I nodded. “Yes, but now that you’ve explained it to me, I understand your need to go. For a sense of closure. To put those emotions finally behind you.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she said. And for the first time in our conversation, she looked across the table and met my gaze. A little shiver ran down my spine, because what I saw in her eyes didn’t bespeak a woman lacking confidence or struggling with inner strength. Instead, they were filled with cold determination. “Besides, I’m a different woman now,” she professed. “And I’ll never let another man hurt me again. Never.”
*
LATER THAT AFTERNOON at the expo, I kept busy trying to avoid my mother. Or, perhaps, trying to avoid my own thoughts of her dating Oscar Belmonte. Of all the men to pick! Not only was his ego as large as his waistband, but if what Pam said was true, he had a supersized temper to match. Knowing about his argument with Chuck had definitely moved him up a notch on my suspect list. For all I knew, Mama was dating a cold-blooded murderer. And my son was working in his kitchen!
Despite my best efforts to keep busy, my mind still reeled with worry as I popped into the Dragonfly Room to check on the progress being made for this afternoon’s crafting events. Inside, I found Ms. Lambert busy directing her minions through the rigors of setting up several crafting stations. The idea behind tonight’s events was to appeal to the more budget-minded gals who hoped to not only save some money but add a personalized touch to their big day.
As I walked between the craft stations, I found all manner of interesting—and sometimes intimidating—craft projects. I especially liked a giant faux floral arrangement I saw Ms. Lambert’s people haul into the room, dipping the tops under the doorway. It sported what appeared to be giant alliums created with large foam balls covered in those oversized cotton swabs found in medical supply houses. Each swab had been cut in half and pierced into the balls, the resulting flower “head” sprayed in pale lavender paint. The flowers were then attached to flexible tubes wrapped in green floral tape, accompanied with green silk leaf spears and towering high over the heads of attendees. Stunning!
I continued to circumvent the room, trying to gain inspiration for my own wedding, admiring hand-stamped placeholders, dried flower arrangements, and easy-to-do party favors. I felt in awe of the vision these crafters had for taking simple things and making them into extraordinary pieces of art, but I found my enthusiasm waning as my mind kept becoming sidetracked by thoughts of the case.
I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notice Flora until she tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, Lila,” she said. Her face was deeply flushed with tiny beads of perspiration forming above her upper lip.
“Flora. Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. But have you heard the news?”
“About?”
“Jodi. The judge denied bail. Said she was a flight risk because she didn’t have any ties to the community.”
“Oh no.” My heart sank. “What does that mean, exactly? Will she have to stay in jail until the trial? That could be a long time.”
Flora shrugged and removed a tiny lace handkerchief from the pocket of her sweater. She began dabbing at her face. “I don’t really know. The lawyers are working on it.” She swallowed hard. “I just feel so awful for Jodi. And now these accusations from Cora about Chuck and Jodi having an affair. Jodi’s torn up over it.”
“What’s Jodi have to say about Chuck being in her room?”
“She said he came by with one of her books saying that his friend was a huge fan and wanted to know if she’d sign it.”
“The Billionaire’s Bride?”
“Yes. A paperback copy. She said it was brand-new and still in a bag from the bookstore.”
“Probably from the Constant Reader,” I observed. “Did she remember who he wanted it inscribed to?”
Flora shook her head, refolded her handkerchief, and slid it back into her pocket.
I thought of another question. “Did she mention if he was wearing his tool belt when he came into her room? I was wondering how those nails could’ve got there.” And hoping the explanation had nothing to do with Lynn.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I didn’t even think to ask, but Bentley will probably fill us in on the details later. I do know that because of those nails, a couple of the agents believe Jodi is guilty.” Her eyes shot over to where Ms. Lambert was directing the efforts of a worker who sorted and arranged sprigs of dried flowers. “Ms. Lambert maintains that our author is bringing down her company’s reputation and affecting the expo sales. But the real tragedy is the damage to Jodi’s own reputation. She may not have much of a career to come back to after all this is over. Already her book sales have plummeted. Her editor called me yesterday. They’re considering pulling the contract on the new book she has scheduled to release this spring.”