I was putting the finishing touches on the wedding favors when Thyme burst into the parlor, out of breath and red-faced.
“Do you ever just walk into a room anymore?” I asked mildly curious, as I cut lengths of pale blue satin ribbon to exactly eighteen inches.
“It doesn’t seem like it,” she admitted. “But I’m in a hurry for a reason this time. Do you want to see Rosemary in her dress?”
I placed the scissors and the ribbon on the table and stood. “Sure. These can wait.” I waved my hand over the table.
The three of us had spent a weekend last month making jars of rosemary sea salt and bottling tiny tubes of tupelo honey—a nod to Rosemary and Dave’s childhood homes, her name, and their personalities—a little bit salty, a little bit sweet. The favors were cute, personal, and would be yummy, if I did say so myself. And, perhaps most important of all, because we made them ourselves, they’d turned out to be fairly inexpensive. And Rosemary and Dave were stretching every dime in their budget as far as it would go.
Thyme said, “She looks gorgeous. And she wants you to see her in it. But we have to hurry so she can get started on her cakes.”
My eyes widened. “Get started? What’s she been doing all afternoon?”
She shook her head as we headed toward Rosemary’s room. “I know, it seems like she should be further along than she is. She did get the herbs from the garden. Oh, and I guess she ran into those bird watchers while she was out there,” she added casually.
My heart skipped a beat and my mind started to race. “She met the Simons?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
“I wouldn’t say she met them, exactly. She spotted them in the bushes, and they ran away. I think Kay might’ve scared them into thinking they’re not allowed to be out and about in public at all this weekend. I told Rosemary I’d talk to Kay about it,” she assured me.
I found my voice and said, “No! I’ll do it.”
Thyme gave me a strange look—probably because my tone had been so sharp.
I blew out a long breath and tried again. “I mean, I know you’re busy with the decorations. I’ll take care of it for you.”
“However you want to do it,” she murmured.
I rapped softly on Rosemary’s door.
There was no answer.
“Rosemary?” I called after moment.
Still no answer. We looked at each other. Then Thyme shrugged and turned the doorknob.
“Rosemary, are you decent?” she asked as she opened the door, and we stepped inside.
The empty garment bag lay draped over the back of the Queen Anne chair near the window. Rosemary’s sundress and shoes were in a tidy pile on the floor beside the mirror. But Rosemary and the wedding gown were nowhere to be seen.
The French doors that opened to the patio were ajar. A chill crept up my spine, but I kept my voice steady. “She’s probably in the bathroom.”
Thyme’s face was drawn, but she nodded gamely. “Right, the bathroom.”
We stood in silence for half a minute, waiting for Rosemary to come out of the bathroom even though we both knew she wasn’t in there. After a bit, Thyme pushed the bathroom door open and stuck her head into the room.
“She’s not in there,” Thyme informed me unnecessarily.
“Maybe she decided to go back to the kitchen—” I began lamely.
“Wearing her wedding dress?” Thyme countered.
I shrugged, but she was right. Rosemary would have changed her clothes first. And put on her shoes, I thought, looking down at the sandals by the chair. Everything about this picture was wrong.
Thyme walked over to the French doors. “And why are these doors open?” She pulled them shut with a sharp click.
“Maybe she decided she needed more lavender and took the shortcut across the lawn. Or maybe she just wanted some fresh air and forgot to close them before she went ... wherever she went. I don’t know, but I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
Thyme lowered herself into the chair and leaned back against the garment bag. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before meeting my eyes. “I’m not so sure. I thought someone might have been following me when I was in town. A guy in a suit. It really kind of freaked me out.”
“A guy in a suit? Do you mean a business suit?”
She nodded. “Right. He clearly didn’t belong in Seashore. He stood outside the candy shop the entire time I was waiting for Chelle to make the alterations. Then, when I left, he was across the street pretending to look into the old bank building. But he was watching me.” Her voice shook.
I crossed the floor and put my arm around her narrow, trembling shoulders. “Do you think he followed you here?” I asked gently.
She tried to catch her breath. “I don’t know. I took the shortcut through the Dowells’ farm. And I didn’t see anyone behind me. But I got a bad vibe from the whole thing. And now Rosemary is missing.”
“She’s not missing. She’s just not here.” Even as I said it, I fully realized how stupid it sounded.
Thyme ignored my statement entirely. “And she said there was some weirdo wandering around down on the beach earlier today.”
She said it under her breath, more to herself than to me, but I latched onto it.
“What kind of weirdo on the beach?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t want to talk about it. But it obviously bothered her because she was worried the bird watchers might run into him.”
I pursed my lips and thought, trying to make sense of it. “You don’t think she ... changed her mind, do you?”
“About getting married? No way,” Thyme insisted. “Not Rosemary. No, Sage, something bad happened. I can feel it.”
My heart sank. I sort of hoped she’d just taken off to clear her head, but I had to agree with Thyme. Rosemary’s disappearance seemed ominous—not to mention out of character. “Yeah, me, too,” I admitted.
“Should we call the police? Or tell somebody? Organize a search of the grounds?”
I took a few seconds to consider what I was about to do, but I really didn’t have any other choice. “Not yet. Come with me.”
I took her by the elbow and led her to the door. I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and came face-to-face with Rosemary’s fiancé.