Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
May straightened her glasses and settled back into the booth at the Green Plate across from Amka and Ophelia, with Daisy tucked in beside her.
It felt good to have friends pressed in close with the world so chaotic around her.
For the first time in days she wasn’t the only one holding the weight of everything.
They each had baskets of chicken wings in front of them because that’s what Gus had cooked for lunch.
They were honey barbecue, sticky and sweet.
Daisy wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t have time to fly to Fairbanks or Anchorage. Do you guys?”
“No,” Ophelia said immediately. “Not even close. Brock and I have been tracking down different suspects in these murders and we’re getting nowhere. I really don’t have time to lose an entire day.”
Amka took a slow sip of her tea. “That’s not to mention the weather keeps turning on us. What if we got stuck outside of town?”
May swallowed. “I can’t. I’m on duty all the time.” It wasn’t entirely true with Dr. Patterson back, but it felt true. Patients didn’t schedule illness around weddings or murder investigations. And Ace. She trusted him to handle himself. Still, worry sat low and constant in her stomach.
Flossy shuffled down from the counter and paused at their booth. “Hello, ladies.”
“Hi, Flossy,” May said, automatically scanning her face and posture. Good color. Steady breathing. No tightness around the mouth. The woman’s cholesterol and anxiety were controlled, but May never quite stopped assessing.
“How’s your back doing?” Amka asked.
“Much better, thank you,” Flossy said.
May lifted one eyebrow.
Flossy waved her off. “I didn’t need a doctor. It was just a little strain. Amka helped me carry in my groceries.” She leaned in closer. “I couldn’t help overhearing you talking about flying to the city.”
May nodded. “We were going to get bridesmaid dresses since the wedding’s this Saturday, but we’re all pressed for time.”
Flossy clapped her gnarled hands together. “Perfect. I have an idea.”
Ophelia stretched her arm. “Oh yeah? What’s your idea?”
“Lottie and Tillie Whitlow inherited their aunt Sylvia’s house and just moved up here last week. Have you met them?”
“No,” Daisy said.
“This is news,” Amka added, brows drawing down.
Flossy’s eyes gleamed. “I met them yesterday, and get this. Lottie is a seamstress and wants to open a shop in town.”
“In Knife’s Edge? Do we have enough people to support a seamstress?” Daisy asked.
“Sure we do,” Flossy said firmly. “People always need clothing, especially during tourist season. The school needs costumes for plays. There are curtains, cushions, repairs. Hemming alone could keep someone busy, and I’d like to help her out. Those girls seem like they need it.”
Ophelia tapped her fingers on the table. “Interesting.”
“Where is this place?” Amka asked.
“Oh honey, it’s right at the end of First Street, just past Puck’s Bar. They’re planning to turn the front of the house into a shop.”
Ophelia took a sip of her soda. “I know that place. I thought it was abandoned.”
“It was,” Flossy said.
May glanced around the diner as the familiar hum of conversation rolled through the room.
Gus barked orders toward the kitchen. Maybe they couldn’t get to Fairbanks.
Maybe they couldn’t control the district attorney or the weather or a U.S.
senator’s ego. But they could solve the bridesmaid dress problems. “This might be perfect.”
Flossy leaned in again. “You girls should go see them. I think they’d be thrilled for the business.”
“Are they both seamstresses?” Daisy asked.
“No. I don’t know what Tillie does.” Flossy sat back, looking mildly disappointed in herself. “I should’ve asked. Anyway, give them a chance, would you?” She wandered off toward the counter, muttering about needing to pay better attention.
Ophelia looked around the booth. “I tell you what. I’ll go swing by there right now and see if she has any blue fabric.”
Amka laid her napkin on her empty plate. “I don’t care if it’s blue. I just thought that might look good on all of you. If you find any color that works, that’s fine by me. But you all have to like it.”
“I can’t wear yellow,” May said. “At least not the pale shades.”
“And I can’t wear red.” Daisy patted her reddish hair.
Ophelia tilted her head. “I’m not great in purple.”
Amka laughed. “All right. So no purple, no yellow, no red. Other than that, feel free.”
“I wouldn’t do beige,” May added, leaning forward, getting into the planning. “We live in a place where the sun barely shows itself half the year. I feel like we should have real color.”
“I completely agree,” Amka said. “No beige. Nothing too pastel.”
“I’ll try to find a blue,” Ophelia went on, thinking aloud. “But I think a nice green would work.”
May finished her last wing. “That would be pretty.”
Ophelia suddenly shifted in the booth to face Amka. “What about flowers?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought,” Amka admitted.
“I have an idea,” May said, picturing the river trail from her last walk. “Why don’t we pick forget-me-nots, fireweed, and wild iris the day before the wedding? They’re blooming everywhere right now. They’re beautiful and easy to find. We can make really pretty bouquets.”
“I love that idea,” Amka said immediately.
Daisy nodded. “That sounds perfect. Wild and simple.”
May caught sight of Lance over at the counter. “Hey, Lance,” she called.
He turned on the stool and caught her eye, smiling before hopping down and walking toward their booth. “Hey. What’s up?”
“How would you like a quick job on Friday?” May asked.
“At the clinic?” he asked.
“No. Picking flowers,” May replied. “If you can get a couple of your buddies, maybe some of the kids from football camp you coached, we’ll pay by the hour. We need forget-me-nots, wild iris, and fireweed.”
He cocked his head. “Huh?”
“Pull out your phone,” May said dryly.
He obeyed, scrolling quickly. “Oh yeah. I know these. My grandma used to point out fireweed every summer.”
“You could grab a couple of friends and pick enough for four bouquets,” Daisy said, leaning forward, “and maybe some extra stems for vases.”
“Yeah,” Lance said. “We can do that.”
“We’re going to need ribbon,” Daisy said.
Lance swallowed. “You want me to get ribbon?”
“No,” Amka said quickly. “Ophelia, why don’t you see if the new seamstress has ribbon?”
Delight filled Ophelia’s eyes. “That’s a great idea, and maybe she could even help put the bouquets together. It’s artistic and crafty. Wouldn’t a seamstress be good at that?”
“I think so.” May looked up at Lance. He wore a black shirt with some hard metal band logo she’d never heard of and torn jeans. His black hair was swept back, freshly shaved at the sides. “Also, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a favor. Would you mind being my assistant at the wedding?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Doing what?”
“I’m a bridesmaid and the photographer,” she said. “Which means I’ll need someone to take the photos I’m actually in.”
His whole face brightened. “Seriously? I’d love to.”
She smiled. He’d been talking about photography for months. She’d tried to nudge him toward classes, toward thinking about it seriously, but he always shrugged it off and took business classes.
“I’ve been thinking of adding a minor at college,” he added.
“Please tell me it’s photography?” she asked.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah. I mean, why not?”
“Good,” May said warmly. “You should.”
Energy emanated from him. “I’ll round up my buddies and make sure everybody’s free Friday.” Then he turned to Amka. “We’re not charging you.”
“Oh no,” Amka protested immediately. “You have to.”
He shook his head fast. “No. This can be our gift. The whole town’s coming, right?”
“I think so,” Amka said with a laugh. “And thank you.”
He grinned. “You bet. I’ve never picked flowers before.”
“You’ll survive,” Daisy said.
He headed back toward the counter where a couple of other young men were demolishing wings and talking boisterously.
“Nice kid,” Daisy said.
“Yeah,” May murmured. “He really is.”
For a moment she let herself just sit there and take it in.
Friends planning, kids helping out, and a town that showed up when it mattered.
The knot of worry about Ace still pressed at her ribs, but it felt less isolating sitting with her friends.
Whatever happened in court, whatever pressure came from outside, she wasn’t standing alone.
“Did I hear there’s a town wedding?” Mick Thompson appeared at the edge of their booth so suddenly May jumped.
“Where did you come from?” she asked.
He jerked his thumb toward the back booth. “Down the way. My brothers and I are taking a break from fishing. So, a wedding?”
“Yes,” Amka said easily. “I’m getting married. The whole town’s invited.”
“Are you still going to be here Saturday?” May asked.
His eyes twinkled. “We leave Sunday. That gives me four more days to convince you to go out with me, Doc.”
“Oh, she’s taken,” Amka said, smiling.
“Maybe, but I don’t see a ring on that finger.” Mick winked and sauntered back toward his brothers.
Daisy turned to watch him go. “Tourists sure get pushy, don’t they?”
Ophelia’s gaze followed him a beat longer than necessary.
May remembered Brock and Olly’s plans. “Hey, did you follow the flannel-wearing Thompson brothers the other night?”
“Yeah,” Ophelia answered. “They didn’t do anything interesting. We ran their backgrounds too. I hate to admit it, but I’m not finding anything.”
“What about anybody else?” May pressed.
“Nope.” Ophelia sighed and wiped her hands clean. “Nothing that sticks. And we’ve looked.”
The table went quiet for a second. The clatter of dishes and low hum of conversation filled in the space.
“We need to find exculpatory evidence and soon.” Daisy shifted back into lawyer mode. “We have Ace’s preliminary hearing tomorrow afternoon. The judge is being reasonable and letting us do it via teleconference.”
May’s temples began to ache. “I’m glad.” A preliminary hearing didn’t sound like fun, and no doubt Ace didn’t want to deal with it. She couldn’t blame him. She turned toward the window, more out of habit than intention, and froze.
Across the street, outside Bob’s Bait and Outfitters, Kyle Mercer stood with Peter and Jack.
All three were dressed down in jeans and outdoor jackets, posing beside the massive, mounted fish near the door.
One of them held up a camera while the others laughed.
They were really pushing Kyle’s fake environmental agenda, now weren’t they?
Amka followed her gaze. “When do you suppose they’re leaving?”
“It’s got to be soon,” May said, her jaw aching.
“They’re leaving Friday morning,” Ophelia replied.
May jerked. “Oh?”
Ophelia’s mouth curved. “I’ve been doing my research. They’ve got a big rafting trip tomorrow night and have been posting about it all week. Then they head out first thing Friday.”
Relief moved through May so suddenly she almost slumped with it. “Good.” She hadn’t realized how much space Kyle was taking up in her mind until the idea of him leaving created room to breathe.
As if sensing her attention, his head turned. Even from across the street, she felt his focus. His gaze locked onto hers, his eyes hard and assessing.
Then he smiled.
A chill slid down her spine.
Daisy eyed her. “What?”
“Nothing,” May said automatically, but her fingers gripped her water glass.
Ophelia twisted in her seat and glanced out the window. “Oh.”
Amka’s posture shifted almost imperceptibly. “He looks like he’s enjoying himself.”
“He always does,” May replied.
Across the street, Peter snapped another photo. Jack clapped Kyle on the shoulder. They looked carefree and perfectly staged.
But Kyle didn’t look away from her. He held her gaze another second, then finally turned back to his friends.
May let out a slow breath.
“Hey,” Daisy said gently. “He’s leaving.”
“Yeah,” May answered. Yet she couldn’t settle. The bell above the Green Plate’s door jingled as someone else walked in. Knife’s Edge carried on.
Amka reached across the table and squeezed May’s hand. “You’re not alone.”
May looked at her friends. Daisy with her quick mind and steady resolve. Ophelia already building timelines in her head. Amka grounded and calm. “I know,” May said softly.
Across the street, Kyle laughed at something Peter said, and caught her eye again.
May looked away first.