Murder Has a Sweet Tooth - By Miranda Bliss Page 0,78

around the hemline. I caught my breath while Eve held it at arm’s length to look it over, and I let go a covert sigh of relief when she set the dress down.

The second dress was a pretty color, deep sapphire blue, but a little too dramatic for my taste. Then again, I was pretty sure it was a little too dramatic for anything except maybe a little theater production of Gone with the Wind. The gown was strapless, and it had a bodice just dripping with rhinestones and a wide skirt that was ruched up all over so that it looked like frothy little mounds of blue whipped cream. That one, too, Eve set aside.

The third dress—

When Eve held it up to look it over, I hardly dared to move or breathe. The dress was chiffon with a swingy skirt and it had a halter-type top, but like mine, it was a tasteful little number, knee-length and dressy without being flamboyant. Yes, there were rhinestones, but not too many, just a sprinkling of them at the waist and down one side of the skirt. Not too overdone. Not too dazzling. And not so sparkly that the dress would blind anyone when Eve walked down the makeshift aisle we were planning to set up from the front door of Bellywasher’s to the bar. The best part? The dress was peachy, just a couple shades darker than mine.

“What do you think?” Eve asked.

I didn’t dare wax too poetic. If I did, she’d go for the sapphire blue in a heartbeat. “You should try it on. It seems a little—”

“Too plain?” Eve wrinkled her nose. She gave the dress another look, then held it up in front of herself. “Does it make my complexion look sallow?”

“Absolutely not!” It was the truth and besides, I was secretly rooting for the peachy dress. It was everything I’d ever dreamed a bridesmaid’s dress should be. “I’ll bet if you try it on, you’ll like it. I mean, it’s that kind of dress, isn’t it? It might not look like much on the hanger, but once you’ve got it on, pow! You know, it might just be one of those dresses that looks spectacular on. Why don’t you—”

“No.” Eve shook her head. Her gaze traveled back to the blue whipped-creamy dress and my spirits plummeted. She looked at the peachy one again and my hopes rose like those perky mounds of whipped cream. “I’m not going to try it on,” she said, and before my hopes had a chance to take another dive, a smile cracked her solemn expression. “That’s because I already did! I stopped in here two weeks ago and saw the dress. I tried it on then and fell in love with it just like that. It’s already been altered and it’s all ready to go. I swore Marie to secrecy about it. I knew you’d love it. I wanted to surprise you!”

Surprise me she did, and I found out for sure that I would be able to move freely while wearing my dress. Since I was standing on the platform in the center of the room, I didn’t even have to reach up—at least not too much, anyway—to fold Eve into a hug. “You’re the best friend in the world,” I told her.

She brushed off the compliment. “It’s easy to be a best friend in the world when you’ve got the best friend in the world to be best friends in the world with.”

Semantics aside, we both knew we’d get all teary if we didn’t change the subject. I carefully slipped out of my wedding dress and back into my jeans and black T-shirt. While Marie herself—beaming a big smile and proud of herself for the part she’d played in Eve’s little deception—took both dresses to get them packaged and set to go, we sat in the dressing room and waited.

“So back to that coaster,” I said, because honestly, I was beginning to feel as if we’d never get any further with the case if we didn’t talk about it every chance we had. “Why wouldn’t Michael mention that he’d been to Swallows? You’d think he’d tell the police.”

“Unless he didn’t want them to know.”

“And he didn’t want them to know because . . .” Here was the sticking point, and stick me, it did. Stuck, I propped my elbows on my knees and braced my head in my hands. “Maybe Edward wasn’t the only one Beth blabbed to. Maybe she told