“Absolutely, Mrs. . . . er . . . Mom?” Angie said.
Mel turned away to hide her smile.
Mrs. Harper washed her hands and took a fresh white towel out of the basket on the counter. As she dried her hands, she said, “I know exactly what you mean about the wedding jitters. I was a nervous wreck when Mr. Harper and I got married. I don’t remember a thing.”
“Really?” Angie asked. A frown line formed between her eyebrows.
“I know, isn’t it ridiculous?” Mrs. Harper asked. “You spend a fortune on a day that you don’t remember a thing about. Promise me you’ll pause during your big day and take a few moments to notice things. Like your flowers, the music, the sound of people laughing and talking, and the first sight of Tate when you walk down the aisle. Pictures are nice but you want to try and remember the feelings.”
She squeezed Angie’s hand as she passed them on the way to the door. “Oh, and, Mel, I really liked the skirt you had on at the rehearsal. Very fashion forward of you.”
The door closed after her and Mel looked at Angie. “And there goes the politest woman who ever lived.”
“I know. Fashion forward—only Emily Harper could come up with something nice to say about that skirt. You looked like you were missing your saddle shoes and pet poodle.”
Mel laughed. “It felt as awkward as it looked. Come on, Tate’s going to get antsy if we don’t go out there. He’ll think you pulled a runner.”
Angie turned to look at Mel and her big brown eyes went even wider. “Mel, what would you do if I did?”
“Huh? What?”
Angie grabbed Mel’s hands in hers and bit her lip. “If I decided I couldn’t marry Tate; would you help me?”
“Oh, no, you’re not getting cold feet, Ange,” Mel said. “I mean it. You have loved him for years. How can you second-guess marrying him?”
Angie looked down at the floor. “I have to know. You’re my maid of honor, would you help me? Would you help me run away?”
“No,” Mel said. She didn’t even think it over. She squeezed Angie’s hands tightly in hers and said, “I would hog-tie you and throw you in a sack, then I would get Joe to do the same to Tate and then we would throw the two of you in a locked room until you figured it out. Because, Angie, you love him and he loves you and if ever there were two people who were made for each other it is you two.”
Angie dropped Mel’s hands and opened her arm wide and hugged Mel tight. “And that is why you are my maid of honor!”
Mel studied her friend through a narrowed gaze. “Was that a test? Because that would really be lousy.”
“Not a test so much as a reassurance for me that if I freak out, you’ll do what needs to be done,” Angie said. She slipped her arm through Mel’s and danced on her feet. “I’m going to marry Tate. This time tomorrow, I will be Mrs. Tate Harper.”
Angie’s exuberance was impossible to ignore and Mel hugged her friend to her side. “Thank goodness!”
Together they left the ladies’ room to join the party. Mel saw Joe talking to Uncle Stan and she made her way to them, knowing full well she was likely in for another lecture. The two of them had their heads together as if what they were discussing they did not want overheard. Mel’s curiosity was fully engaged.
“Talking about the case?” she asked as she popped up between them.
“Mel!” Uncle Stan jumped and put his hand on his heart. “Quit sneaking around like that. In fact, quit sneaking around period.”
“I didn’t sneak,” Mel said. “Ray asked me for a favor and I went because I thought it might help Cassie.”
“It didn’t.” Uncle Stan frowned.
“I know, but at least now the police and the district attorney can take Mallory Cavendish off of their suspect list and focus on finding the real killer.”
“You’d better tell her, and emphasize how she is to stay out of this investigation,” Uncle Stan said to Joe. Stan looked grim and then he glanced across the room and saw Mel’s mother, Joyce. His face softened and he gave them a brisk nod. “Excuse me.”
Mel watched as he went to join Joyce. Since her father had passed, Uncle Stan had watched over Joyce, Mel, and Charlie in his stead. Mel had always been grateful to him for trying to help fill the dad-sized hole in her heart, but right now he was on her very last nerve with his bossiness.
Then again, if Joyce was seeing someone, maybe she needed Uncle Stan to step in since Joyce wasn’t sharing with Mel. She should have asked Uncle Stan if Joyce had told him who she was seeing. She’d bet he’d already run a background check on the guy if she had. Hmm.
“You okay?” Joe asked.
Mel turned back to him and leaned into his side. “Yeah, I just feel as if things have been strained between me and Uncle Stan lately and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Joe was quiet for a second and then said, “The Elise Penworthy murder is a pretty high-profile case. He’s got to be feeling the pressure, and having you associated with the case even peripherally is not going to make his job easier.”
“I suppose, but what choice do I have? I can’t abandon my friend. Still, it feels like something more than that is off,” she said. She glanced back at Joe and found his warm brown gaze on her. “So, what did Uncle Stan think you should tell me?”
Joe blew out a breath and put his hand on the back of his neck. He looked wary and regretful. This could not be good.
“The county prosecutor has decided to charge Cassie Leighton with the murder of Elise Penworthy.”
“What?” Mel cried. Several heads snapped in their direction and she lowered her voice, although it was
