The Perfect Bride - By Kerry Connor Page 0,2

been anywhere near a balcony, let alone close enough to fall from one. But the door to her room had supposedly still been locked from the inside. There’d been no indication of foul play or any reason the police could determine why anyone would want to hurt her. In the absence of any hard evidence proving otherwise, the authorities had concluded it had to be an accident.

Leaving Jillian no choice but to come here herself and find out the truth.

She’d known if she came here as herself, it was unlikely anyone would talk to her or that she’d learn anything different from what the authorities already had. No, she’d needed another reason to be here. So she’d called pretending to be a bride wanting to book her own wedding.

Her main concern had been that someone would remember her name as that of Courtney’s missing maid of honor. Luckily Courtney had always called her Jay—the only person who had—so Jillian knew if her name had come up at all, it would have been the nickname. The woman she’d spoken with on the phone—Meredith Sutton, one of the owners—had given no indication she recognized Jillian’s name. She’d merely been cautious, wanting to be sure Jillian knew what had happened here. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that nearly all of the other weddings that had been booked at the manor had been canceled, their brides and grooms no longer interested in being wed anywhere near Sutton Hall. Jillian had assured the woman she was aware of the tragic death and wasn’t deterred by the fact that such an unfortunate accident had taken place. Meredith Sutton had still hesitated, as though she wasn’t sure she wanted to try hosting another wedding here herself, before finally relenting.

Now Jillian was going to have to do all the things she’d shrugged off before—immerse herself in wedding arrangements, choose flowers and color schemes and whatever else was involved. For Courtney she would do it, the way she should have the first time.

And more important, she was going to get the truth.

Sucking in a breath, Jillian finally moved her foot back to the gas pedal and proceeded on to the house.

Unsure where to park, she rounded the circular driveway and pulled up directly in front of the building. The car had barely come to a stop when the front door to the house swung open. A woman stepped outside and stood on the stoop, raising her hand to wave.

This is it, Jillian thought, bracing herself as she put the car in Park. Showtime.

With one last deep breath, she climbed out of the car, fixing a smile upon her face as she waved back at the woman. Jillian recognized her from her research. This was Meredith Sutton, the woman who owned the estate with her brother, Adam.

“Hello!” the woman called out, a trace of a tremor in her voice. “You must be Jillian.”

“That’s right. Meredith?” Jillian asked as if she didn’t know.

“That’s me,” the woman said, a touch of self-deprecation in her words. “It’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“You, too.” Meredith Sutton was a thin woman in her late twenties with brown hair that hung to her shoulders. It was pulled away from her face, revealing pale skin and a faint smile. An air of vulnerability hung over her, as though a stiff breeze was capable of blowing her over. As soon as she made eye contact, her gaze almost immediately skittered away. A few seconds later, she managed to bring her eyes up again, this time meeting Jillian’s and holding steady.

Jillian could almost feel the effort it took her to maintain eye contact. The woman radiated nervous energy. Considering what had happened to the first bride who came here to be married, that probably made sense.

Or was there more to it? Jillian couldn’t help wondering as a pang of suspicion struck low in her gut. Something beyond a simple accident had happened to Courtney, she had no doubt about that. Someone was very likely involved, and as one of the owners, Meredith Sutton was more likely than not to know what had really happened here. Maybe she had good reason to be nervous. Guilty conscience?

Doing her best not to let her suspicions show on her face, Jillian leaned back and gestured toward the building. “This is so much more than I expected.”

“The pictures don’t quite do it justice, do they?” Meredith said, following Jillian’s gaze. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging. Adam and I inherited the place