Chapter 37
Nerves and over-the-top bridal drama oozed from the walls of the Tropical Weddings shop in downtown Pelican Harbor. Butterflies
fluttered in Savannah’s stomach as she waited for her wedding dress to be brought out for the final fitting. How many brides
over the years had browsed through these dresses to find the perfect one for their special day?
Nora twirled in her knee-length blue dress. The color complemented her complexion and was a beautiful contrast with her brown
hair and eyes. The ruffles shimmered down her slim form to end just above her knees. “I love it, Savannah.”
Savannah rose and walked around Nora to check out the dress from all angles. “It fits perfectly now that it was hemmed a bit.
You look beautiful.” She turned to see the owner, Fiona Hamilton, carrying a champagne dress draped over both arms. Her blonde
hair was up in a bun, and she wore a skirt and blouse reminiscent of Lucille Ball.
Savannah’s pulse kicked. She hadn’t seen the dress in several weeks. Was it as perfect as she remembered? “Let’s check the
fit now. It was a little big last time, but unless your weight has changed, it should be fine now.”
She wanted more than fine. She didn’t want to be a bridezilla insisting everything had to be perfect, but she wanted to knock Hez’s socks off when she walked out.
The consultant led her to the huge dressing room, where Savannah disrobed.
The lightweight silken folds drifted down over her figure to settle at her ankles.
The whisper of the zipper and the scent of the silk took her back to the first time she’d said “I do” to Hez.
She was older and wiser now but no less in love with him. Maybe even more so.
Only a few more days until she was Mrs. Hezekiah Webster again for real.
Fiona pushed back the curtain. “Let’s take a peek in the big mirrors.”
Savannah followed her out into the promenade area with its massive mirrors and stared at herself. The color made her auburn
hair gleam in the lights, and the folds of the dress skimmed her waist and hips perfectly. The silk underskirt hugged her
skin, and the tiny details of the flowers on the chiffon overlay shimmered in the light. The modest bodice and full skirt
flattered her figure in a way she thought Hez would like. It was even more perfect than she remembered.
“Hez might pass out.” Nora adjusted the hem of the silk cap sleeve. “The champagne color is perfect.” She stepped back and
glanced toward the door when a bell attached to it jingled. She stilled and pressed her lips together.
Savannah turned to see what had caught her attention. Nora’s niece Tammy had entered. Her dark brown hair was mussed, and
she smoothed it as she walked toward them over the beige carpet. She wore jeans and a blue tee. Had she just gotten out of
jail?
Tammy’s gaze slid from Savannah to Nora and back again, and then she squared her shoulders at Nora’s encouraging nod.
Savannah sent a questioning glance in Nora’s direction, but her friend kept a soft smile directed at her niece while Tammy’s
full attention was on Savannah. Why was she here?
Tears dampened Tammy’s cheeks, and red rimmed her brown eyes, so like Nora’s. The two looked enough alike to be sisters. “I—I
owe you an apology, Savannah.” Tammy sent an appealing glance toward Fiona.
The store owner backed away. “I’ll check on you later, Savannah.” She gave Tammy’s arm an encouraging pat, then walked toward
the back of the store.
Tammy sniffled and hiked her purse strap back into place on her shoulder. “I should have known better than to listen to Uncle
Michael. I stole evidence from the PHPD, and I’m in so much trouble.” She choked back a sob. “It was so stupid. At first he
just wanted me to spy on the police department and tell him what they were investigating, but it got to be more than that.
More and more and more. The orders never stopped, but I was a frog in water that was getting hotter and didn’t realize I needed
to hop out. Now it’s too late.” She shuffled her sneakered feet.
Savannah’s chest stirred with pity. The girl was so young, not even twenty-five. And she’d had a rough life without a lot
of role models. Only Nora would have stood in the gap and tried to point the girl in the right direction. “I’m sorry for your
trouble, Tammy. Are the charges serious?”
Tammy gave a jerky nod and dug a crumpled paper napkin from her purse to use on her damp face.
“I destroyed evidence. Uncle Michael had me burn stuff and throw it off the Kate Norris Bridge. And I handed some things over to him.” She began to shred the napkin into pieces. “Like your little girl’s file.”
“What did he want with Ella’s file?”
Tammy’s fingers stilled their shredding. “I—I think maybe he wanted to use it to hurt you and Hez somehow. I wasn’t sure how
exactly, but he insisted I steal it. Maybe it was something about Simon. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Her voice
trembled and faded to a whisper. “I’m so ashamed.”
“Does he still have the file?” Savannah asked.
“I think so.”
“Could you get it back? We now know Ella was murdered, and there are details in that file that could be important.”
Tammy’s morose expression brightened, and she nodded. “I can try. I might get in trouble if he catches me, but I don’t care.
If I get it back for you, can you forgive me?”
“I forgive you even if you don’t get it back, but it would be helpful if we could study the evidence now that we know the
truth.”
And maybe there was a clue that had been missed originally.
Hez suppressed a chuckle when Bruno Rubinelli walked into the Pelican Harbor Police Department headquarters. A frown line
creased the space between Detective Augusta Richards’s brows, and a deputy’s hand twitched toward the cuffs on his belt, as
if he wanted to arrest Bruno on general principle.
Bruno didn’t seem to notice. He carried a skateboard under one bony, tattoo-covered arm and a ratty backpack over the opposite shoulder.
He wore ripped jeans and an ancient Skynet T-shirt that had once been black.
The fluorescent lights gleamed off his hairless skull as it swiveled on his long neck, scanning the PHPD lobby.
He spotted Hez and broke into a toothy grin. “There he is. You got those beignets you promised me?”
Hez held up a bag from Petit Charms. “Still warm. Let’s get you situated.”
Hez introduced Bruno to Augusta as they walked down the hall to the office she had prepared for him. Augusta had picked one
at the back of the building near an exit and without obvious security to make it enticing to Michael. She tucked a lock of
short brown hair behind her ear as she pointed out the sensors and cameras the department had installed. “We’ve got two hidden
cameras watching the window, one inside and one outside. Pressure pads are under the carpet by the window and all around the
desk.”
She picked up a dirty phone with a cracked screen from the utilitarian desk in the middle of the room. “This is a four-year-old
prepaid phone of the make and model sold in the store where our target bought the phone used to call Deke Willard. Do you
need anything else at the moment?”
Bruno opened the Petit Charms bag and inhaled. “Ahh. Is your coffee any good?”
A smile cracked Augusta’s no-nonsense demeanor. “The chief’s is. She just set up a coffee bar in her office. I’ll see if I
can get you a cup. How do you like it?”
“Black, thanks.” Bruno unzipped his backpack as Augusta left. He pulled out a heavily stickered laptop and a couple of metal boxes that sprouted numerous wires, one of which he connected to the phone on the desk. “Might as well make it look realistic.”
Augusta returned with the coffee. Bruno accepted the mug gratefully and took a bite of beignet. “Awesome. Good as advertised.”
Hez got up. “Glad you like them. I’ve got a meeting, but let me know if you need anything.”
Bruno gave a thumbs-up and swallowed. “Will do. Gonna hang here for a few, then find a skate park or somethin’. Chat up the
locals a little like you asked.”
Hez thanked him and left with Augusta, who cast a doubtful glance back over her shoulder as they walked to their meeting.
“If the FBI didn’t vouch for him, I’d be a little worried he’d hack into our computers.”
Hez laughed. “He could do that from back in California. Trust me—we’re lucky he’s on our side.”
They walked into Chief Jane Dixon’s office, and she rose to greet them. Hope was seated in one of Jane’s guest chairs with
a laptop on her knees. “Hey, Hez. Did you get my email just now?”
“No. We were getting Bruno set up. What’s going on?”
Hope closed her laptop. “Well, the good news is that we’ve got the area around the Norris Bridge secured—for now.”
Hez braced himself. “And the bad news?”
Hope sighed. “It’ll take two weeks to get a diver out here. We usually work with the Coast Guard, but they don’t have anyone
available until the end of the month.”
Jane looked grim. “And I can’t keep an officer out there guarding the site for that long.”
Hez couldn’t believe his ears. “The Norris Bridge is right at the entrance to Weeks Bay. It would only take a minute to reach from Mobile Bay. Michael Willard can just wait for your officer to leave and then send in his own diver or dredge the area under the bridge.”
Augusta shrugged. “He’d have to be ready with a diver or dredger, of course.”
Hez arched an eyebrow. “Have you met this guy?”
Jane drummed her fingers. “Do you have any suggestions, Hez?”
He tugged at his lower lip for a moment. “The diver doesn’t have to be a government employee, right? They just must be under
police supervision?”
Hope nodded slowly. “Yes. We’ll need to show chain of custody and that proper evidence-gathering protocols were followed,
but we don’t technically need a government diver.”
Hez relaxed a fraction. “Then I might have a guy for you. His name is Ed Hernandez and he’s a varsity swimmer. I think he’s
scuba certified too.”
“Excellent.” Jane pulled up a calendar on her monitor. “I’d love to get my deputy back tomorrow. Can you get him out there
that soon?”
“I’ll talk to him as soon as we’re done.” Unease crept into Hez’s gut. He might have just put a target on Ed’s back.