Veiled in Death. Stephanie Blackmoore

      

      VEILED IN DEATH

      Tabitha picked at her newly arrived razzleberry pie. The server had placed the pies on the table with a warmed dollop of French vanilla ice cream running in rivulets through the red-and-blue baked fruit.

      “Mallory.” Her voice grew even more serious. “I love history. I love material culture. But I saw a man die over it. That veil is trouble. I want you to get it out of your possession.”

      “I couldn’t agree more.” The veil was seeming more like a curse at this point than a boon. I thought of the psychological damage keeping such a secret had wrought on my friend. I recalled how the Pierces’ machinations and power had ruined good people’s lives. I didn’t want to get messed up in that. I gave my friend’s hand another squeeze.

      Tabitha took in a restorative, if shaky breath, and tried to drink some coffee, but only succeeded in spilling several sloshes on the table. “What I can’t figure out now was how the veil, missing these twenty-five years, got in our shop.”

      “Your store is the perfect hiding spot,” I mused. “Or someone could be trying to frame you guys. But it looked like that hatbox had been in the basement of the Antique Emporium for a long time.” I stared into space, feeling good enough to eat most of my pie. “What I can’t get is whether what happened at Cordials and Cannonballs had something to do with this.”

      “Just promise you won’t go all Nancy Drew and try to solve this, Mallory.” She held out her pinky and made me swear not to intervene. I joined in her laughter. No way would I touch this . . .

      Books by Stephanie Blackmoore

      ENGAGED IN DEATH

      MURDER WEARS WHITE

      MURDER BORROWED, MURDER BLUE

      GOWN WITH THE WIND

      MARRY CHRISTMAS MURDER

      VEILED IN DEATH

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

      Veiled in Death

      Stephanie Blackmoore

      KENSINGTON BOOKS

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

      Table of Contents

      VEILED IN DEATH Also by Title Page Copyright Page Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN EPILOGUE RECIPES

      KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      119 West 40th Street

      New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2020 by Stephanie Hayes

      To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

      Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      ISBN: 978-1-4967-1755-9

      ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1756-6 (ebook)

      ISBN-10: 1-4967-1756-2 (ebook)

      For my mom and dad

      CHAPTER ONE

      “So, are you going to get hitched or not?” My dear friend Bev Mitchell raised one artfully plucked blond brow above her purple cat’s-eye glasses. The rhinestones adorning the frames twinkled as merrily as the mirth in her eyes. Her basset hound, Elvis, opened one droopy eye to regard his mistress. His floppy ears barely moved as he swiveled his gaze from Bev to me. Then he placed one smooth paw over his eyes and returned to his nap. Apparently, he wasn’t interested in having this conversation.

      That makes two of us, buddy.

      “Of course!” I tried to tamp down the frisson of annoyance I heard escape my lips. I took a measured breath. Although we were dear friends, today Bev was also technically a client. I wanted to focus on the business at hand and help her plan her upcoming wedding. Meddling in my love life was not on my to-do list for today. I pasted a serene smile on my face and answered Bev in a more modulated tone. “We’re just deciding some last-minute things. Like whether to get married at work or not.”

      It was true. Most brides wouldn’t give a fleeting thought about getting hitched at the place where they earned their living. It simply wouldn’t make sense. But as a wedding planner, my biggest hesitation was whether or not to get married at my home and also my place of business, the mansion where I regularly held weekend weddings.

      “Oh, hogwash. I know a professional procrastinator when I see one.” Bev gave my arm a warm squeeze and returned to the task at hand, foraging for antique pieces to gussy up her own wedding. Bev and her lucky beau were due to wed in less than three weeks. Bev bestowed me with a gentle smile and amended her statement. “But you’ve only been hesitant when it comes to planning your very