Traci stood on the box, Dorothy at her feet, pinning the hem of the wedding gown. She couldn’t believe that London Hutchins had taken those scraps of paper from her mother’s binder and created something of such timeless beauty. A delicate lace butterfly created a collar at the neck, and the lace came down over her chest to a satin bodice that subtly looked like the wings of a butterfly, extending down the tight waist and into the skirt. Lace butterflies interspersed throughout the lace of the train. Simple sleeves kept the dress elegant and tasteful. The satin ended at the elbow, and the same butterfly lace went to her wrists.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt more than pretty. She felt beautiful, stunning, like someone stepping out of a fairy tale story.

“Oh, Traci. I can hardly believe you had this dress made for me.” Michelle sat on the brocade couch and sipped a cup of tea. “In all my dreams, I never actually imagined I’d be doing this as a mother. I assumed as a grandmother, but never a mother.”

Traci couldn’t help but smile at her, though it hurt her face to do it. “I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself,” she said sincerely, wishing she could pay someone to stand in for her. “I just hope the dress is ready in four weeks’ time.”

“We’ll be pushing the clock, but it will get finished,” Dorothy promised. She stood and put the pin she’d had in her mouth into the holder on her wrist. “I need you back in here on June fourteenth for your final fitting.”

“Another one?” Dorothy made a circling motion with her fingertip, so Traci turned her back to her. She felt Dorothy’s fingers go to the fasteners on the back. Soon, the tight satin loosened, and she gripped it at her chest to keep it from falling all the way off.

“Yes. No matter what you do, you’ll gain or lose some weight in the next month. Trust me. I’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Listen to her,” Michelle said, setting her cup and saucer on the table in front of her. Traci noticed the slight tremor that had appeared in her mother’s hands this week. “I never argue with Dorothy about a dress.”

Dorothy gestured toward the dressing room as she turned to Michelle. “You, my friend, are a gem, and I am so thrilled to be helping with Traci’s dress.”

In the dressing room, Traci carefully stepped out of the dress, peeled off the awful two-inch heels, and gratefully put her uniform back on. With her lunch break nearly over, she still had to swallow a sandwich before getting back to work. Her boss only had so much patience for this whole wedding business. She needed to tread carefully.

Knowing that one of Dorothy’s clerks would do something with the dress, she left it draped over the bench and stepped out of the room.

“What a difference, huh?” Dorothy said with a grin. “It’s like night and day.”

She laughed. “It feels like it, too. I think, what a relief to get my uniform back on.” She pulled out her phone and made a notation to come back. “I’ll be here on the fourteenth.” Looking at her mom, she asked, “Do you need me to take you home?”

“Oh, no dear. I’m going to sit here for a while. Watch a couple of fittings. I miss it.”

“Okay, Mama.” She paused with her hand on the door handle and looked back at her mother. She didn’t like the breathless way Michelle had talked all day. Had she said no because she was too tired to walk home, or did she honestly just want to sit there?

Dorothy obviously saw the look on her face because she came closer. “I’ll take care of her. You go on now.”

Nodding, Traci walked out of the shop, listening to the bell jingle on the door as it shut. She walked down the street, nodding to people she knew, and turned the corner to go to the sheriff’s office. As she stepped inside, she slipped her hat off her head and greeted Anna May at the reception desk. “How’s it been?”

“Lucas is with Sheriff and Tiny down by the river. ‘Nother one of them Jelly drugs. Man jumped off his own roof. Word is he broke his neck.”

This chalked up death number three in Cooper County due to what the DEA had nicknamed Jellies. They’d arrested three other people who had taken the drug then threatened someone they loved. The drug did something terrible to the brain, and most people who took it eventually turned from violent thoughts to suicidal thoughts.

“Do I need to go out there?”

“Sheriff said he’d call you direct if they needed you. For now, though, he needed someone to cover the high school release. Tiny’s on the schedule.”

“Got it.”

All the deputies took turns directing traffic for twenty minutes in the mornings and again in the afternoons when the Cooper County High School released. In the two years since they started doing it, the incidents of fender benders, road rage, and accidents had dropped dramatically. She never really minded the duty, because it gave her a chance to get good eyes on so many of the high school students—especially the ones old enough to drive.

At two minutes after three, she got out of her car and walked into the intersection, stopping oncoming traffic on both sides and directing the first wave of traffic out of the school. At the first lull, she stopped the school traffic and gave the oncoming cars a chance to get by. She waved, blew her whistle, gestured, and nodded, enjoying the time. On this Friday before Memorial Day, the sun beat down on her hat-covered head, and the students’ excitement at the notion of fleeing the school for a long weekend resonated in the air.

While she had both arms raised, she felt the phone in her back pocket vibrate. She couldn’t lower her hands, though, so she ignored the incoming call. Ten minutes later, when most of the cars cleared out of the parking lot, she pulled her phone out on her way to her vehicle. She saw she’d missed a call from the dress shop.

Anxiety crept up her neck as she dialed the number. Had something happened to her mom? Did she have another heart attack? By the time Dorothy finally answered, she’d worked herself up to a full-blown panic. “What’s wrong?” She demanded by way of greeting.

“Uh, nothing. Your mom is fine. I wanted to talk to you about what you’re doing with your hair.”

Confused, she shook her head to clear it. “My hair?”

“At the wedding. London designed a hat to go with your dress.”

“Oh.” Honestly, she felt like people overused the word wedding way too often in her presence lately. “I’m not doing anything on it. I’m sure it will be styled somehow, but no veil, no hat.”

“Great! Thanks.”

Staring at the phone for several seconds after Dorothy hung up, she finally tossed it on the seat next to her and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She honestly didn’t know how much longer she could do this.

Then she sat up. “Four weeks,” she said, reiterating that to herself. She knew exactly how much longer she could do this. One month.

Travis held the pads strapped to his hands higher. “Again,” he directed, bracing his body for the kick. “Higher.”

Traci jumped and spun, her right leg striking out, hitting the pad dead center. The force of the kick pushed his arm backward, and he had to take a step back to maintain his balance. “Good,” he said, lifting the pads. “Again. Higher.”

She flexed her knees, balancing on the balls of her feet. Her face glimmered with a sheen of sweat, and her hands curled into fists as she raised them again. He watched the flare of her eyes a split second before she shoved upward, spinning and kicking out with her right foot accompanied with a powerful yell. The solid smack rang through the empty room.

“That’s it,” he said, slipping his hands out of the straps. “Perfect.”

He felt as proud of her for hitting the target dead center as when he’d perfected that same kick. He walked over to the shelf where he stored the equipment and set the pads in their proper place. When he glanced at the clock on the wall, he turned toward her. “We have to go. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Go where?”

“Choir practice.”

She looked at the clock, too. “Oh, right. I forgot it was Wednesday.”

“You coming?”

She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. He could see the internal debate, knew how exhausted she’d felt lately between work, wedding, and her mother. Go to choir practice or go home? He could hear her thoughts almost as if she spoke them.

“Sure,” she said, surprising him. “Let me run to the back and throw something on instead of this.” She gestured at her dobak. “Won’t be a second.”

He’d changed before she came over. Usually, he closed at six on Wednesdays, so he had time to close up the school and eat something before heading to church. Tonight, though, she’d wanted to work out, and he’d happily obliged her.

He went to his office, making sure he turned everything off, left everything secure, and turned out the light. He locked his office door just as Traci came out of the locker room. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a bright pink surfing tank top she’d bought when she attended a law enforcement conference in Florida.

“All set?” he asked.

“Yep.”

They stepped out of the building together, and she paused with him while he locked the door. Holding hands, they strolled down Main and turned left on Fourth. Three blocks later, they walked up the steps of the church.

He’d joined the choir as soon as he joined the church. He had always enjoyed singing. With a father as a full-time music director, church choirs had played a big part in his younger years. His mother sang in the church choir even after his dad died. The first time he heard Traci sing, he’d tried to convince her to join the choir with him, but it had taken almost a year. The first time she went with him, he could barely contain his excitement at sharing this vital part of his life with her.

She admitted to enjoying it way more than she’d thought she would. The pair of them had even sung a couple of duets as Sunday specials a time or two. He believed his father would have very much enjoyed the sound of her voice and would have approved of their relationship.

They walked through the side door and to the choir room. About half of the regular people were there, an average attendance for a last-week-of-school night.

They stopped at the cubbies and grabbed their books, then made their way to their appropriate seats. Marla Thomas, who sat to Traci’s right, leaned toward her. “Girl, I know you’re getting excited. Just a little over three weeks away!”

The pained look that crossed Traci’s face almost made Travis chuckle out loud. Traci smiled weakly. “Yeah. So excited.” Giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up sign, she looked at Travis. “Go wedding!”

He actually laughed more. The poor long-suffering bride. “It will be four hours out of your life.”

This time, she gave him a genuine smile. “I know.” Blowing him a kiss, she turned back to Marla. “How’s your week been?”

“Okay. Well, almost. Listen,” she leaned closer, and Travis could barely make it out when she said, “can we meet after practice?”

Traci looked around, then nodded. “Sure. Everything okay?”

Marla pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Found something in Andrew’s room. Want you to confirm that it’s what I think it is.”

Travis watched a look of concern cross Traci’s face just as the choir director went to the podium. “Good evening,” he said, rustling some papers. “Let’s go ahead and open in prayer.”

Traci leaned closer to the high school sophomore. “Listen, Andrew, this is bad stuff. This isn’t just a good time. This is poison. It messes with your mind in a way you’re not looking for. People are dying.”

He wouldn’t look her in the eye. She could see the muscle ticking in his jaw, and he kept swallowing as if trying to prevent tears. “We aren’t trying to get you into trouble. We’re just trying to locate the source of the Jellies here in Cooper County. That’s it. No one has to know you said anything. You have to trust me.”

His head shot up. He looked all around, the whites of his eyes almost glowing against his dark skin. “I don’t trust you. You think this drug will kill me? What do you think they’ll do to me if word gets out?”

She shrugged and sat back. “I’m just having a casual after-church chat with my friend and her son. I’m not on duty. I’m not in uniform. I’m just looking for your supplier. What your mama does to you after is up to her.”

Marla leaned toward her son. “Son, you better tell her right now, or your life is over in ways you cannot even imagine.”

He swallowed three times before he finally said, “EJ Crawford.”

Traci calculated names and faces. “Son of—?”

“I don’t know.” He slapped the table and sat back. “He’s one of them Crawfords that live out off of Miller Farm road. He said he got it from his uncle’s stash.”

She reached over and covered his fisted hand in hers. “Listen, Andrew. Thank you. No one will ever know you gave me a name. But you have to promise me, in return, that you leave this stuff alone.” His eyes shifted, and she squeezed his hand and gave it a small shake. “Promise me. I know there’s this curiosity inside of you to try it, but you’ll hurt yourself or hurt your mom, and I know you don’t want to do that.”

A tear escaped his control and streamed down his face as he glanced at his mother, who sat quietly next to him but slightly behind him. She reached over and put a hand on his shoulder but kept her promise to Traci and didn’t say another word about it. Traci let him go and sat back. “We love you, Drew. I remember holding you the day you were born. Our moms go way back to high school. Trust me. I’m not trying to make things hard for you. I just want you safe.”

He looked her in the eye, and another tear slipped down his face. “I promise.”

“If you get word that anyone suspects you, come find me.” She looked at Marla. “You did the right thing. Let me know if you need anything.” As she stood, she looked at her watch, then at Travis. “I don’t think I can do dinner tonight.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just walk Marla to her car.” He brushed his lips over her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” She waited about ten minutes after they left, then called Ben Hughes. “Hi, Sheriff. Sorry to bother you so late.”

“What’s up?”

“I just got information from a reliable source that EJ Crawford took Bubba’s stash. Probably at some point between him locking his wife in the bathroom and us arriving. He’s the supplier here in town.”

After a moment’s pause, the sheriff asked, “Who’s your source?”

“Confidential. Kid I know.”

“Hard to get a warrant with an anonymous CI.”

“Confidential, Sheriff. I gave my word.”

Traci could almost hear Sheriff Hughes purse his lips. “How old is EJ?”

“Eighteen or nineteen. He’s a senior this year.”

“Adult, then. In a school full of minors. Okay.” Another long pause. “We’ll get with the school before students arrive in the morning. Search his locker. Let me call Principal Jefferson and see what I can arrange. Principal can search without a warrant.”

“Roger. School starts at seven-forty. What time do you want to be there?”

“Let’s do six-forty-five.”

“You got it.”

By the time she left the empty church classroom, the rest of the building was dark. She guessed whoever locked it up thought everyone had gone. Security lights guided her to the side door. She just hoped she didn’t trigger an alarm when she opened it.

Safely outside, no ringing alarm bells, no sudden flashing of blue lights, she walked home. She thought it unlikely that anyone could identify Andrew as their informant, but she worried slightly that his behavior would somehow clue them in. All she could do was pray for him, at this point, and hope he came to her if he needed her.