Death at a Premium (16 page)

“Sam, I will. It’s just that there’s so much happening that I don’t have much time to think about the wedding. I mean, it’s going to be in September, and right now I have more immediate problems. Not more important,” she added, seeing the beginning of a frown appear in his face. “More immediate.”

“I sort of hoped that you wouldn’t think of our marriage as a problem,” Sam said softly, turning back to his computer.

“I . . . it’s just the wedding, not our marriage. I don’t think of it like that at all. She leaned over his shoulder and stared at the screen. “Ghosts?”

“I was doing a little research about your problem.”

“My problem?”

“Yes. The Bride’s Secret Bed and Breakfast ghost. It’s pretty well known. I found it mentioned on more than one Website about supernatural events in this state.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But that’s not what’s interesting. The ramifications of a known ghost are amazing. There was actually a case in New Mexico where an insurance company refused to insure anyone working in a building the ghost of an Anasazi child is said to inhabit. Stupid, but a disaster for the company located there, of course,” he said scrolling down the screen.

“Isn’t disaster a little strong?” she asked. “I mean, maybe the workers would work without insurance.”

“They might, but the owner of the company would be liable if something tragic happened to one of them.”

“Even if the owner couldn’t get—or afford—insurance?”

“Sure. And there was a case in San Francisco of a ghost said to inhabit an elevator in a warehouse that was scheduled to be turned into condos. The liability question was such that the owner finally tore down the building and sold the land to a developer for a parking garage. I haven’t been able to find out if the garage has a ghost,” he added, continuing to scroll.

Josie might not be able to make decisions about their wedding, but she decided on the spot to keep Island Contracting’s insurance problems to herself.

NINETEEN

J
OSIE WAS ALMOST always optimistic when she woke up. The sea air coming through her open bedroom window was fresh and sweet smelling. After a night’s rest, her back no longer ached from the previous day’s exertion. Work that she loved was waiting to be done. She would see the man she loved . . . and then she remembered the events of the previous day: the visits of both Mr. and Mrs. Higgins, the calls from her insurance company, the unsolved murder, Risa and Carol’s risotto competition, and Sam’s comments about their wedding.

She sat up in bed, all remaining shreds of optimism vanishing as she remembered her son’s unexplained behavior the night before. Everything had started out as usual. His arrival had been greeted with enthusiasm by Risa and Carol; each had plied him with risotto demanding, not too subtly, to know if hers was the best. Tyler had been busy eating and tactfully responding to their pressure when Sam brought up his senior project. Tyler had changed the subject to his summer job. Then Carol mentioned seeing him talking with the new woman police officer. Josie couldn’t ignore that, but when she questioned him, Tyler had refused to answer, making a joke about older women. Tyler had been raised to be honest and forthright. The night before he had been neither. His one word answer (“around”) to her inquiry of where he had been all afternoon was only slightly shorter than his explanation for what he had been doing (“not much”). Usually voluble, Tyler’s reticence had worried Josie until she fell asleep.

Now Urchin, Tyler’s Burmese cat, wandered into the room as Josie swung her feet to the floor. She frowned. Urchin preferred her son’s company and usually remained by his side or in his lap when he was home. If Urchin was here, Tyler probably wasn’t. Pulling on a ragged flannel robe, she followed the cat back to the room that served as living room, dining room, and kitchen in her small apartment. The open door to her son’s bedroom revealed only his unmade bed.

“Tyler?”

Urchin meowed by her feet and Josie frowned. Tyler wasn’t expected at work until nine—where had he gone? Years before they had developed a system of communicating through messages left on the worn chalkboard hanging near the stove, but the board revealed only the shortage of eggs and mustard in the refrigerator. Josie headed back to her bedroom to get dressed. The previous night’s dinner had been delicious and filling, but she had a lot of hard work ahead of her. A trip to Sullivan’s was in order.

On the drive to the north end of the island where Sullivan’s was located, she decided it was time to take control of the situation. Her son had given her a little notebook that was attached to her truck’s dashboard, and she ripped off the top sheet, taking a moment to wonder if they could really be out of ketchup as well as mustard. She found a tiny pencil someone had brought from an Atlantic City casino, and prepared to get organized. She would make a list, which would focus her mind as she ate.

But it was, Josie realized, impossible to focus on one thing when surrounded by people interested in discussing something else. Of the dozen or so diners sitting in the small luncheon area of Sullivan’s, ten had opinions about either the murder, the ghost at the Bride’s Secret Bed and Breakfast, or some aspect of Josie’s upcoming nuptials. By the time her breakfast had arrived at her table, Josie was more confused than ever.

Her young waitress stopped to chat after delivering her meal. “I was talking to Tyler and he said you haven’t bought your wedding dress yet. Is that true? I’m going to wear something long, white, and silky,” she added, apparently thinking it was an unusual concept. “And I’m going to buy it in New York City! There are stores on Madison Avenue where the most beautiful wedding dresses in the world are made—at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Josie was momentarily taken aback by the realization that girls her son’s age were dreaming about weddings; then she had a small epiphany. “You would go all that way to buy your wedding dress? Really?”

“Of course, it’s the most important day of your life, you know.”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“I told Tyler that, and he said that you would never go so far. He said he didn’t think you were that interested in being a bride, and that you’d probably get married in something you bought right here on the island.”

“Tyler doesn’t think I’m interested in being a bride?” Josie repeated “Really? He said that?”

“Yes, and I told him . . .”

“You know what?” Josie asked, putting her napkin in her lap. “I’ve been thinking about it, and Tyler is wrong. I am going to go to New York City!”

“How romantic!” the waitress gushed. A shout from the cook recalled the girl to her job, and Jose was left alone with her meal. Josie picked up her fork, stabbed the egg on her plate, and watched as the yolk ran into the pile of bacon strips. “And, who knows, I may even get around to looking at wedding gowns,” she muttered, finishing her thought as she stuffed an overflowing fork into her mouth.

Normally a fast eater, Josie polished off her breakfast in record time. She left a large tip, since unintentional good advice could be as valuable as a well-considered suggestion, and hurried back to her truck. She couldn’t leave the island until she had talked to a few people.

She hadn’t been sure how her workers would feel about her sudden departure, but they all seemed perfectly happy to continue to work on their own. Sam, though surprised, was happy when she explained that she was going to be shopping for a wedding gown— he even offered her a sheet of directions from the island to Manhattan that he had made for his mother to use on her frequent trips back and forth. Josie tucked the page into her jeans, kissed him good-bye, and hurried to her apartment. The thought of leaving without seeing Tyler caused her some momentary qualms, but Risa, also thrilled with the thought of her wedding gown shopping, promised to feed and care for Tyler until she returned.

And it was not as though she was going to be gone for long, Josie reminded herself, changing into the one pair of black slacks that she owned. With a clean white shirt and black leather sandals, she felt she was properly dressed for her task. She wound the three gold mesh bracelets Sam had given her for Christmas around her wrist and noted the sparkle of her large diamond engagement ring. Pausing only for a trip to the local ATM, Josie was off the island and on the highway in record time.

Her optimistic view of what she was doing lasted for almost fifty miles. The next hundred miles were haunted by doubt. By the time she was stuck in a traffic jam in the middle of the George Washington Bridge, she would have turned around and run home, if only she could have. By the time she arrived at Betty and Jon’s Upper East Side apartment lobby, she was starving, tired, and wishing someone else had waited on her at Sullivan’s. She had called Betty from the road and the doorman was expecting her. He explained that Betty was waiting in her apartment. “Go on up. Fourteen E. The elevator’s to your right.”

Josie followed his directions and was immediately reminded of the fondness elevator designers had for mirrored walls. Her disheveled appearance was reflected and multiplied over and over. Her clothing, which had seemed simple and sophisticated at home, looked simplistic and wrinkled here. Her hair could use washing and the skin on her nose was peeling. She refused to consider her fingernails.

She forgot all of this when the door of Fourteen E opened and her best friend flew into her arms.

“Josie!”

“Betty!”

“Mommmeeeee!”

The last was wailed from inside Betty’s apartment.

Betty laughed and pulled Josie through the door. “Come on in. JJ’s going through a dependent stage, poor dear. I have to be in sight constantly. But he’s ready to go with us,” Betty continued, pointing to the plush stroller where JJ Jacobs sat waving a Ziploc bag stuffed full of Cheerios. As Josie approached, his fat face wrinkled up and tears began to drip down his chubby cheeks.

“He’s afraid of strangers—it’s just a phase and I’m sure he’ll love you as soon as he gets to know you.” She turned to Josie. “Do you have to use the bathroom before we go?”

“Go where?”

“To buy your wedding gown.”

“How do you know about that?” Josie was mystified.

“Let’s see, Risa called right after you did. She said to tell you that Tyler is spending the night with Sam and Carol and that you should not worry about feeding Urchin. And she suggested that with your hair color cream might look better than pure white.” Betty stood back and examined her friend from head to toe. “Risa has great taste and, you know, she’s probably right.”

“But . . .”

“Then Carol called. She wanted you to know that Tyler can stay with Sam all week long if you want and that you shouldn’t hurry back.”

Betty pulled a long list from a large quilted bag sitting on a nearby chair. “She also wanted to make sure we go to the right stores—she actually knows the personal shoppers at Saks, Bergdorf’s, and Bendel’s, although she suggests we try a small boutique about six blocks from here on Lexington as well.”

“She probably knows at least one person at every boutique on the Upper East Side,” Josie muttered.

Betty grinned. “That does sound like her. I was thinking we should start up at Vera Wang’s, but maybe we should go to the place Carol suggests instead.”

“But I . . .” Josie didn’t finish yet again. Betty flung her arms around her neck again and gave her a hug.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here to buy your dress. I’ve been feeling, well, sort of left out. My life here is wonderful, but I miss the island, and being an important part of planning your wedding is almost like being back there for a bit. How long can you stay?”

“I really have to get back to work. You know how it is. The job we’re on is huge. Remember the Bride’s Secret Bed and Breakfast? It’s being turned into a private home.”

“And Island Contracting has the job! That’s wonderful! You’re going to have to tell me all about it.”

“So I can’t stay here for more than a day. But I do have to use the bathroom,” Josie said.

“Oh, you’ve been on the road for hours—of course! That door right there, and be sure to check out the sink. It’s the latest thing.”

Josie rushed into the small room and closed the door behind her. Buying a wedding gown had only been her excuse to come to New York. She had really come to the city hoping to talk to Jon Jacobs about her insurance situation. Jon, a criminal lawyer and good friend of Sam’s, might have a solution to her problem. She had thought they might talk, he would make a few calls, and then she would go back home. She realized now that her plan had been completely unrealistic. She should have stayed home working with her crew instead of standing in her oldest friend’s bathroom preparing to disappoint her. Josie looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. Sam had said they were obligated to include their friends in their happiness, and she knew Betty would adore helping her look for a dress. It wasn’t as if they had to actually buy one. In fact, if Carol was right, wedding dresses took months and months to manufacture, so there was no way Josie would be able to buy one here anyway. Josie pulled her shoulders back and smiled at herself. She would give Betty this shopping trip, spend the night if she must, and get up early the next day and drive home. Surely the traffic would be light in the early hours of the morning. She could probably make the trip in half the time it had taken her to arrive. Having a plan, she turned and opened the door.

Betty and JJ were waiting. The broad smile on Betty’s face made Josie glad of her decision. She chose to ignore JJ’s scowl.

“Where do we go first? Saks?” Josie had become familiar with the huge edifice on Fifth Avenue the winter before when Carol had dragged her through department after department trying to get her wardrobe in shape for a New York City winter. At least she would feel at home there.

“I suppose . . .” Betty sounded reluctant.

“And you mentioned Vera Wang.” If Josie was doing this for her friend, she was determined to get it right.