I tried on the other two first. The green lace was tight-fitting and clung to me like plastic wrap to the side of its box. Definitely no. The traditional one was nice and actually flattering. But I didn’t want to wear such a dark color to a summer outside event. I might buy it for some other time, I thought, as I slipped into the pink, having already forgotten my previous misgivings about buying something new.
The chiffon was as flirty and romantic as I’d thought it would be and felt smooth and light against my skin. I could imagine dancing with Cole in it and feeling like a girl in the spirit of our missed homecoming and prom dances. I almost did a little twirl in front of the mirror.
I’d buy them both, I decided. There was no reason to think I might not need the blue dress some other time, like for a cocktail party this fall or winter. Or maybe for a nice dinner out somewhere with Cole. The strapless bra I could definitely use again. I’d get that too. Should I? Would I really use the bra again? Or the dress? When was the last time I’d bought anything nice for myself?
I sat on the bench in the dressing room with a thud. Beth’s face floated before me. I could almost hear her telling me to buy them both. Live a little. Treat yourself, you’ve been through a lot. For too long, I’d chosen a life that would make up for Beth’s lack of one. I’d lived like I shouldn’t have been here when Beth couldn’t be. So many choices had been that way. Teaching literature but abandoning my writing. A husband I knew deep down wasn’t capable of loving me as I deserved to be. Perhaps even the choice to have only one child could be traced back to my survivor’s guilt.
I stood up from the bench and took a final look at myself in the soft, sensuous dress. If I have my way, Beth, we’re going to nail the devil. Whether it was tonight or next year, I’d never give up.
I paid for the dresses and walked to my car. For hours I’d debated myself. To tell Cole my intentions for the evening or not? If he knew what I suspected, he wouldn’t let me get anywhere near the man. No, I’d keep it to myself for now. I needed to look Richards in the eyes. I had to believe I’d be able to see the truth. If I got anything tonight, even a vibe or a hint of guilt in the eyes of Thom Richards, I’d tell Cole on the way home. After that, I could go to Ford.
20
Cole
The country club and golf course were north of town and had views of both Logan and Blue Mountains. We were seated next to an elderly couple name Ruth and Charles Cassis. They were white-haired and blue-blooded, having told us almost immediately that their families went back a hundred years in Logan Bend. I vaguely recalled them from Sunday school back when I was a kid. Mrs. Cassis had been our teacher when we first moved here. She hadn’t been a fan of Drew, and by connection of me. If I recalled correctly, neither my brother nor I had been impressive when it came to memorizing verses. Although the conversation had remained benign throughout the meal, Mrs. Cassis sent curious glances Carlie’s way. They obviously wanted to ask Carlie questions about the murder. I understood now how being defined as the murdered girl’s sister was burdensome. For the first time, doubt crept into my thoughts. Was it wrong to ask Carlie to live here? Should I tell her that I’d go with her wherever she wanted to go?
We’d been served a meal of dry chicken, limp asparagus, and mashed potatoes the consistency of glue. I’d eaten it because I was hungry, but Carlie had picked at hers. Fortunately, the wine was a red blend from Walla Walla and quite good. She had barely sipped hers.
The servers were now bringing chocolate cake with a raspberry swirl, indicating that the speech portion of the night was about to start. I braced myself for a boring speech and nodded yes when the server asked if I wanted a refill on my wine. Carlie agreed to another as well.
Sharon Richards walked up to the lectern, dressed in an expensive-looking black dress and a pair of those pointy-type shoes I could never figure how a woman’s foot fit in. With a mushroom of white-blond hair that wouldn’t move in a windstorm as well as bright red lipstick, she was the epitome of the politician’s wife. She smiled out at the room full of tables as all gazes turned in her direction.
“First, thank you all for being here and supporting the next governor of Idaho, Thom Richards.”
She paused as the crowd clapped. “I thought it might be fun to share with you a little about the Thom Richards I know and have loved for over thirty years.”
Here we go, I thought, yearning suddenly for an evening on the patio with Duke and Moonshine. Politicians loved to hear themselves talk.
“We met at the University of Idaho—go Vandals—and I knew instantly he was the one. It took him a little longer, but he finally got there and we married right after graduation. He
