By eight o’clock Saturday morning I was in line at Espresso Yourself, anticipating my caramel latte. I’d been up late taking care of Mama, so I was eager for my morning caffeine hit. Especially since today was sure to be the busiest day at the expo. Not only was the weather cooperating—sunny, crisp, and most importantly dry—but Ms. Lambert and her crew from Southern Belles Bridal had planned an event that was sure to draw a crowd—a bridal fashion show! And without any author presentations scheduled, I’d be able to just sit back and enjoy. I thought back to the dress I’d seen just this week, the simple white sheath, timeless and so classy, and hoped they’d chosen it for the fashion show.
A baby’s cry drew my attention to the young mother in front of me, who jostled a fussy toddler on her hip as she waited for her coffee order. Makayla returned to the counter with what looked like a double shot of espresso. “Did Jackson have another rough night?” she asked, taking and swiping the woman’s credit card. It always amazed me that Makayla knew so much about her customers. She made everyone who walked through the door feel special.
The woman shook her head. “I’d say. Can’t wait until this tooth comes in.” The baby was sucking his fist and whimpering, big tears running down his pudgy cheeks.
Makayla reached over and tickled the baby’s arm, clucking and making little goo-goo sounds. She was rewarded with a brief but toothy grin. “Now, don’t be complaining too much, Mama. Just look how precious that smile is!” And just like that, the child jammed his fingers back into his mouth and started fussing again.
The mother chuckled and took her coffee cup from the counter. “Are you volunteering to babysit tonight?”
Makayla threw up her hands. “No way, girl. I’m just here to provide your morning cuppa joe, not babysitting services.”
We all laughed as the woman hugged her precious little bundle and made her way out the door.
“Boy, do I remember those days,” I said, moving up to the counter.
Makayla turned to steam my milk, speaking louder so I could hear her over the whirring of the machine. “And it only got easier from there, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha, ha.” Makayla finished steaming and started mixing. “Did that missing photo ever turn up?” I asked her.
“Photo?”
“The one Rufus Manning took.” I’d tossed and turned throughout the night, the whereabouts of that photo bugging me. With my agent duties and Mama getting sick and everything, I hadn’t much time to question Rufus about it the day before.
Makayla scrunched her face. “No, it never did show up. And Jay says he didn’t throw anything away.”
I’d asked Trey about it over breakfast, too, and he’d said the same thing. Which led me to believe that the break-in at Makayla’s shop was less about vandalism and more about eliminating that photo. The killer must have wanted to make it difficult for the police to trace the ring. But who and why? Chuck’s fiancée, I thought. After all, the ring would link directly to her. Was the woman I’d met at the funeral, spoken with, even tried to comfort . . . I shivered. Had I really been that close to a vicious killer—a desperate woman, fallen victim to Chuck’s abuse, who decided to stand up for herself . . .
“Hello, Lila?” I snapped back to focus to hear Makayla say, “I was saying that I missed you last night.” I must have looked confused. She raised a brow and clarified, “At the lingerie show?”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I’d forgotten that I told Makayla that I’d meet her at the Dragonfly Room. We’d planned to try out the spa items and maybe even get a mini makeover. “Mama got sick and I had to take her home.”
She stopped mixing and turned her full focus my way. “Althea? Is she okay?”
“Just a little stomach bug, or maybe something she ate. I took her home and got her settled into bed. By the time I left, she was doing much better.”
Makayla let out a relieved sigh and went back to mixing. “Oh good. Well, you missed out on my big purchase.”
“Your purchase?”
“Uh-huh.” She finished my latte and capped it off. After handing it over, she reached under the counter and brought out a small shopping bag. Then she glanced around, just to make sure the place was empty, before pulling out a daring lace teddy. “What do you think?”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Makayla!”
She stepped back and held it up to herself. It was a gorgeous, deep green satin with black lace and dainty straps.