just about everything she could grab in the backseat.

In addition to being an invaluable sleuthing partner, Margaret Louise was an amazing listener and support system. Sometimes she knew what was bothering Tori before Tori herself knew anything was wrong. And whenever Tori had an idea to help the friends of the library raise funds, Margaret Louise was always ready to roll up her sleeves and help.

And then there was Rose. So many times when she found herself missing her great-grandmother, Tori would pick up the phone and call Rose. It wasn’t that Rose had replaced her great-grandmother, but rather, Rose had helped to quiet the sorrow and lift her spirits. Knowing that she brought something good to Rose’s life, too, made their relationship all the more special.

Margaret Louise turned left at the four-way stop and then right at the next stop sign, their obvious destination both amusing and confusing all at the same time.

“While I know I should be encouraged that you’re driving to Leona’s, this week’s meeting is at Debbie’s place, remember?” she teased.

“No it ain’t.” Margaret Louise elongated her plump body so as to meet Rose’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Tori twisted in her seat enough to be able to see both friends. “Yes it is. Last week we were at Georgina’s. After her house it’s always Debbie’s . . . and
then
Leona’s.”

“Not this time it ain’t.” Margaret Louise turned right once again and then mercifully slowed the car as they approached the familiar row of condominiums. “Charles called this afternoon and asked if we’d be opposed to havin’ our meetin’ at Leona’s this week so she could attend, too.”

Tori felt her shoulders slump at the thought of no one showing up in retaliation for Leona’s latest schenanigans, but they rebounded as Margaret Louise began searching for a parking spot amid a line of familiar cars.

Georgina’s . . .

Debbie’s . . .

Beatrice’s . . .

Dixie’s . . .

And Melissa’s.

“How come I didn’t know about this change?” she asked, swinging her focus back to Margaret Louise.

Again, Margaret Louise looked at Rose before she answered. “I was sure I called you, Victoria. Maybe you missed the message on your recorder?”

“There was no message.”

“Well, I’ll be darned. I musta called Melissa twice then.” Margaret Louise maneuvered her way into a spot directly in front of her daughter-in-law’s oversized van and turned off the engine. “If all goes well, my twin will keep her mouth closed tonight and we can get through the evenin’ with no fightin’ or fussin’.”

“I’m sure Leona will be fine. I’m just surprised Georgina and Dixie were even willing to come based on how angry they were at her at the last meeting.”

Margaret Louise pulled the key out of the ignition, pushed open the door, and stepped onto the pavement in front of Leona’s unit. “We’re doin’ this for one reason and one reason only.”

Tori gathered her sewing box and dessert plate into her arms and then set them on the top of the car so she could assist Rose out of the backseat. When Rose was safely on her feet, Tori retrieved her items as well as Rose’s and shut both doors. “And what is that?”

“You.”

Stopping midway up the steps, Tori turned to look at her friends, who were little more than a few steps behind. “Me?”

The door at the top of the steps opened to reveal six smiling faces all shouting “surprise” at the same time. “Surprise?” she echoed, resuming her way up the steps. “What are you guys talking about?”

Charles looked at each of the women standing around him, wiggling his eyebrows as he did. “May I?” he asked.

Five heads nodded and then Charles snapped his fingers in his favorite triangle motion. “Welcome to your bridal shower, Victoria!”

“M-my b-bridal shower?”

This time, all six heads nodded in time with the two now standing beside her on the stoop. “That’s why we’re all here,” Margaret Louise explained. “Because we’d all do anything for you, wouldn’t we, ladies?”

Tori stepped through the opening made by her friends and stopped to plant a kiss on each and every cheek, and
then watched as Charles and Rose reunited for the first time since New York.

“You got rid of the purple, Charles,” Rose said, reaching up and touching Charles’s spikey hairdo.

He grinned. “Do you miss it, Rose?”

“Surprisingly, I do.” Linking her arm inside Charles’s, Rose shuffled her way through the crowd and down the hall. “Now where is Leona? I want to see that she’s okay.”

Tori watched the group’s matriarch disappear into the living room and then leaned against the wall. “It sure looks like Rose has forgiven Leona for last week’s debacle.”

“That may be so, but we sure haven’t.” Dixie took the covered plate from Tori’s hand and peeled back the foil for a peek. “I know it’s your shower and all, Victoria, but it sure would be a shame not to put these white chocolate brownies alongside the cake and cookies.”

Georgina came in behind Dixie and freed Tori of the weight of her sewing box, too. “And tonight is all about games and presents. No sewing allowed.”

“But the favor bags,” she protested. “I have to make two more for some last-minute RSVPs that came in from Milo’s cousins.”

“Melissa and I made four extras in case somethin’ like that happened, didn’t we, Melissa?” Margaret Louise motioned toward her daughter-in-law yet didn’t wait for her confirmation. “So there’s nothin’ to worry ’bout, Victoria. Nothin’ but havin’ fun.”

*   *   *

An hour and a half into her shower, Tori’s face ached from laughing and smiling so much. They’d played
Dixie’s wedding bingo with conversation-heart candies, she’d awarded boxes of chocolate to the team who’d created the best toilet paper wedding dress, and learned a few interesting tidbits about each of her friends during Debbie’s Guess-Which-Celebrity-I’d-Marry game.

Beatrice, of course, stayed faithful to Kenny Rogers.

Debbie and Melissa both had a fondness for Brad Pitt.

Georgina fancied Tom Hanks.

Dixie was all about Anthony Hopkins.

Margaret Louise laughed at her own choice of Jack Nicholson.

Rose blushed at the mere mention of Paul Newman.

And Charles’s choice of Johnny Depp was still sending knowing chuckles around the room. Yet as she followed the laughs with her eyes, Tori became all too aware of the one person in the room who wasn’t smiling at all.

She peeked into the hat in search of one final index card and came up empty. “Leona? Where’s your card?”

Silence fell across the room as six sets of eyes cast downward, and two sets turned with hers to wait for the woman’s answer. “I didn’t fill one out.”

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t
given
an index card, dear.”

She felt Rose stiffen at her spot between Melissa and Dixie, and was relieved when Charles jumped up from his preferred seat on the floor to grab a card from the stack beside the pretzel bowl. “Here, Leona. You can fill one out now.”

Leona waved the card away with a bejeweled hand. “It’s too late now. There would be nothing for Victoria to guess.”

“No. No. You don’t have to write anything down. Let
me try and guess all on my own.” Tori shifted in her seat as a name revealed itself in her thoughts. “Tom Cruise!”

“Too short, dear.”

“George Clooney!”

“Although he’s very handsome, he’s graying too fast.”

“Liam Neeson!”

“No.”

Charles snapped his finger. “Wait. I bet I can answer this. Channing Tatum!”

Tori prayed her laugh drowned out the snickers that accompanied the thirty-something’s name, but as Leona’s mouth tightened, she knew she’d been unsuccessful. Still, she tried to focus on her injured friend. “Is Charles right?”

“I’d certainly consider a proposal from Channing, or any of the males from the cast of
Magic
—”

“What do you say we take a break for some more snacks?” Georgina suggested, cutting Leona off. “There’s a lot more still to be had besides that amazing cake of Debbie’s Tori already cut.”

Tori waited as the stampede headed off in the direction of the kitchen and then wandered over to Leona’s chair. “How are you holding up, Leona?”

“I’ll be fine, Victoria. This night is about you.”

“I’m sorry everyone is being so cool.”

“Cool?” Leona mimicked. “I rather think they’re treating me like a pariah in my own home.”

Oh, how she wished she could call the woman on being dramatic, but she couldn’t. Sure, everyone had gone out of their way to make the evening special for Tori, but they’d done it without conversing with Leona about anyone or anything. The only question now was whether the
pain that hooded Leona’s eyes was as a result of their behavior or her fractured hip.

“Can I get you something? A cookie? A piece of cake? Your pain medication? Anything?”

“I’m not hungry, dear, but perhaps you could hand me the crossword in today’s paper? I could keep myself busy with that for a few moments while the rest of you snack.” Leona lifted her hand to her forehead and kneaded the skin above her eyes. “And a glass of water. I feel a bit parched.”

“I’ll get the water,” Charles said over Tori’s shoulder. “You get the paper.”

Tori crossed to the magazine holder beside the fireplace, plucked out the paper in the front, and held it up for Leona to see. “Is this the one?”

At Leona’s nod, she crossed back to her friend’s chair and laid the paper across the woman’s lap. “Do you need a pencil?”

“I prefer a pen, but I have one right here.” Leona scooted her paper plate to the side of the nearest end table and uncovered a pen in the process. “Doing a crossword puzzle with a pen shows confidence, dear.”

Without thinking, Tori reached toward the paper in an effort to help smooth out a few wrinkles, but as she did, Leona gasped.

“Leona? Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

When her friend said nothing, she withdrew her hand and asked again. “Leona? Are you okay?”

Leona reached out, grabbed Tori’s hand, and brought it back to the newspaper. “Flip your hand over, Victoria.”

“Flip my hand over? Why?”

She heard the rest of the circle return to the room and gather around the chair to see what was happening.

“Just flip it over, dear.”

She did as Leona asked, only to receive the same result as she had the first time.