THE BODY IN THE SWIMMING POOL

An earsplitting shriek made me nearly jump out of my skin.

“My gown! It’s gone!” Becca pointed to an empty, crumpled silver garment bag lying in a ball on the floor in the kitchen.

“Someone stole the Scarlett O’Hara wedding dress?” I looked wildly around the room, but no gown could be found.

“First my grandmother, now me!” Becca pulled her hands through her hair and sat down, stunned. Then she stood up like a rocket and began ripping apart the room, searching in vain for the dress.

I helped her look until I heard a loud expletive uttered from the back of the house. Becca raced to the glass doors and slid them open with such force they jounced in their tracks. Keith stood rooted to the spot, his mouth open in a little round o as he took in the pool. Becca and I spilled out onto the sleek redwood porch, the obsidian rock garden calm and still.

As was the body in the pool. She floated face up in the gently bobbing waves, her gaze forever frozen on the brilliant sun above. She was clad in the famed wedding gown, the creamy silk and embroidered gauze now heavy and waterlogged. The voluminous dress fanned out around the body, appearing slightly blue-tinted from the pool’s waters....