I slid the list back to him. “Assuming Wanita Lemure and Helen Abernathy were the ladies with Zinnia James, it’s everyone who was in Buttons and Bows the day Nell was killed. Except for Miriam and Keith Kincaid.”
“Keith Kincaid didn’t come in the shop?”
“He was still out of the country, as far as I know.”
“He got in right before the foundation gala,” Will said. “I was just getting there myself when he pulled up. Helped him carry a suitcase in.”
The sheriff steepled his fingers again, the creases on his forehead deepening as he thought. “That’s what he said, but he took a private plane and I can’t get verification that he was on the flight he says he was on.”
The scene from my shop played like a movie in my head. Lori Kincaid had stopped in the doorway as she came in, waving at someone in the Lincoln Town Car. What had Mrs. Kincaid said about their cars? No one could drive the Lincoln except . . . ?
Why hadn’t I listened more closely?
“What about Derek?” the sheriff asked.
“Until today, I hadn’t seen him in years,” I said, adding a silent
“Haven’t seen him lately. Six months, at least,” Will said.
“And what about George Taylor?”
“I see him every now and then,” Will said.
The name was familiar. I racked my brain, miraculously pulling the information from somewhere in my memory bank. Ruthann had mentioned a George Taylor. “I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know him.”
“You’ve heard the name where?”
“It’s all secondhand information, Sheriff.” I didn’t want to spread rumors about a man I’d never met.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.
“The bridesmaids were talking about him,” I said, when it was clear I had no choice. “One of them said she heard through the grapevine that he’d said he and Nate had”—I made the same air quotes Ruthann had—“fished in the same pond. With Nell,” I added.
Will scooted his chair closer to the desk. “Do you think George has something to do with this?”
The sheriff shrugged. “Nell Gellen was pregnant by some mysterious boyfriend. You say she was gonna make an announcement at the rehearsal dinner. The thing is, Nate Kincaid admits he dated Nell in the past. He sat right in that chair,” he said, pointing to Will, “and swore up and down that they’d never had . . .” He looked away for a split second while he said, “. . .
“But Josie told me you were gunning for Nate. You should have seen her. She was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”
The sheriff cocked his head and gave a mocking laugh. “I’m not a fool, Harlow. I didn’t
Right. “No, sir, I guess you wouldn’t. What about Nell’s will?”
“What about it?”
“I heard she had one. Did you find it?” And if it was never signed, then what?
“She had one, dated a few months back. No family to speak of,” the sheriff said, “so it should hold up. She bequeathed her fifty percent interest in Seed-n-Bead to Josefina Sandoval.”
Mixed emotions swirled through me. The inheritance meant another motive for Josie, or a stable future in case things didn’t work out with Nate. “Does she know?”
He flipped his wrist to look at his watch. “She will in about half an hour.”
“What about the murder, Sheriff?” Will asked.
“Nate Kincaid,” he said flatly, “has an alibi.”
Everything screeched to a halt. “He does?”
The sheriff nodded. “He was on a flight out of DFW at six thirty that night and got back just before nine the next morning. He couldn’t have killed Nell. He was in the middle of something big the day she was killed.” He puckered his thin lips and whistled, low and prolonged, giving Will and me both pointed looks.
Will leaned forward. “No kidding. He’s a whistle-blower?”
“Made a few phone calls,” McClaine said. “Definitely looks that way.”
I followed the unraveling thread of what they were saying. “How can he be an informant for something? Wait—you mean he’s blowing the whistle on his own family’s company? About what?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” the sheriff said. “It’ll come out. Eventually. But it means he’s no longer a suspect.”
My mind reeled. So someone in the Kincaid family was doing something illegal and didn’t know Nate was about to blow the whistle. It meant the wedding could go on, but Josie was walking into a mess of trouble with that family. Not to mention that someone was still getting away with murder.
Chapter 45
I’d spent the remaining days before the wedding putting the final touches on the wedding party’s dresses. I attached another hundred pearls to Josie’s gown. Doublechecked the stitching on Ruthann’s zipper. Measured and remeasured from the waistline of Karen’s dress to the hem. Slip-stitched the hem of Miriam’s frock. Pressed Holly’s dress.
There was nothing left to do beside the final fittings. At last the day before the wedding had arrived. This was it. The bridal party would be here in minutes. I couldn’t believe I had gotten all the dresses done in time. My hands trembled from exhaustion; would I even be able to hold a needle?
I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. One by one, images of the bridal party popped into my head, all perfectly turned out in the garments I’d created. I heaved a relieved sigh. I was becoming more and more sure that being able to imagine and design the perfect dress for someone was my charm. Seeing each of them in my head released the kinks in my nerves.
