Chapter 1:
Thursday, Newspaper Office
"Stella," Dad pleaded as he looked at his coworker over his glasses.
She put up a hand. "Don't, Russ. I don't want to hear it." Her voice quivered as if she were barely holding on.
Dad's brows shot up, and the cup of coffee I'd brought to my lips hung in limbo for a moment as I studied the woman who'd worked with Dad for decades now. She was like a second mom to me. And for a woman on the eve of her wedding, she looked ready to come undone. In all my years of knowing Stella MacInerney, I'd only seen her like this three times.
Each time was when she'd lost a husband. Stella had the unfortunate history of marrying men who dropped dead within a year of saying I do. She was an active woman who picked unhealthy men, believing she could make them healthier. Sadly, many had been unhealthy for too long.
"All I was going to say, Stella, was that you don't have to be here. I know you have a lot to do, and I can manage the paper by myself for a few days," Dad said.
Stella glanced at me. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to work out my dad's ulterior motive.
I cut to the chase. "You look overwhelmed, and that's not like you."
She heaved a heavy sigh while glancing around the bullpen, the open space that made up the center of the paper. Back in its heyday, this was where the reporters would've worked. But now it was just Dad and Stella and a handful of freelancers.
Today, Dan, my dad's IT guy who managed the website and all things digital, was banging away on his laptop, upgrading something or other.
Stella wagged a finger at him. "Last time we did an upgrade, the system crashed and we were scrambling. That's why I feel overwhelmed. I can't handle going through that again right now. I wish we would have waited to do this upgrade."
"No crashing is going to happen today," Dan argued. "I've tested and retested. And I wish you had a little more faith in me, Stella."
She snorted. "Oh, like you have faith in me. I overheard Chuck say that you placed a bet that Tom wouldn't last three months. I don't think betting on the lifespan of my future husband is a funny sport, Dan Dix."
Dan had the good sense to look ashamed. "I didn't start the betting, and I didn't know it was going on until Chuck asked me if I wanted in on it. Besides, It’s not just Tom's longevity we’re betting on. There are odds on you, too, and Sam."
Stella looked confused. "Me? Why?"
I sat up straighter. "Me?"
Dan tapped away on his keyboard, giving Stella a quick glance. "I don't know the specifics, Stella. Something about how his wife died mysteriously. No one knows anything about her. As much as people like Tom, they wonder if you're not the one who will be eighty-sixed this time."
Stella gasped and clutched her hands to her chest. "That's just awful. People are heinous."
Dan continued to work. "Like I said, I didn't start it, just heard about it."
Stella looked at me and Dad. I put up my hands in surrender. "I didn't place a single bet, and I knew nothing about the bets on you." I was insanely curious about the bets on me, however.
Dad did the same, hands up in denial. "Me neither. So callous." He shook his head in disgust. Outside of this one event, Dad was known to put a few dollars on the latest town bet. Stella's upcoming nuptials were all anyone in town could talk about. And I was telling the truth. I hadn't placed a single bet. But Precious had, and I'd put in my two cents. I was giving Stella and her karma the benefit of the doubt and believed this one would stick.
I cleared my throat. "So, Dan, what kinda bet is out there on me?"
He pecked away at the keyboard. "Just if you and Leo will be each other's plus-one."
"That's a dumb bet," I said. Never mind that Precious and I had belabored this topic to death last night. Question was, did I want to be a plus-one?
Stella shrugged. "Well, it’s really about whether you two will do something other than give each other smoldering looks from across the room."
Dad snort-laughed and quickly covered his mouth and pretended to cough.
I made a face that I hoped portrayed my disgust. "We don't give each other smoldering looks. We sit on my balcony and drink beers. We have a professional relationship and a blossoming friendship."
Stella gave me a kind smile. "I didn't bet on you either. When you're ready, you'll know, and I would never be so insensitive as to ignore that." She shot glares at the guys.
Dad cleared his throat. "Speak of the devil. Leo's coming." Dad jerked his head toward the large window at the front of the office. Sure enough, Leo was taking large strides toward the building. He looked to be on a mission, a frown on his face.
"Maybe he's going to Chuck's," I said. Chuck's was the name of the market next door.
Dan stood up and said, "I've got two dollars that he's coming here to talk to Sam. Maybe to ask her to the wedding."
I wadded up a piece of paper and tossed it at him. "I'm already going to the wedding, dumb-dumb. I'm Stella's maid of honor."
He paused mid-sit. "Shouldn't it be matron of honor? You were married before."
I wagged a finger. "Except it wasn't a legal marriage, so technically, I was never married. Therefore, maid of honor."
Dan dropped into his chair with a huff. "Lost that bet," he mumbled.
The bell above the front door jingled as Leo entered, and I went to meet him.
"Hey," I said.
He was dressed in his uniform. His sleeves rolled up. His eagle tattoo glaring at me. Like it always did.
"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?" He looked around the office, nodding at Dad, Stella, and Dan back in the bullpen.
"Sure, we can use Dad's office for a second." I waved for him to follow me. Once in the room, I closed the door behind us.
Leo stuck his hands on his hips, ducked his head, and sighed. "I have a favor to ask, and I need you to not pepper me with questions afterward."
I grimaced. "You know me. That's going to be hard." I was half joking.
He looked up at me through his brows. "I need you to dig deep with this one. It’s not something I want to talk about."
I leaned against Dad's desk and crossed my arms. "I'm so curious. Just ask, let's go from there."
He grunted and began pacing the room. "It's not fair for me to ask you to do something blindly. I just hate rehashing something from the past." He seemed to be talking more to himself than me. I let him make a few turns around the room before interrupting him.
"What is it you need me to do?"
He stopped and faced me. "I need you to be my date at the wedding."
Because he hadn't come in and just asked me to the wedding, I knew this request was loaded with a story I desperately wanted to hear. "You know the town is betting on whether we'll go together to this wedding."
He closed his eyes and groaned.
"And why do I feel like this is because you need cover?"
He looked at me. "I dated Stella's wedding planner in college."
I pushed off the table and spring toward him, clasping my hands with excitement. "Oh my word! You can't just tell me that and leave me hanging. You dated in college?"
"Ha, ha."
"I mean, in high school you dated Penny Bradshaw and Tulani Whitehorse, but those were casual. Nothing more than a handful." I wagged my finger in his face. "But this, you asking me to be your plus-one is because there's been more than a handful of dates. How long?"
He swallowed and looked away. "Two years."
I gasped. "You dated a girl two years and kept it a secret from even Hue? Your own brother?"
He shrugged. "It wasn't serious. It was college."
I shook my head and moved back to sit on Dad's desk. "You're a moron. I bet it was serious to her."
He met my gaze. "Yeah, I learned that the hard way. She knew I was coming back here, and I knew she wanted to live large in Seattle. I thought it was a no-brainer that our relationship was just casual dating. But can we not talk about it anymore? I need you to tell her we're, you know..."
"Dating?"
"Engaged."
I burst out laughing. "What? Engaged?"
He shrugged.
"Oh, I see. Because you dated her for two years and ended it, she'll rightly believe that dating doesn't mean a whole lot to you. But engaged. That's the real deal."
He grimaced "So, you in?"
I held up my bare ring finger. "I'm the kinda girl who needs something big and sparkly."
He grinned. "No, you're not. But you're the kinda of girl who deserves something big and sparkly. Just tell her it’s getting sized. So, we good?"
I nodded. "I can't wait to tell Hue."
He rolled his eyes and moved to the door.
"Hey, how did she get to be Stella's wedding planner if she lives in Seattle?"
He turned to me. "I'd like to know the answer to that too.”
"You know, that frown you were wearing when you came in has turned upside down. I'm glad I could be of assistance."
"Oh, shut up," he said with a chuckle.
We exited the office, and he waved to the gang. "See you all later at the rehearsal."
I waited for Leo to leave before I said to Dan, "Better go place a bet on me and Leo being a plus-one because that one's about to come true."
"Already did," Dan said.
Dad and Stella looked at me in question.
"I'll explain later. Quick question, Stella. How did you find your wedding planner?"
Stella said, "Online. One of those wedding sites where you put in what you're looking for, and people contact you. I was surprised she was willing to travel to do the planning, but she was. She's lovely."
"I'm sure she is, " I said, tongue in cheek.
Dad interrupted. "I was just telling Stella that bets, website upgrades, neither of those are reasons for her to be here when she could be doing what I'm sure is one of the million things on her list."
I agreed. "Dad's right. The rehearsal is in a few hours. You have time to go do something—anything—else. Maybe a quick massage, if you don't have anything on your list."
Stella liked to keep lists. She was so good at it, she would make them for others as well. Over the years, I've had my fair share from her.
She crossed her arms. "Tom and I have a couple’s massage scheduled tomorrow before the wedding." She raised her hand to stop any comments. "There will be a curtain between us so he can't see me. I'm no dummy. I don't play fast and loose with superstition. I'll take any and all luck I can get. And there are only two things on my list for today. Both will be taken care of before the rehearsal." She faced me. "I think it's great you and Leo are going to the wedding together. You need to move on."
Everyone looked at me. I was holding my coffee again, so I took a sip. I made it a long sip.
"Samantha. I would really love to see you out dating again," Stella said.
I put my mug down and groaned. "Dating again and bringing a date to a wedding are two different levels in a relationship."
Dad cleared his throat. "I agree with what you just said. But I agree with Stella. Time to get your feet wet again."
I raised my brow. "Feet wet? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" It was a stupid joke, but I did that when I was nervous. And talking about relationships made me nervous. "I'm just not sure I'm ready. So let's just accept a plus-one at the wedding as a good first step, please?"
Stella crossed her arms and studied me. "Perhaps a little part of you blames yourself for picking Carson, who was such a superb con man."
I grimaced. "Well, it’s a little hard to trust my radar. I mean, I bought into Carson hook, line, and sinker." If I were to repeat my mistake, wouldn't that make me a two-time dummy?
"You can trust Leo," Stella said. Never one to mince words.
I had no response to her statement. She was right. I knew I could trust him. But love and friendship are different. And weirdly, trusting him with my life was easier than trusting him with my heart. Leo was, after all, a guy who'd essentially shunned me in high school even though his kid brother is one of my best friends, and our paths crossed all the time.
I picked up my mug and took another long and leisurely sip. Dad chuckled. Stella was cut off from saying anything further when her phone rang. She stepped away to answer it.
Dad said under his breath, "You can run, Sammy, but you can't hide. You're gonna have to answer these same questions soon enough. This isn't the Regency period where a widow was expected to mourn for a year. Everyone here knows what Carson did; no one wants to see you unhappy."
"I'm not unhappy. Weirdly, I'm happier than I've been in a long time, before and during Carson." And it was the truth. After all, I had this new fabulous life of being a PI because of Carson.
Stella had moved to her desk, fifteen feet away, so when she gasped, everyone in the room paused and looked her way. "Oh no! This can't be happening."
Dan said, "Jeez, I hope it’s not what I think it is. I'm curious, though, to know if anyone had placed a bet today."
"Dan, that's awful. I'm sure nothing's happened to Tom." I rose and moved to Stella. Dad was right behind me.
She hung up the phone, leaned against her large desk, and began yoga breathing. This was Stella trying to get control.
"Stella?" Dad asked. "Everything okay?"
She shook her head. "No, Russ."
Dad and I glanced at each other, him likely afraid to ask about Tom as much as I was.
"It's the girl I hired to smudge the wedding garden and pavilion before the rehearsal tonight. She can't do it. She had a family emergency. How am I going to find someone on short notice?" She covered her face with her hands. "The bets, and now this. It’s like love is always fighting me."
I rubbed her back. "I think I can find someone to smudge on short notice, Stella. Let me take care of this for you."
She looked up from her hands, moisture in her eyes. "Who?"
I jerked my head in the direction of the coffee shop Java Magic. "I think this is something right up Lark Ogilvy’s alley." Lark was relatively new in town and the owner of the coffee shop. Her specialty was coffee combinations brewed to help with people's auras. "And if she can't do it, I'm sure between Leo, Precious, and I, we can find someone who smudges."
Stella nodded, sucked in another deep breath, and slowly blew it out. Afterward, she patted my cheek. "I think I freaked out there for a moment. It’s not like me to not be able to solve a problem. It’s just that this wedding means so much to me. I want everything to be perfect."
Next to her, Dad leaned against the desk. "Which is why you shouldn't be here. We're a distraction. There has to be something else you can do."
Stella smiled. "Actually, the custom garden statue I had made for Tom is ready, and I want to bring it to the rehearsal. He'll get a good laugh. It's two garden gnomes hugging with a heart between them. It stands about this tall." She held her hand up from the floor to three feet.
Tom owned a landscaping business. Gardens were his jam, but gnomes were not something I'd seen in any of his designs.
Stella continued. "It was delivered to Bruce's house, and I wanted to do it up a bit with little white lights and such. Maybe I should go get it and do that." She glanced at her watch. "Then I can bring it to the rehearsal."
"I think you have enough time before we have to meet at the venue," I said. "Do you need help moving it?"
She shook her head. "I'll call Bruce and tell him my plan. Oh, but can I borrow LC? The statue won't fit in my car." Stella drove a MINI Cooper.
I dug in my pocket and handed her the keys to LC, my temperamental Wagoneer, named after pioneers Lewis and Clark, because both they and my Wagoneer had seen some adventures. "I just got the brakes fixed. They're a tad touchy. You barely have to tap them to make them work."
She grabbed me in a hug. "Thank you." Then gave me the fob to her car.
I added. "And I'll go to Lark and see if she'll smudge. We'll meet you at the rehearsal."
Stella clasped her hands in delight. "Sounds like a plan."
We sent her on her way. Glad to see her happy once again. I waited until she was out of sight before turning to my dad, a lingering question on my mind.
He held up a hand. "Before you ask, no. I don't know how Tom's first wife died. They moved here after it happened, and he's never talked about it."
Stunned, because I got my insatiable curiosity from him, I asked. "How is that possible? You know everything. What did she say when you asked?"
He shrugged. "I didn't ask. It's none of my business."
"Do you think Stella knows?"
"I'm going to have to trust that she does."
I bit my lip. Conversations like this seemed to come back to haunt me.
