Panic shot through my head as several different theories collided at once. The two dresses with shredded hem lines flicked through my mind. I recalled how heavy Sylvia’s dress felt, and then Lorea wondering how to lighten the underskirt.
Did the thief know which dresses had diamonds sewn into them? Had he searched for Natalie’s dress, and not finding it, grabbed others that seemed similar? If the idea forming in my mind was correct, he now had proof that we were in possession of the smuggled diamonds. He also had Natalie’s contact information.
Brock had hired bodyguards and had surveillance cameras installed at their homes after news of their engagement covered the tabloids. I felt that Natalie was safe, but her dress was not. I had to find somewhere secure to keep it until the big day.
The kitten batted playfully at something inside the overturned garbage can. It looked like a scrap of material, and I leaned forward for a closer look. The kitten mewed softly and retreated farther inside.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” I called.
“Adri, what are you doing?”
I screamed and sat upright—or tried to, but my head bumped the inside of the trash can. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay?” Tony leaned over me and offered his hand.
Rubbing my head, I scowled. “Why’d you sneak up on me like that?”
He grinned. “I thought I told you not to touch anything.”
“I had to. There was soda dripping all over my papers. I couldn’t just sit here and watch them get ruined.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “What did you find?”
I showed him the stack of papers and told him that the personal information pages were missing, as well as the photo of Natalie’s wedding dress.
“Hmm. I don’t think these were here Thursday. Were any other pages missing?”
“I didn’t find the binder, and I know we had jotted down random notes and sketches on some other pages, but all of the vital wedding planning information is here.” My conscience nagged at me to spill the beans about the diamonds I had found, but I resisted.
Tony pulled out a clear plastic sack marked ‘Evidence’ and dropped the pages inside.
My shoulders slumped. “You have to take the pages, too?”
“I can get photocopies of everything, and as soon as we’re finished with the investigation, they’ll be returned.”
“So anything related to this crime has to go in for processing?”
“Yes.” Tony eyed me curiously. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I need those other two gowns back so Lorea and I can salvage at least the bodice for a new dress. How soon can we have them?” I gave Tony my best stern glare which was supposed to be hiding my honest eyes screaming, I have diamonds in my house, and I should tell you about them but now I know for certain I can’t!
Tony rubbed his forehead. “They said it’d be three weeks.”
“Three weeks!”
Tony held out his hands. “Not my fault. It takes a while to get test results back. This isn’t CSI Miami.”
Any confession I might’ve made died on my lips. I couldn’t sabotage Natalie’s wedding. Three weeks. She would be married in three weeks, and the dress would be sent to the cleaners. I could offer to take care of that for her, and then I would tell Tony everything and hand the gown over to their crime lab.
I often used the quilt in my front room to cozy up with a book and get lost in the pages. Good thing it was summertime because the quilt would have to stay put in my spare room. There would be no warm cozy feelings associated with my crime of withholding information from a criminal investigation.
My actions might be wrong and dangerous, but I wasn’t going to let some criminal ruin my wedding business again. I had been on the threshold of success before Briette’s murder, and my career had been yanked out from under me. Every painstaking moment of detailed work had led to this chance of success for my business. Natalie was a sweet and genuinely nice person who deserved to have her happiness. Not to mention our own happiness in planning her wedding after all we had had to put up with from Sylvia Rockfort.
Maybe there was a way to let Tony know what was happening without giving up Natalie’s wedding gown.
Tony interrupted my guilty train of thought. “How many cans have you searched?”
I pointed down the street to two large dumpsters. “Those are the only ones left.”
“Would you care to search with me?” Tony asked. “Then you can tell me if anything looks relevant.”
“Okay.”
“You know, you could’ve called me before you started digging, and I would’ve come and helped you.” Tony looked at me, and I withered under his gaze.
Scuffing my shoe along the asphalt, I murmured, “I’m not trying to mess up your investigation. I just didn’t know how thoroughly those other officers dug through the trash. I thought maybe I’d find something that hadn’t seemed important.”
“Can you give me a chance next time? I’m a good cop. If you think it’s important, I’ll listen.” Tony pulled on a pair of work gloves and opened the next trash can.
That guilty feeling tickled the back of my throat, but I bit down on my tongue so I wouldn’t tell Tony anything. I needed time to think, and I couldn’t do that until we’d finished searching. “I’m sorry. If I think of anything else, I’ll tell you.”
After an hour of looking, we hadn’t found anything useful. The smell of rotten food and moldy garbage can innards left me feeling sick to my stomach. The nagging guilt over withholding information probably contributed to that, but I did my best to ignore it.
“Sorry about all this, Adri. We’ll be patrolling this area heavily, keeping an eye on your shop.”
“Thanks, Tony.” I hurried home to take a shower before I changed my mind and confessed.
Natalie’s wedding gown looked ethereal hanging in the dim light
