Someone else touched Aster’s elbow, and she turned around yet again, feeling dragged in too many directions. This time Rowan stood behind her, looking feminine and soft in a pale gray goddess dress. Aster froze, taking in the panicked expression on Rowan’s face. “What is it?” She knew Evan was here somewhere. Maybe James too. If they had done anything to hurt Rowan—
“Don’t make a scene, but we have an incident on the beach,” Rowan murmured between clenched teeth, gesturing with her chin toward the large windows at the back of the house. “Corinne’s in the ocean.”
“What do you mean, in the ocean?” Aster peeked over her shoulder. Mitch was listening, his face etched with concern. Aster felt a momentary stab of gratitude that he was such a good guy, and wouldn’t go posting this to the Blessed and the Cursed like most people would have.
“She’s just standing there, in the water, nearly naked,” Rowan sputtered. “Out where anyone can see. What is going on?”
Aster winced. She knew exactly what was going on.
“I’ll stall,” Aster promised Rowan. “You go get Corinne.” Then she grabbed Mitch’s hand and shot into the crowd. “And you’re going to help me.”
“Is your sister okay?” Mitch asked, stumbling to keep up with Aster.
Aster hurried him past a table of canapés. “My sister is a little uncertain about getting married,” she whispered. She rushed over to Evan, who was at the front of the room, speaking to a few guests. Aster wanted to slap the smug look off her face. James has been with tons of women, she was dying to say. You’re nothing special.
Evan looked over and raised an eyebrow at Aster.
“Why don’t we propose a toast—to Poppy?” Aster suggested.
Evan’s eyebrows knitted together. “That doesn’t feel appropriate.”
“On the contrary,” Aster said, pulling herself up to all of her five feet nine inches, “it’s entirely appropriate. Poppy was supposed to be the maid of honor tonight. She deserves to be remembered.” Seeing Evan’s hesitation, Aster pressed on. She pictured Rowan coaxing a dripping Corinne from the water. “C’mon. It will bring everyone together.”
Evan pressed her full lips together, then shrugged. “I suppose everyone is getting a bit restless.”
“Thanks.” Aster smiled sweetly. She clinked her spoon against a glass, and the room quieted down. “I’d like to propose a toast,” she sang out. “The first one is to my lovely cousin Poppy, whom we lost far too soon. Would anyone like to say a few words?” She was surprised when the first person to approach the front was her father.
Mason cleared his throat, then gazed into the crowd.
“As you know, our family has suffered a few tragedies lately.” He coughed and swirled his Scotch. “Tragedies that have shattered all of us. I didn’t speak at Poppy’s memorial, mostly because I wasn’t sure how. And though I don’t want to cloud this weekend’s celebration with the tragedy of her death, I want to say how devastated we all are to have lost her. It’s not enough to say that Poppy was gone before her time. It’s not enough to say that we miss her, even. There is a huge hole in all our lives, one that will never be repaired. The only thing that’s kept me sane since we lost her is my beautiful family—my wife, Penelope, and my two precious daughters, Corinne and Aster.” He glanced toward Aster, then her mother. “I love you girls with all my heart.”
A sigh rose throughout the crowd. Aster blinked, shocked. She’d never seen her father show so much emotion. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
Mason took a breath. “I hope there’s justice in this world,” he said, staring out at his now-rapt audience. “Poppy didn’t deserve the fate she was handed. And I want to make sure no one else does, either. So I want to make a toast to Poppy and to my other lovely niece, Natasha Saybrook-Davis, whose parents made the trip up here even though their daughter is still in the hospital. To Poppy and Natasha.”
He raised his glass, and everyone else copied. Clinks sounded throughout the room. Aster glanced at Mitch and touched her glass to his.
He shook his head in disbelief. “The FBI still haven’t figured anything out?”
Aster glanced at Foley, who stood in the shadows, drinking seltzer water. “I don’t think so,” she murmured.
“It’s just crazy, given the number of sweeps they do and the level of security in that building,” he went on. “I mean, I’m afraid to steal a pencil from the supply closet, there are so many cameras on me.”
Aster nodded thoughtfully. “I thought they would have caught something too, though I guess Poppy’s office is a little bit out of range from where the cameras are. And they said the surveillance tape from the lobby didn’t show anything suspicious. But it’s not like the killer apparated into the office and back out again. He or she has to be on there somewhere.”
Mitch looked at her curiously. “Did you just make a Harry Potter reference?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged, feeling a flutter in her stomach that she studiously ignored. “I just wish I could see the surveillance tape. Maybe she missed something.” She jutted a thumb at Foley.
“You do know there’s a backup file, right?” Mitch asked.