She stepped closer. “He’s not here.”
“Do you know where he went?”
She shook her head. “I was just about to go across the street to the café to grab some dinner, why don’t you join me? We haven’t had much opportunity to get to know each other.”
I hesitated. I was still wary of her. If I was completely honest with myself, it was because she was the thinner, prettier best friend who had replaced me when Olivia and I went our separate ways after high school. Now, I feared that she would be taking Bobby, who was decidedly smitten with her, away from me too. But I wasn’t in high school anymore and should stop acting like I was. “I’d like that,” I said.
Bree and I walked downstairs to the coo of the dove. Maggie looked up from her computer screen. “You find him?”
“He wasn’t in his room,” I said.
“Do you want to leave a note for him?”
“No, no, that’s all right. I’m sure I will catch up with him sooner or later.” The last thing I wanted Kirk to know was that I was looking for him.
Maggie turned her beady stare on Bree. “I’ll need payment for your room tonight, Miss Butler.”
Bree’s beautiful face crumbled. “But the Blockens were going to pay for my room.”
Maggie’s face was hard. “Not anymore, they aren’t. You and Mr. Row will be paying. I have your bill right here.” Maggie slid a printout across the desk to Bree, who instantly paled when she saw the number. “But I don’t have that kind of money. That’s more than one of my paychecks.”
“If you can’t pay, I suggest that you start packing.”
Bree looked as if she was about to cry.
I patted her arm. “Come on, Bree, let’s go eat and sort it out.”
Bree folded the piece of paper and placed it in the large leather handbag looped over her arm. She followed me out the front door
Before the door completely shut behind us, Maggie called out. “And I don’t take out-of-state checks.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Bree and I walked to Pioneer Roast, a small coffee house on the square, which also served soup and sandwiches. We sat at one of the metal tables outside of the shop underneath a gauzy yellow umbrella that barely shielded us from the sun. All the other sidewalk tables were empty as most of the customers had chosen to dine in the air conditioning.
The thin waiter who I recognized as a Martin student took our order. A veggie wrap, an old stand-by, for me. Bree selected a chef salad.
“I don’t know what to do. Olivia promised me when I agreed to help her with the wedding that her family would pay for everything.”
“Well, this turn of events was unexpected.” I felt the need to defend my childhood friend. “She couldn’t have known what her parents would do if the wedding was canceled.”
“You don’t know everything I did. I addressed all the invitations. I made all the decorations for the church and the centerpieces for the reception. I spent countless hours on this wedding, and for what?” Bree’s voice was high-pitched.
I frowned.
She gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry; this has all been so horrible. I can’t believe this is even happening.”
“Maybe you can talk to her mother.”
But Bree wasn’t listening. “I don’t know where to stay. My flight doesn’t leave for two days,” She folded her paper napkin in a series of tiny triangles, unfolded it, and started again.
“Maybe you can stay with the Blockens,” I said, knowing full well that if I had been a nicer person, I would have invited her to stay with me. But truth be told, I wasn’t completely comfortable with Bree, and I already had an extra cat to deal with.
She shook her head, then looked at me. “Maybe Bobby will let me stay with him. He mentioned that he had a three-bedroom house.”
“Bobby?”
“He’s been so nice since I arrived. Don’t you think he’d want me to stay there? You’re his friend; you know him better than I do. What do you think he would say?”
Knowing Bobby, and how attractive he found Bree, I knew he’d say, yippee, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “You’ll have to ask him yourself,” I said, hoping that she wouldn’t.
The food arrived, and I dove into the wrap. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Bree picked at her food. Not one bite reached her mouth.
I used the food’s arrival as an opportunity to change the subject. “Dr. Blocken said that they are missing an engagement photo of Olivia and Kirk. Have you seen it?”
Bree shook her head. “No, but it’ll show up. Everything has just been turned upside-down this week.”
That was the understatement of the century.
“I hope it does,” I said. I bit into my wrap and chewed thoughtfully, barely tasting it despite my hunger. “I keep wondering how Olivia got to Martin that morning.”
“Oh?” Bree said, pushing a tomato to the side of the plate with her fork.
“Dr. Blocken told me Olivia didn’t have car, and, according to campus security, there were no strange cars on campus that day. The only logical answer is someone drove her there and left campus before security noticed.”
Bree looked up from her salad, eyes level with mine. “Your brother could have picked her up.”
“He didn’t,” I said, putting down my wrap. The sun pounded on my back. I started to sweat. We should have eaten inside with the sane customers.
“Have you asked him?”
“Not in so many words,” I admitted. “But I know that he didn’t. He was on campus long before Olivia got there.”
“How do you know that he didn’t leave and come back later with her?”
“I checked with security. His car never left.”
Bree’s cell phone rang from deep in her purse. The bag was enormous, and she placed it on the table’s edge in order to root through it. At the same time I reached for my water glass, knocking against it and sending it tumbling. Her possessions flew every which way, scattering on the cement walk.
“I’m so sorry.” I jumped up to gather her things.
Bree instantly dropped down beside me. “It’s all right. I’ll get it.”
I picked up her cell phone, which was now silent. Surreptitiously, I checked the caller ID and recognized Bobby’s cell phone number. Then, I reached for her bag, noticing a glint of metal. Curious, I righted it, peered inside, and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun.
“Here, give that to me.” She grabbed the bag, haphazardly threw her possessions in, then sat back down, her bag clutched to her chest as though she thought I’d steal it from her.
From the look on my face, she must have realized that I had seen the gun. “I need it for protection. I live alone,” she said defensively.
“I live alone too,” I said, “and I don’t pack heat.”
Was suburban Virginia so different from suburban Ohio that she really needs a gun to protect herself? I wondered.
“Is it legal?” I pushed what remained of my wrap to the far side of my plate. The sight of the gun had made me lose my appetite.
“Perfectly legal,” she said. “I have a license from Virginia to carry a concealed weapon.”
“But you’re in Ohio. Does that type of license cross state lines?” I honestly didn’t know.
“I don’t have to take this lecture from you.” She threw her napkin down on her uneaten salad.
