Veiled in Death. Stephanie Blackmoore

to alter it, I bet. It’s vintage, from the early 1960s. It would complement your figure perfectly.” June deftly unzipped the dress from the dress form. She swiveled around quickly to hand me the garment just out of baby Miri’s sticky grasp.

      “Thank you.” I heard a certain note of reverence in my voice. I held the dress against my even more informal coral skirt and striped tank top and peered into a gilt mirror affixed to the wall.

      It was truly a magical dress. I performed an impetuous, joyful spin and my doppelganger in the mirror broke out in an infectious grin. I recalled the not-quite-right ball gown my would-be mother-in-law Helene had once strong-armed me into choosing.

      This dress was made for you.

      I finally took in Bev’s terse smile hovering just behind me in the mirror.

      “Or this could be a perfect rehearsal look for Mallory,” Bev put in flatly. “Or the starting inspiration for Mallory’s eventual gown choice. But not for the main event.”

      June shrugged, seeming to wish to avoid a fight over a sundress. “Maybe you’re right. This pretty little thing might not have enough stature for a big autumn wedding. And you are Port Quincy’s dress expert, my dear.” June gave Bev’s arm a knowing pat without a hint of condescension.

      I felt a bubble of annoyance drift up just as Bev relaxed. My friend’s wedding-gown expertise was duly noted, and territory over my dress choice was ceded. Before I could protest, June sent me a subtle wink. I felt my bubble of annoyance burst and gave a relieved laugh. June had an impressive and well-honed emotional IQ and had defused the situation expertly. As much as I adored Bev and usually sought out her wedding-gown expertise, I wasn’t giving up my dream dress without a fight. A diplomatic, well-meaning fight.

      I smiled at both women. “I’ll think about the dress, June. It would certainly work well as a rehearsal dinner look, or even a second reception dress. I’ll talk it over with Garrett, and probably be back.” A wave of relief washed over me as we all pondered the dress. I instantly felt better after announcing my intentions to purchase the dress soon. As a wedding planner, I was used to making quick and decisive recommendations for my brides. But I needed a smidge more time for myself. I’d purchase the dress after chatting with my fiancé and decide later how I’d incorporate it into my wedding celebrations, whether as the starring centerpiece of my look, or merely a bit player. A shiver stole down my spine as I recalled the wedding I’d called off several summers ago. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the experience had kicked off my wedding-planner career. I wasn’t going to be strong-armed into making decisions about this wedding, the only one I planned on ever having.

      “Anything else for you?” June glanced at Bev’s overflowing basket of flower-themed wares with keen approval.

      “These earrings, too.” I reached beyond June to pluck a pair of heavy crystal earrings that had remained on the birdcage. These ones were faceted briolettes in the shape of fat teardrops, clear yet carved enough to throw off some subtle sparkle.

      June’s eyes went wide as she took in the set. “I didn’t think I’d put these out. Pia must have found them.” She looked as if she wanted to make a grab for the jewelry, and I wondered if I’d be able to purchase them after all.

      June confirmed my suspicions. She leaned in closer for a better look and rewarded me with another baby-powder whiff from Miri. “There’s supposed to be a necklace that matches this very pair.” She tut-tutted and shook her head. “I promise to find the missing crystal necklace that goes with these beauties. For now, I’ll hold on to them for safekeeping and eventually sell it to you as a set!” Before I could stop her, June grabbed the pretty baubles as if she were a magpie alighting on a particularly glittery find.

      I followed June to the front of the store, exchanging a shrug with Bev. Elvis finally woke up for good, and trotted dutifully behind his mistress, his droopy basset ears nearly skimming the rose-patterned carpet of the antiques store. His short little legs needed to churn to keep up. Maybe June really was holding back on the sale of the earrings until she found the matching necklace. The pieces would look stunning on my big day, whether I ended up pairing them with the sundress or not.

      And before I could give the incident of snatching back the earrings another thought, a pint-sized version of June arrived on the scene.

      “There. This is the last heap of stuff from the northwest corner of the basement.” The girl before me set a stack of ancient luggage down on a wide oak table in the center of the store. A pillar of dust rose from her column of suitcases. June wheeled around to cover baby Miri until the dust had literally settled.

      June leaned over to plant a kiss on the dirt-smudged cheek of the pretty girl wearing an incongruous crown of dust bunnies. “Pia, my little ragamuffin.” She spoke the term with much love.

      “You need to get a little dirty working in an antique store, Mom.” The pretty redhead smiled up at her mom. Both women sported auburn locks, but June’s were cropped short and threaded with silver. The young woman’s tresses were bound in a low ponytail.

      “I’ll have you know I run a tight ship around here,” June protested, gesturing to the almost-cluttered but also orderly store. “My mother, Claudia, is in charge of inventory in the basement, and let’s just say I didn’t inherit my organizing genes from her.”

      I realized with a start that Pia must be my good friend Tabitha’s younger sister. Tabitha, the town historian, chose to dye her hair a striking Ariel-the-mermaid red, while Pia’s looked like her natural color, a subtler shade of auburn. Tabitha was a whole head taller than Pia, just like my sister, Rachel, who towered over me.

      “Let’s see what you found.” June bounced a now-fussy Miri as she anxiously awaited the opening of the luggage.

      “They were pretty heavy.” Pia started with a pretty pink leather hatbox. The pale-shell shade of the leather and smooth grain of the luggage made it look like a giant makeup compact. “Hm.” Inside the box was another hatbox, this one a more daring magenta. Pia let out a laugh as she found yet another, smaller hatbox within, this one a light pink with magenta polka dots, marrying the colors of the two larger pieces encasing them.

      “They’re like girly luggage Russian nesting dolls.” I blurted out my assessment as Pia opened the last hatbox.

      “Nada.” Pia’s expectant look deflated as she patted the inside of the hatbox.

      “The set is gorgeous, though,” Bev cooed. “I would love to purchase this, too! All cleaned up, these three hatboxes would make a darling addition to my wedding trousseau.”

      I knew Bev and Jesse were headed to Williamsburg, Virginia, with Bev’s teenage son, Preston, for her honeymoon.

      June blushed again. “They’re all yours. But please don’t pick them up until tomorrow, when I’ve had a chance to scrub off all of the accumulated grime.” She made to swipe a finger through the dust adorning the bright luggage, then stopped herself at the last second. She couldn’t suppress a shudder, though. I realized that though the store was chockablock full of antiques, everything was meticulously polished and pristine with nary a speck of dust anywhere. Well, until Pia had brought up the luggage.

      “Claudia promised me she’d get the basement under control.” June rolled her eyes and gestured below her. “My mom doesn’t keep the most meticulous records. The upstairs of the Antique Emporium is my domain. I like to think of this floor as carefully ordered chaos. But Claudia’s basement? Pfft.”June shook her head. “That’s true chaos.”

      A small frown stole over Pia’s pretty face. She had a chameleon look, sometimes recalling the sharper features of her sister, Tabitha. At other angles, she favored her mother’s slightly softer features. “Grandma Claudia finds the neatest stuff, though, Mom. She has the best eye of the three of us. You can’t argue with that.”

      June seemed to melt at the defense of her mother given by her daughter. “Fair enough, sweetie. The three of us make a great team.”

      I beamed at her admission. It was fun to imagine three