good to me.” They stepped into the dressing room and closed the door.
Hanging on the door to the closet was a dress with a massive skirt that crinkled as Amanda touched it. “Isn’t it amazing?”
“Amazing,” Charlie said, hoping Amanda didn’t see her surprised look at its volume. She wondered if it would even fit between the chairs as the woman came down the aisle.
Amanda suddenly teared up. “I’m so happy. Greg has been so wonderful. Last night we drank champagne down in the hotel bar until it closed.” That explained what he’d been doing in the lobby last night. He must have seen Charlie rush in—everyone in the lobby had.
“He loves me,” Amanda was saying. “He loves me so much.” All Charlie could do was nod. “He would do anything to make me happy.”
She wondered if Amanda had seen Greg leave the bar to come after her. “So did the two of you have champagne with Royce and his date?” she asked casually. If Royce had been there, then Amanda wouldn’t have even noticed Greg leaving the bar.
“Greg insisted they join us. It was the polite thing to do. I mean, Royce is the best man. He isn’t serious about that woman though. He’s just trying to make me jealous. Whatever.”
Charlie quickly changed the subject as they began to get ready for the wedding. She was counting down the minutes, afraid it still might not happen.
* * *
SHEP HUNG around in the anteroom. From where he stood, he was able to watch the lobby as people came and went. He didn’t see Lacey, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t here, he told himself.
Wedding guests began to arrive and were led into the main room where the ceremony would take place. As the time got closer, Shep tapped on the dressing room door. “Everything okay in there?” he asked.
“We’re fine,” Amanda called.
Closer to the door, Charlie said, “We’re ready and waiting.”
Only then did Shep enter the main room, find a seat and try to relax. He felt as if there was a bomb ticking in the room. He just wanted the happy couple married. Not that he thought Greg wouldn’t bother Charlie again. Still, he wanted this to be over. He wanted the Lacey problem over as well. He and Charlie couldn’t move on with their lives until then. It was all he’d been able to think about today as he watched for Lacey and waited for this wedding to be over.
The pastor came in and took his place, followed by Greg and Royce, both in tuxes. Shep tried to discern if Greg was having second thoughts. The man looked a little nervous, but it could have been excitement. Royce, on the other hand, looked bored.
A movement from Greg caught Shep’s eye. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle. Shep watched Greg put eye drops into both eyes before returning the vial to his pocket.
Amanda might have been telling the truth about putting the eyedrops into the desserts that had made both Charlie and Greg sick. Or was it possible it had been Greg who’d made Charlie sick so she would think it had been Amanda? Why would he do that? Had he put the eye drops in his own mousse, too? Or had he only pretended to be sick that afternoon?
Shep heard his cell ping and realized he should have already turned it off. He eased it out and saw that he had an attachment from Paul Wagner with a note that read Patrick, right and Frank, left. He opened the attachment and felt shock ricochet through him as he stared at the photograph.
In the shot was Lindy or Lacey, who knew which? She stood between two men, both considerably older than the seventeen-year-old. She was grinning at the person taking the photo. The men had their arms around her, one looking at the photographer, the other looking at Lindy/Lacey.
Even in profile, Shep recognized the man who was staring at the teenage girl instead of the camera. His mind argued that it couldn’t be. Wagner had said the man’s name as Patrick.
Shep looked up in confusion. But there was no doubt. Greg Shafer had changed from that love-struck twentysomething-year-old staring longingly at Lindy/Lacey. But he hadn’t changed so much that Shep didn’t recognize him, no matter what name he went by now.
He stared at the photo, trying to make sense of the cold wave of fear that moved through him.
Not that it mattered. What did