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‘I’m going to try it on and I want you to give me your opinion. I don’t want to look a fool in front of Bryan.’

Taking a deep breath, she followed Grace inside and hoped she could keep her reaction in check. No way would she tell her the dress was anything but gorgeous.

The seamstress, dressed in jeans and T-shirt, stood to greet them in her cluttered space. She was as lean and as tall as Lottie,and though she was beautiful, with glinting green eyes, her features were hard. Lottie hoped her own face was a little softer.

Rolls of material lined the shelves and the large work table held a sewing machine and other implements. A sheet draped over a mannequin made Lottie shiver. It looked like a cartoon ghost.

‘Ladies.’ The woman’s eyes focused on Grace. ‘Your dress is ready for you, young lady. Are you game for one final try-on?’

‘Game?’ Grace’s eyebrows knitted in apparent confusion.

‘Do you want to try it on for your… eh… friend?’

‘This is my future sister-in-law, Lottie Parker,’ Grace said. Lottie prayed she wouldn’t say she was a detective. ‘She’s a detective inspector in Ragmullin and my brother is a detective sergeant. She’s his boss.’

Lottie felt her cheeks flush, and the woman smiled awkwardly, holding out her hand in greeting.

‘Pleased to meet you, Detective Inspector.’

Lottie shook the hand. It was as rough as sandpaper. ‘Lottie will do.’

‘Ann Wilson. Ann will do.’

‘Pleased to meet you too,’ Lottie replied, feeling like a parrot. Wilson? She wondered if she was anything to do with the councillor who had apparently become a thorn in Mooney’s side.

‘Grace,’ Ann addressed her client, ‘off you go to the fitting room. Your dress is all ready for you.’ She pointed to the end of the cabin.

Lottie could swear Grace actually skipped behind the curtain that was hanging there.

The air felt too warm and there was no chair to sit on. She leaned against the wall and fanned herself with her hand.

‘Are you okay?’ Ann asked. ‘Here, have my chair.’ She led Lottie around the large table. ‘Would you like some water?’

‘Please. It’s so hot in here.’

‘I like the heat.’ She extracted a bottle of water from a small fridge behind the table. ‘But I keep hydrated. Sorry, I’ve no glass.’

‘This is okay.’ Lottie accepted the bottle gratefully, unscrewed the cap and drank.

‘You’re here for the wedding then?’

‘Yes. Looking forward to it,’ she lied. God, but she had no interest in it. Not now that she yearned to be involved in Mooney’s murder investigations.

‘I believe it’s to be a small affair,’ Ann whispered. ‘Bryan is a lucky man. Wasn’t always so. But he fell into luck… Then again, maybe he made his own luck.’

Lottie sat up straight and placed the bottle on the cluttered table, careful in case it toppled and spilled over the delicate material Ann had been working on. ‘Oh, why is that?’

‘I don’t want to speak out of turn.’

‘I won’t tell anyone.’

Ann laughed. ‘We sound like two schoolchildren conspiring in the playground.’

‘I need help with these buttons,’ Grace said from behind the curtain.

‘Be with you in a second.’ Ann picked up a pair of scissors. Noticed Lottie eyeing her. ‘In case there’s a loose thread.’ She went off to assist Grace.

Lottie took a business card from a bundle stacked in a small box on the table.Ann Wilson.Again she wondered if she was related to Councillor Denis Wilson. No harm in asking. First, though, she had to fix her expression into one of joy for the dress she was about to see. She slipped the card into her pocket.