“If it’s even real,” he said. “Fakes look pretty good these days.”
Mirror, mirror, on the wall . . . The slide show image of Miriam and Nell holding a mirror flashed behind my eyes. A chill crawled up my spine. “The mirror.”
“What mirror?”
“The day after the murder, Thelma Louise got loose, remember?”
“The goat.”
“I found that little hand mirror and it was all scratched up. Were you at the funeral?”
He nodded, and I suddenly knew the stare I’d felt in the church had been his.
“That mirror was in one of the slide show pictures.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You sure it was the same?”
“Beaded edging and ribbons? Absolutely. Nell would have needed to know if that diamond was real before she tried to sell it, right? Diamonds cut glass. She used a mirror to test it.”
“She could have damaged the diamond,” he said, as if that shot down my theory.
“Maybe, but she was probably willing to risk it. She had to know what she was dealing with, a thousand-dollar cubic zirconia or a forty-thousand-dollar diamond.”
“So she tested it a hundred times? That mirror was completely scratched up.”
Once would have been enough, so I didn’t have an answer to that.
“So you think Nate killed her because she stole the ring?”
“I think it’s a pretty good motive, only she hid the ring so he never got it back.”
“You’re assuming they were having an affair,” he said. “That would be the only way she’d have had opportunity.”
Yep. That was the one major unknown in my theory. If Nate and Nell weren’t seeing each other, then I was back to square one.
An hour later, the ring was back inside the navy velvet bag, the bag was wrapped in a napkin, and Will and I were sitting across from the sheriff. Sitting there with him, I could see why Mama might fall for him, but it still rankled me that he was keeping their relationship under wraps.
He rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. “You givin’ up dressmakin’ in favor of detectin’?” he asked me when I’d finished ticking off what I’d discovered about Nell and her death.
“No,” I said. “You giving up bachelorhood to make an honest woman of my mother?” I had to clench my fingers over the edge of the chair arms to stop myself from slapping a hand over my mouth. I couldn’t believe I’d said that aloud.
I knew I’d crossed a line, but now it was out there, good or bad, and I was on the edge of my seat wondering how the sheriff would respond.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Will murmured under his breath to me.
The sheriff’s leathery face was usually hard to read, but not this time. He looked shaken up, like he’d fallen off the bull, but he recovered soon enough. “Young lady,” he chastised, “you best get your facts straight before you go sayin’ stuff like that. I’d climb to the top of the water tower—you know a little somethin’ about that, don’tcha?—and tell the whole county how I feel about your mama, but she won’t have none of it.” He leaned forward, looking me square in the eyes. “I mean to marry that woman, Harlow, mark my words. Hell, I gave her a ring. Asked her a hundred times already. What does she do? Wears it on her right hand and says she needs time. I’ll give Tessa all the time in the world, but it’s not me keepin’ a lid on things.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather. Mama was the one keeping their relationship under wraps? “That’s an engagement ring you gave her?” How could she have made light of it? She’d been holding out for true love ever since my father left her alone with Red and me. Why would she hold back with the sheriff?
He nodded, giving a wan smile. “You go on and ask her when she’s gonna make an honest man outta me, why don’tcha.”
That conversation would take some planning, but I said, “Yes, sir, I’ll do that,” all the while holding my breath, worried he’d kick me out of his office.
“Since I have you here,” he said, “I wanna show you somethin’.” He slid a sheet of paper across the desk to me. “Take a look.”
He sat back, bending his leg to rest his right ankle on his left knee. Hoss McClaine wasn’t just any old cowboy. He was the sheriff, and he had a job to do. He’d let my rash judgment of him slide and had gotten back to the murder at hand. Just like that, I switched sides. What in the world was Mama doing holding out on a good man like this? I knew it would take some work, but one way or another, I’d get her to see the light.
I picked up the paper and quickly scanned the handwritten list, going through it more slowly the second time around.
Nell Gellen
Josie Sandoval
Ruthann McDaniels
Karen Mitchell
Lori Kincaid
Miriam Kincaid
Nate Kincaid
Keith Kincaid
Zinnia James
Wanita Lemure
Helen Abernathy
Dulce Sandoval
Maria Garcia
I slid the list back to him. “Assuming Wanita Lemure and Helen Abernathy were the ladies with Zinnia James, it’s everyone who was in Buttons and Bows the day Nell was killed. Except for Miriam and Keith Kincaid.”
“Keith Kincaid didn’t come in the shop?”
“He was still out of the country, as far as I know.”
“He got in right before the foundation gala,” Will said. “I was just getting there myself when he pulled up. Helped him carry a suitcase in.”
The sheriff steepled his fingers again, the creases on his forehead deepening as he thought. “That’s what he said, but he took a private plane and I can’t get verification that he was on the flight he says he was on.”
The scene from my shop played like a movie in my head. Lori Kincaid had stopped in the doorway as she came in, waving at someone in the Lincoln Town Car. What had Mrs. Kincaid said about their cars? No one could drive the Lincoln except . . . ?
Why hadn’t I listened more closely?
“What about Derek?” the sheriff asked.
“Until today, I hadn’t seen him in years,” I said, adding a silent Thank God. “Of course, I’ve been gone most of that time.”
“Haven’t seen him lately. Six months, at least,” Will said.
“And what about George Taylor?”
“I see him every now and then,” Will said.
The name was familiar. I racked my brain, miraculously pulling the information from somewhere in my memory bank. Ruthann had mentioned a George Taylor. “I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know him.”
“You’ve heard the name where?”
“It’s all secondhand information, Sheriff.” I didn’t want to spread rumors about a man I’d never met.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.
“The bridesmaids were talking about him,” I said, when it was clear I had no choice. “One of them said she heard through the grapevine that he’d said he and Nate had”—I made the same air quotes Ruthann had—“fished in the same pond. With Nell,” I added.
Will scooted his chair closer to the desk. “Do you think George has something to do with this?”
The sheriff shrugged. “Nell Gellen was pregnant by some mysterious boyfriend. You say she was gonna make an announcement at the rehearsal dinner. The thing is, Nate Kincaid admits he dated Nell in the past. He sat right in that chair,” he said, pointing to Will, “and swore up and down that they’d never had . . .” He looked away for a split second while he said, “. . . relations.” Then he said gruffly, “I don’t have proof one way or another, but I believed him.”