Yellow Rose Mysteries 02 - A Wedding to Die For Read Online Free PDF Page A

saw him this morning. He always kept his blond hair short, but this time the barber had left little more than stubble on his head.
    My cop escort cleared his throat and said, “Uh, ma’am?”
    The woman looked up and Jeff stood, his jaw working his ever-present gum.
    “Hey, how you doing?” he asked, coming over to me.
    “I still have a pulse—unlike someone else here—so I think I’m in good shape,” I said.
    He gripped my upper arms and kissed the top of my head. “You’ve had a rough day, kid.”
    I felt the tension in my neck muscles melt a little when I smelled the combination of cinnamon gum and aftershave unique to him. He took my hand and led me to the sofa. I sat, grateful for even a less-than-adequate cushion for my sore patoot.
    I smiled at the woman and said, “Hi. Bet you’ve had a tough day, too.”
    She did not return my smile. Her crossed legs were long enough and her features attractive enough that she could have been working a catwalk in New York rather than sitting here ready to interview a witness. “Thanks for your patience, Ms. Rose. Jeff tells me you were employed by the bride.”
    Jeff? I thought. They’d certainly gotten friendly in an hour’s time.
    He must have read my expression and quickly offered an explanation. “Quinn is an old friend. She honed her skills in Houston PD before taking the top job here.”
    “Great,” I said. “So is that Captain Quinn or—”
    “Sorry.” She reached over Jeff and offered a hand in a greeting. “It’s Chief Fielder. Seacliff PD. Quinn is my first name.”
    Chief? Wow. She looked so young.
    I gripped her slim fingers and offered a firm handshake, one I hoped said “I can throw a horseshoe with the horse still attached,” even though that was not how I really felt. I felt small and . . . well, scared. But my daddy always told me to never show weakness when I was afraid, that it would only make things worse.
    Fielder had a yellow legal pad on her lap and several pages were already turned back. “Jeff tells me Megan Beadford hired you to find her biological mother.”
    “That’s right.”
    “So you didn’t know the rest of the family?”
    “Actually, I only just met them last night at the rehearsal dinner.”
    “I’m not sure I understand. Did you attend last night and today in your capacity as an investigator?”
    “No. I was a last-minute replacement for the wedding book-slash-birdseed handler, the one who went into labor a month early.”
    She smiled, which softened her features, made her already attractive face prettier. “That’s what your sister told me.” She then made note of my answer on her yellow pad. “And by the way, we let your sister leave. Apparently a patient of hers was in some sort of crisis. She took your car and said you should catch a ride home with Jeff. Now, to the issues at hand. You had been making inquiries about Megan’s biological mother, correct?”
    “Yes, but our professional relationship is not common knowledge. I’m here as a friend.”
    “Not common knowledge?” She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.
    “Megan wanted my inquiries kept private. She felt her family would not be happy about her wish to find her birth mother.”
    “Really?” She scribbled some more. “There was tension in the family?”
    “Maybe some.”
    Jeff said, “Any conflicts at the rehearsal?”
    “The rehearsal itself went fine,” I said. “But once the wedding party and families bellied up to the open bar before dinner, everyone on Megan’s side suddenly seemed to have issues .”
    “Issues?” Fielder said.
    “The cousins weren’t speaking—I know because I sat between them at dinner. And the best man, Holt McNabb, brought in a TV and set it in front of him on the table to watch some college basketball game. That pissed off Mr. Beadford. He and McNabb went to a corner and Mr. Beadford seemed to be raking him over the coals. This upset Sylvia and—”
    “I get the picture. But these sound like