Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things Read online

  Neither of us spoke, and the sound of plastic and rustling satin covered the dull roar of blood pumping in my ears. We were working against the clock for Sylvia’s wedding, and we couldn’t afford to upset her.

  “It’s not here. I can’t believe it,” Lorea cried. “Of all the dresses to go missing, it would be Sylvia’s alternate.”

  My imagined conversation with the dressmakers took a drastic turn, but I slowly breathed in and out. “You know what? She’s going to love her first choice. You’ll steer her in the right direction. Maybe convince her it would be bad luck to try on the other dress when the first one was obviously designed for her.”

  Lorea’s face had red splotches, and she blinked her eyes to clear them.

  I pointed at the gown with the gaping hole. “Let’s concentrate on one problem at a time. You fix the hole. I know you can work with that diva. I’ll back you up.”

  I knelt next to the box and began tossing the packing paper back in, but I froze when I focused on something caught in the tape lining the bottom of the box. Leaning forward, I reached for the tiny pearl. Three more beads were stuck in the corner. “Did any of the other dresses have pearl beading?”

  “No, it was just that one.”

  “Let’s empty the box and see if we can find any more of these beads.”

  “Huh?” Lorea studied the bead in my hand and gasped as I picked up the others.

  A powdery residue hugged the corners of the cardboard. The packing tape glimmered in the light with the same fine particles.

  “What’s this?” Lorea held up a shiny piece of metal.

  My skin prickled with goosebumps. “That looks like part of a razor blade.” I closed my eyes, but not before the image of blood trickling down a knife point seared my consciousness. A foreboding sense of discomfort broke through my dam of positive thinking. A million negative outcomes flowed through my mind, and I felt cords of tension tightening my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes, commanding myself to stay in the present and focus on Lorea. “I don’t understand. Do you think our shipment was tampered with?”

  Lorea tilted the silver blade. “How fast can you get China on the phone?”

  Chapter 2

  Vintage Bridal Shower Favors:

  Five-Minute Lavender Sachets

  Lay flat one doily or lace-edged handkerchief, and arrange lavender buds in center. Bring fabric up around the buds and tie off with ribbon or string to form a small bundle of buds. Your guests will enjoy these unique favors, which can be used to refresh a drawer, a car, a closet, or even a coat pocket.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com.

  An hour later, my hands were still shaking from the tension radiating through my body. The dress-making company in China assured me that all the gowns had been shipped, so something must have happened in transit.

  I gripped the edge of the countertop and studied the gray and black flecks of paint. My customers didn’t know it was paint; my mother had helped me mask it to look like granite. The flecks of colors turned into so many dollar symbols before my eyes. With a shake of my head, I told Lorea, “They’re opening a case for investigation with the shipping company, and I’ll do the same from my end. They won’t charge us for the dress, but we won’t be seeing it anytime soon, either.”

  Lorea frowned as she snipped off a piece of thread. “So as long as Sylvia likes this dress, we’ll survive.” She continued working her tiny stitches to repair the hole in the gown.

  I knew Lorea was struggling to look on the bright side. That was usually my game. Rolling my shoulders back, I put on my best fake smile. “This is nothing we can’t handle, right?” I swaggered over to her side, flipped one of my blonde curls over my shoulder, and splayed my fingers, pretending to adjust a diamond on my left hand. “Beauty is no accident,” I said with a sniff.

  Lorea looked at me and laughed. She knew I was imitating Sylvia Rockfort, which made the situation even more hilarious because Lorea was usually the one poking fun at her least-favorite client. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

  The laughter zapped some of my stress, and I slid down into one of the office chairs we’d recovered with my signature teal, cream, and purple fabrics. “It really is strange to think that someone might have stolen that gown en route. How much were you going to sell it for?”

  “We weren’t sure because of the pearl beading, but I was thinking around six thousand.” Lorea smoothed the edge of the gown and examined it with a furrowed brow. “What do you think?”

  “You’re amazing.” I leaned forward and could barely make out the tiny stitches in the hemline. “No one will ever know the difference.”

  “You’d better hope so because Sylvia will be here soon.”

  “Okay, let’s stow these boxes first. We’re supposed to give them back to Colton as part of the shipping inquiry.”

  After I helped her haul out the boxes, Lorea called Sylvia so that she could prepare for her first bridal fitting.

  “She said she’ll try to get here before one o’clock.” Lorea replaced the phone and began a thorough inspection of each wedding gown.

  “Do you need my help?”

  “I got this.” Lorea’s fingers moved rapidly along the bodice of a dress, checking for imperfections.

  “Good. I’ve got some craft work to do before I run errands.”

  An hour later, my eyes were watering from scheduling several posts on the website I had created with my mom: mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com. It was a hit in the virtual sphere of crafting, recipes, and DIY wedding tips. My mom still couldn’t believe that people from all over the world flocked to the site where country girls from Idaho shared their penchant for spuds and crafts. A craft blog was my guilty pleasure but one that worked perfectly with my wedding planning certification. I had created the site to share my favorite things with everyone, not just those in wedding mode, and so far it had been a lot of fun. Mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com had also given me one more way to document ideas I could share with prospective clients.

  I read through the simple steps needed to create favors for a vintage bridal shower. The pictures of “Five-Minute Lavender Sachets” made with antique hankies or lace doilies matched up perfectly with the instructions. My readers would love the idea, and I thought Lorea might like to do something similar for Natalie Berlin’s bridal shower.

  Clicking off the site, I stood and stretched, ignoring the dull pain in the small of my back. “I’m going to the post office, bank, and a couple other places. Do you need anything?”

  “I’m certain we will both need chocolate by the end of the day.” Lorea’s expression was completely serious.

  “You read my mind. The Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory is one of my stops.” I grabbed my purse. “I hope I don’t miss our customer with the excited nostril.”

  Lorea laughed. “I’ll be sure to give you details if you miss her.”

  “I guess we should let Walter know that most of the shipment came through,” I said.

  “Good idea. I’ll give him a call.” Lorea picked up the phone.

  Walter Mayfield was the best jeweler in Ketchum. I had made it a point to check out his shop early on because I knew that part of being a successful wedding planner was in connections with other business owners. Plenty of couples visited Mayfield Diamonds, and Walter might be just the person to drop my name.

  Luckily for me, Walter and I had hit it off, and the older gentlemen had already referred some clients. In turn, I encouraged prospective brides to visit his store and view his fine creations. It was convenient that my shop was only two doors down from Mayfield Diamonds. When Lorea had taken a happy couple over to meet Walter nearly three months ago, she mentioned her dream of opening a wedding dress shop.

  A couple of weeks later, Walter told Lorea about his cousin Roland, who had connections with a clothing manufacturer in China. Elaborate wedding dresses were available for a fraction of the price, but they were still too expensive for Lorea’s meager budget.r />
  I ran my hand along the line of dresses now taking up space in the back room of my bridal boutique. The ten dresses we ordered had cost nearly eight thousand dollars. That was an incredible bargain, but with my savings already invested in a new business, I wasn’t able to front the cost. Walter offered to help Lorea get started by giving her a loan. He said that Roland would benefit, and he wanted to see her achieve her dreams.

  “Hmm. No one answers.” Lorea hung up the phone.

  “Maybe I can run over there and tell him on my way out,” I offered.

  “That’s a good idea.” Lorea smoothed the fabric on one of the gowns. “I have to keep pinching myself, Adri. They are so beautiful.”

  “It almost makes you want to get married, huh?”

  Lorea wrinkled her nose. “Not yet. But our brides will be happy.”

  “That’s right. When a bride-to-be sees these dresses, she’ll fall in love all over again.”

  Most of the gowns would be priced at around five thousand dollars each, but Sylvia’s dress flaunted a price tag of eighteen thousand dollars. We had special ordered it for less than twenty percent of the price she would be charged, which is why Lorea felt she could take the risk. With the profit from that one dress, she’d be able to pay back Walter and have enough cash to place an order for more. As long as Sylvia liked the dress and didn’t want to try on the missing gown. Banking on a diva’s nuptials was a risk, but as I examined another gown, I felt confident it was a risk well taken.

  Tinkling bells signaled a customer entering the shop as I headed for the back door. Lorea was entrenched in satin and tulle, so I dropped my purse and hurried out front. A man with neatly trimmed black hair stood by the window display. He was leaning over the elegant fondant wedding cake, his fingers barely brushing the soft-pink satin roses surrounding the second tier. The cake was a sample brought in by a bakery in Hailey, the town bordering Ketchum; the owner had hopes of being on my preferred associates list. Everyone who had seen the cake thought it was wonderful. Of course Lorea and I still needed to taste it, but that would have to wait until later.

  I recognized the man’s profile. My stomach flipped as I thought of our date Saturday night. Dallas Reynolds had waited on my table for the girls’ night Lorea and I had celebrated last Tuesday. When he asked me out, I surprised myself by agreeing. It was basically a blind date, and although I hated first-date jitters, I felt like we’d gotten through it quite nicely. He’d asked me out again for last night, but I had too much work to do, not to mention a bit of apprehension over treading into second-date territory.

  I straightened and flicked a piece of white thread from my black pants. “Dallas! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He turned and smiled. “I had to run some errands on this end of town and thought I’d drop by to say hello.” He cleared his throat. “That is, if you’re not too busy right now.”

  His green eyes were incongruent with his Asian features, and I found myself staring into them for half a second too long, just as I had on Saturday night. He raised his left eyebrow, and his smile widened. Immediately, my face felt warm.

  “I was just heading out to run errands, but I’d love to show you around.” It was flattering that he had stopped by to see me—that he wanted to get to know me. The tingles riding along my nerves weren’t unpleasant, but it had been a long time since I’d been on a second date. I stepped forward and motioned to the desk where I helped clients sort through fabric swatches for centerpieces, type fonts for wedding invitations, and myriad other things. “This might bore you. Guys aren’t usually into the whole planning of the fairy-tale wedding.”

  Dallas ducked his head. “You’re right. I just needed an excuse to see you, but I am interested to know why you like being a wedding planner. I also love weddings—or at least, the cake they serve.”

  “Typical male. That’s why we have food—to get the best man to attend.”

  He laughed. It was a nice laugh.

  “Look, there’s an ice show this Thursday. A special event. You might have heard.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Sasha Cohen is coming to town.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I remembered watching the talented skater when she won her first silver medal in the Olympics. I nodded. “I heard. She’s amazing.”

  “Would you like to come with me? I know it’s not much notice since it’s tomorrow.”

  I shot him a mega-watt grin. “I love figure skating.”

  Dallas returned the smile. “And dinner before?”

  This was it. I was committing to go on a second date with someone—after almost a year, I was finding strength to step forward. “Sure.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six?”

  “Sounds great. See you then.”

  He waved as he pulled the door open. The front door whooshed shut. My smile widened as I watched Dallas cross the street. I thought about why I had so readily agreed to go out with him. Of course, Sasha Cohen was hard to turn down. Usually after one date, however, I found enough excuses to keep from going out again. That was before Briette. Things were different now. I had promises to keep.

  I headed to the back to see how much of the conversation Lorea had overheard. My grin stretched ear to ear as I reentered the sewing room. Lorea raised her eyebrows, and the pins in her mouth wobbled as she tried to keep from smiling back.

  “Did you hear?”

  Placing a few more pins in the hem of the dress, Lorea let out a sigh. “You’re going to the ice show.”

  “To see Sasha Cohen!”

  “That almost makes me wish I had a date.”

  “You could, you know, if you would stop turning down every guy who asks you out.” I picked up a stray pin from the floor.

  “I’ve seen too much behind-the-scenes action to want to date anyone seriously.”

  “Who would think a wedding planner could be a cynic?”

  Lorea waved her pincushion at me. “I’m not a wedding planner; I’m your assistant. And I’m not a cynic. I’m just realistic.”

  I straightened a pile of fabric swatches and thought about how my promises included an attitude change. “I used to say that. But now I’m a ‘glass is half full’ kind of girl.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting Brett Hansen the night of his rehearsal dinner?”

  “Now, don’t blame that on me. Friend to friend, I tried to warn Gwen not to marry him.” I had a personal policy of honesty that Lorea liked to call “brazen bluntness.” Whatever it was called, it meant that I didn’t care about the money enough to help one of my friends make a mistake. I wasn’t afraid to break up an engagement—I wouldn’t stand idly by and let a girl marry a jerk if I could help it.

  “It’s too bad she didn’t listen to you before the wedding was planned instead of after she found her fiancé making out with the caterer. That would’ve saved her parents a lot of money.”

  I cringed. “That reminds me. We really need to look into some new catering businesses.”

  “Glad I’m in charge of dresses,” Lorea said.

  I made a note on my to-do list before scrolling through the images of the wedding gowns we were thinking of ordering for the next shipment. My eyes lingered on one of the dresses, and I tried not to think of how it reminded me of Briette’s gown. I looked down at my hands and saw that they were clenched into fists. The familiar strands of anxiety tightened my stomach. I straightened my shoulders and forced myself to relax. Not today. She would want me to be happy in my new business venture.

  Briette would have been excited for my date with Dallas. It was time for me to open my heart to new possibilities. I hoped I could find the courage to do so.

  Chapter 3

  Coffee Filter Roses

  For each rose, gather three four-cup and three eight- to twelve-cup unused basket-style coffee filters. Dye them using watercolors or watered-down acrylic paint. Dip and then dry.

  Stack the three large filters together. Flatten them out, then fold in half and in half again to form a t
riangular wedge. Using scissors, cut along the open end of the triangle to create a scalloped line. Do the same with the three small filters.

  Open the cut filters and place the small stack on top of the large stack. With your fingers, pinch the underside of the stack in the center, where the folds meet, which will cause the filters to crinkle together. Using a stapler, staple just above where your fingers have pulled the filters together.

  Turn the flower over and open up the filters. Beginning with the outermost filter, gather the filter at the base and pinch around the base to pull the circle tighter, forming ruffles and petal-like fullness. Repeat with each of the six filters, gathering them at the base and pinching along the bottom to create a stem-like bump on the bottom. Wind masking tape around the base to hold the shape. Fluff out the flower.

  Use coffee filter roses as table décor, hang from the backdrops or ceiling, or use them to create floral wreaths.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com.

  Chatting with Dallas had put me a little behind, and the line at the post office was longer than I’d hoped. When I stopped by Walter’s store to tell him about the shipment, I found the store closed. A hand-written sign taped to the front door stated he was sick. It seemed strange that he didn’t have someone covering for him. I couldn’t recall a time when Mayfield Jewelers had ever been closed during regular business hours. Walter was looking forward to seeing the gowns, and Lorea and I were just as excited to show him, but it would have to wait.

  The sun burned off the cool mountain morning as I walked down the block to my building. Summer was fast approaching, but the temperatures were still sluggish, even this late in May. I unlocked the back door of my shop and stepped inside. Before I could greet Lorea, the wedding bells above the front door rang, and I recognized the click-click of stilettos.

  “Hello, darlings,” a familiar voice called out.

  Glancing at Lorea, I suppressed an eye-roll and went to greet our client.

  “Sylvia, how are you?”