Chapter Three

I knew this shower would be an event,” Renee Lambert said as she smoothed her hot-pink blouse, then gazed lovingly at her French-manicured nails. Her dog Kisses was asleep in his carrier at her feet. “Monica’s the only other woman in town besides me who knows how to throw a good party.”

Renee was one of Copper Mill’s most social butterflies and a member of the Faith Briar church board. The woman was meddlesome to say the least, and she always had an opinion, but over time, she had become Kate’s friend.

A soft breeze ruffled the floral scarf tied around Kate’s neck as she stood next to Renee and Livvy on the Mackenzies’ backyard patio. The warm air carried scents of lemon thyme, basil, and rosemary mixed with the sweet florals of petunias and geraniums that spilled out of marble urns around the patio. Wisteria vines climbed the marbled columns supporting the second-story balcony off the back of the mansion.

“Monica does do a good job entertaining,” Livvy added, smiling.

“Certainly. The Chattanooga and Knoxville newspapers always cover her charity events, you know.” Renee took a canapé from a passing tray and bit into it. “I’ve been to most of them myself. Monica and I are dear friends, you know.” She patted her carefully coiffed, salon-blonde hair.

Kate stifled a laugh. Monica was young enough to be Renee’s daughter, but it did make sense that Renee would know the Mackenzies. Renee and Monica had common interests, and both were active in Harrington County’s high-society circles.

Round tables on the patio were decked out in crisp white linens and exquisite baskets of pale green cymbidium orchids, chinaberries, and round, waxy leaves. Cloth napkins and gleaming silverware graced each place setting. Near the buffet tables, a large tub held ice and every variety of flavored waters, soft drinks, and sparkling cider.

Monica Mackenzie came out of the house. She looked stunning in a red-silk shrug over a tube top and a long, raspberry, orange, olive green, and black floral skirt. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a French twist, held in place by a large ornate gemstone clasp, showcasing her diamond-studded earrings. Tall and slender, she looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of Glamour magazine.

“Welcome, ladies,” Monica said, walking toward the edge of the patio where Kate, Livvy, and Renee stood.

“What lovely decorations,” Kate said to Monica, looking around at the patio adornments. She introduced herself and shook Monica’s hand. “It’s so nice of you to host such a beautiful shower for Jessica. I know she must be thrilled.”

“It’s no trouble at all. We love to entertain. That’s why we have this,” Monica said, waving her arm expansively.

The patio was large and beautifully furnished and had a state-of-the-art outdoor kitchen. Gordon Mackenzie owned a chain of high-end resorts, and the patio looked as if it could have been at one of his hotels.

“It’s exquisite.” Livvy nodded her approval. “I don’t remember this patio. Is this flagstone? You must have put in a ton of work to make it look like this.”

“We’ve totally redone the backyard in the past year,” Monica said, smiling. “It was a lot of work, but it’s worth it. I just love being able to have people over.”

“I’m sure you throw wonderful parties.” Kate searched Monica’s face, looking for some hint of guilt about the trust fund, but Monica’s smile remained fixed as she played the role of the perfect hostess. A moment later, Gordon called her from inside the house, and Monica hurried away.

Livvy excused herself to find Danny, and Renee wandered off to talk to Paul about getting new choir robes, so Kate wandered to the edge of the patio overlooking the valley.

Soft classical music accompanied hushed voices in the background. In the distance, a horse whinnied. Glancing around the expansive landscape of Gentian Hill Manor, Kate felt as if she’d been transported to a distant place, far from the western slope of the Tennessee Appalachian Mountains. Livvy had said it reminded her of an English country estate, but Kate thought the scene was more like a hillside in Tuscany.

Beyond the patio to the south, a carpet of manicured lawn sloped down through an apple orchard heavy with bright red fruit. Below the orchard, the land dropped away to a terrace of silvery green olive trees. Past that, curving back toward the west, a Greek-styled amphitheater was cut into the hillside. Quarried stone steps formed semicircular tiers of seats leading down to a stage. Copper Mill Creek and the town below filled in the background.

A perfect setting for a party. An unlikely setting for a crime, though, Kate thought as Jessica’s pilfered trust fund came to mind. And yet someone within the sphere of this lovely estate could be the thief.

“What do you think?” a soft voice asked behind her.

Startled from her reverie, Kate glanced over her shoulder and saw the petite young woman who stood half a foot shorter than Kate.

“I was just thinking about you,” Kate said. “It’s beautiful. I can see why you want to get married here.”

Wisps of Jessica Mackenzie’s hair blew across her face. She tucked the strands behind her ears, and Kate noticed the hint of sadness clouding her blue eyes.

“It’s changed a lot since my mother died.”

Kate smiled. “How so?”

“Mama grew the most amazing roses,” Jessica said, sighing. “They smelled so sweet. We had a gazebo over there.” She pointed toward the north where several levels of terraced land held long arbors overgrown and shaded by intertwined grapevines.

Clusters of grapes so dark they looked black hung down through the lattice framing. Four levels down, next to the amphitheater stage with its Grecian columns, a waterfall cascaded over a jumble of marble slabs into a large rectangular marble pool. Beyond, royal blue flowers carpeted the hillside. Kate guessed they were wild gentians, which grew in the area, although such a profusion of flowers must have been cultivated to look so perfect.

“We had a porch swing with big soft cushions in the gazebo. I used to sit there and read while Mama and Bertie, our gardener, worked on her roses. Mama had old-fashioned gardens with snapdragons and sweet peas and daisies, and a kitchen garden too.” Jessica let out a deep sigh. Kate wasn’t sure if it held nostalgia or sorrow, but she suspected both.

“Obviously, Monica has gardens too,” Jessica said after a pause, “but they’re different. Mama’s flowers are all gone, except the blue gentians. I think Monica had to leave them ’cause my grandmother named the house after them. But I’m glad at least they’re still here. I have a feeling Bertie insisted on it.”

“Did Bertie help out with the renovations?”

“No. Even though he retired a few years back, he offered to help, but Anthony—he’s the new gardener—and Monica refused.” Jessica shrugged. “I felt bad for Bertie. He and his wife, Flora, retired after Monica came, and I never understood why. They’re still active and sometimes seem to miss their time here.” She looked around the backyard. “They’re both coming today.”

“I imagine it’s been hard for you to see all the changes they’ve made,” Kate said, “but I’m sure your father wanted Monica to feel like this is her home.”

Jessica sighed. “I guess. I used to dream of getting married in the gazebo. But the landscaping is pretty. It’s just...different.”

Planning her wedding was obviously bringing bittersweet memories of her mother to the forefront of Jessica’s mind. Kate decided to change the subject.

“So the wedding will be held here on the patio?”

Jessica nodded.

“Monica is arguing for the amphitheater, but I think that’s overkill. I mean, we’re not trying to put on a show. We just want a simple ceremony.”

“How many people will be attending?”

“Trace and I sent out a hundred and twenty invitations, but Monica sent that many more. Her parties are legendary, so I expect a crowd. She plans to put tables around the pool for a dinner reception. That’ll be pretty.”

“I gather Monica’s helping you plan the wedding?” Kate asked.

“That’s one way to put it.” Jessica laughed.

Kate raised an eyebrow.

“It’s fine. I didn’t have time to do much planning with finals and moving home and all. She’ll put together a nice party.”

Kate turned her head and saw Jessica’s father off to one side talking with Paul and Trace and a couple of other men. She didn’t see Monica anywhere.

“I’m just thinking of Trace’s family. He grew up on a farm in Kansas, and all of his relatives are coming for the wedding. I don’t want them to be uncomfortable, you know?”

Trace turned toward them, and Jessica waved at him.

“Go on,” Kate said. “We’ll talk later.”

Jessica smiled her thanks, then went to meet Trace, who was walking toward her. He put his arm around Jessica’s waist, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. Kate couldn’t help but smile at the happy couple.