Page 94 of Her Dark Lies
Malcolm trails me through the halls silently. I suppose that makes me feel better, but I have to admit, of the two crows, I like Gideon much better. Malcolm just plain gives me the creeps. I don’t know why. Some men set off your interior alarm bells. Maybe after Jack and I are properly married, and the police close the case, Malcolm will want a transfer. It’s not fair of me to even think it, he’s done so much for me, for Jack, for the family. But I don’t want to spend my life with him looking over my shoulder.
“Harper?”
I knock on the door, but there’s no answer. I turn the knob and the door swings open.
“Harper? Where are you?”
Nothing. The room is empty, but my wedding dress hangs on the open wardrobe door. It looks so lost, so lonely, drooping and empty. I approach it carefully, heart banging in my chest. I touch the fabric as if it might disappear at the lightest breath like a dandelion in the wind, using two fingers to pull apart the panels where the horrible word was scrawled.
The word is missing, cut free. But so is the entire back of my dress.
It’s still ruined.
I feel a pain start, deep in my chest. So much for the glorious wedding dress of my dreams. There’s no way Harper can recreate the look I’ve designed without this panel.
I swipe at my eyes and blow out a breath. Hey, they all tried to make this better. Ana, Henna, Harper, even Fatima. I should be grateful. Instead I want to burn it all down.
“Claire?” Katie slips her hand into mine. I hadn’t even heard her come in. “Harper’s not here. Ana came to talk to her, and then she left.”
“She texted me she had the dress issue resolved. Obviously, that wasn’t true.”
“It’s okay. You have that pretty back-up dress. It’s all about the ceremony anyway. Don’t let this break your heart. Maybe y’all could renew your vows next year and you can fix it and wear it then. We can have a huge party back in Nashville. It will give you time to put it back the way you want it.”
“I know. It’s just...” I collapse onto the edge of Harper’s bed. I can smell the Philosophy perfume she loves so much, the same scent she’s worn since I gave her a bottle for Christmas when she was in seventh grade, and it brings tears to my eyes. “Everything is so screwed up. Maybe this isn’t the right thing to do.”
“Marrying Jack, you mean?” Katie asks softly.
“Yes. God, I feel so disloyal saying that aloud. Maybe we’ve rushed into things. Maybe I need to listen to what I’m being told.”
Katie narrows her eyes. “What, exactly, are you being told?”
“The universe conspires against me, friend. Henna’s dead.”
“What?”
“She took a header down the stairs. Mom and I found her.”
Katie sits down cross-legged on the floor, the thick rug cushioning her. “That’s tragic. I kind of liked her. She had style.”
“That she did. It’s only...what if it wasn’t an accident, Katie? What if she was killed?”
“Then this is getting too weird, and you should bail. You don’t have to do this, Claire. There’s no rush, especially if you’re getting cold feet. You don’t need Jack and his family to promote your work anymore, everyone knows your name now. We can go back to Nashville, leave as soon as the storm breaks. I can move in, help you with the mortgage. You can paint, I’ll write. It will be like old days.”
Katie looks so hopeful. I fear there is no going back, though.
“First, we have to find Harper.”
“Yoo-hoo! Harper Lee, where are you, sweet bird?”
My mother knocks on the open door, starts when she sees the two of us. She doesn’t seem as intoxicated, her eyes are clear and she’s not weaving.
“Where is your sister?”
“I don’t know, Mom. She texted about my dress, but she’s not here. We don’t know where she is.”
“What’s happened to your dress?”
Wow, she really was checked out. Surely we mentioned this to her earlier.
