Chapter 23

I figured I was going to die right there, just like Derek, my blood spattered in our walk-in cooler like so many red rose petals. I prayed that Larry or Amber Lee would find me, and that Liv would be spared.

Sarah Anderson might be petite, but I’d seen those muscles of hers, from all that working out in the gym. But I didn’t plan to go down without a fight. I looked around, grabbed a white rose from a pail nearby, and held it out like a weapon. Pretty pitiful, but at least the thorns might do some damage, maybe help Bixby identify my killer.

Sarah halted, looking confused at the long-stemmed rose.

A flash of movement came from the cooler door. Liv charged into the walk-in. Without stopping, she knocked Sarah to the ground.

Sarah squirmed and turned. She raised her hand, still clutching the knife, poised now to strike Liv in the back.

If my next actions were instinctive, I’ll admit to having strange instincts. I wrapped the rose stem around Sarah’s arm and tugged, trying to pull her arm and the knife away from Liv.

The thorns caught hold in her milky skin, sending long catlike scratches up her arm.

Sarah shrieked and dropped the knife before shriveling up into a ball.

I picked up the knife and looked around the back room before grabbing a full spool of two-and-three-quarter-inch poly satin ribbon with a taffeta embossed texture—in daffodil yellow.

When I got back to the cooler, Sarah struggled a little, but the fight was gone out of her and she mostly pouted and whimpered and nursed her scratches. I managed to hold her down while Liv used the ribbon to tie Sarah’s arms behind her and then secure her legs. Finishing up, I noticed, with a perfect bow.

I raised my eyebrows.

“Force of habit.” She stood and brushed off her hands.

• • •

Bixby looked ready to pounce but kept to his chair like someone had chained him down. He settled for drumming the table with his fingertips.

I answered his questions sweetly, with the demure smile Grandma Mae had taught us that every Southern lady should master.

Bixby slapped his hand on the table after I finished my statement. “Just promise me, Audrey, that you’ll never do anything like this again.”

“Do what? I was only trying to help a fr—”

“Do things like withholding evidence, confronting a suspect. Putting yourself and your cousin in such a dangerous situation.”

“Believe me, Chief, it will never happen again.” I might have punctuated that with an innocent flutter of my eyelashes. It was an easy promise to make. What were the odds that I would get tangled up in another murder investigation in Ramble? About the same as having a freak snowstorm on the Fourth of July.

Then again, with global warming . . .

Not that I regretted “sticking my nose in,” as Bixby put it. Jenny would soon be released, and a dangerous murderer now sat behind bars. Hopefully she’d get the psychological help she needed.

As I exited the interrogation room, I spotted the enclave huddled around Mrs. June’s desk. Liv gathered me in a hug and held on. “Are you okay?” I asked. The idea that she could have been hurt brought tears to my eyes.

She pulled back and met my gaze. “Yes, are you?”

Before I could answer, Amber Lee pulled me into a rocking bear hug. “Don’t scare me like that,” she said. “I can’t lose my friends and my job on the same day.”

Eric was next to hug me. “I’m glad you’re both all right. When Liv called, I nearly went out of my mind.” He put his arm around his wife and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know what possessed you to tackle the woman instead of calling the police.”

“There wasn’t time.”

“She’s right.” I smiled at her. “Liv saved my life.”

She hugged me again. “And you saved mine.”

“Still,” Eric said, “you are going to the doctor’s.”

“Yes, sir.” Liv saluted. “I will, but I’m fine. You see, I led with the shoulder.”

“I just want to make sure it didn’t hurt the—”

Liv interrupted him with a hand on his arm and looked to me. “Audrey, there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t expect this would be the place.”

“You’re expecting a baby!”

“Congratulations!” Mrs. June shouted, and then she and Amber Lee rushed Liv for a group hug.

As soon as Liv extricated herself, she raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Decaf, nausea, and you’ve been a tad . . . emotional.”

She cast me a warning glance.

“Just a smidge.”

Liv shook her head. “Well, Sherlock, maybe you do have the makings of a detective.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “Being a wedding florist is more than enough danger and excitement for me.”

“I still don’t understand what happened,” Amber Lee said. “I get that Sarah killed Derek. But why did she come after you?”

“She was after the pills I found. When Jenny took what she thought were sleeping pills, she was actually taking Sarah’s antipsychotic meds. Once I found them, Sarah decided the trail would lead to her. And also, I’d figured out that she was the mysterious woman with the red hair.”

“But she’s a blonde,” Eric said.

“But we found the red wig in her locker at the health club,” Mrs. June said. “Incidentally, that’s also where they found Jenny’s missing engagement ring. Apparently Sarah was too sentimental to dispose of them with the rest of the bloody clothing. There are traces of blood on both, so they’ve been sent to the state labs for DNA testing.”

“I guess hell has no fury, and all that,” Eric said.

“But it was more than that,” Mrs. June said. “Add in a deep-seated psychological problem and a love for money and all she thought it could buy for her.”

“Money?” Amber Lee asked.

“Another reason Sarah was so desperate to marry Derek,” I said. “She figured no one could send her away if she was Mrs. Derek Rawling. No one would dare.”

Mrs. June nodded. “And, according to her confession, she was also the one blackmailing Derek’s father. She figured if she couldn’t have Derek, she could at least have some of his money.”

“Blackmailing him for . . . ?” Amber Lee asked.

“For his son’s activities, as well as the old man’s gambling operation,” Mrs. June said.

“Which he’s now shut down,” Eric said. “Mr. Rawling plopped the file on my desk this morning. Said he wanted me to try to renovate and lease the place as a proper restaurant. I suspect any evidence of gambling has been removed.”

“Will the Rawlings be implicated in all this, do you think?” Liv asked.

Eric shrugged. “Money still does talk.”

“But I’m sure a lot of people won’t,” Mrs. June said. “I doubt there’ll be enough evidence to tie old man Rawling to the illegal gambling club. Only I suspect a lot of his high-profile political friends won’t stick around to find out.”

I nodded. “The party’s over.”

The outside door swung open. Ellen Whitney entered, dressed in teal from her head to the tips of her teal toenails jutting from her teal sandals. To see her looking more like herself made me smile.

I was shocked, however, to see her return my smile.

“It’s true, then?” she said. “My baby can come home?”

“Pretty soon,” Mrs. June said. “Bixby’s waiting on the papers authorizing her release.”

“Oh.” Ellen’s face fell.

“But she should be arriving any moment,” Mrs. June said.

Ellen glanced to the door, which opened on cue.

Jenny, looking a little gaunt, but minus the handcuffs and prison garb, walked in escorted by Ken Lafferty.

Ellen swallowed hard as she straightened her silver and teal necklace, then she ran to her daughter and embraced her, rocking her as they clung to each other.

Liv wiped away a tear.

And, despite my promise to Bixby, I knew I’d do it all over again.