Page 11 of A Midsummer Night’s Ghost (Murder By Design #8)

ELEVEN

I spent the entire day worrying over what Ryan was thinking or doing or not doing.

So much so that I showed the Fishers bespoke inlay cabinets that were out of their price range and of course they fell in love with them. It was a major screw up. It’s like showing a bride a wedding gown thousands of dollars over her budget and then nothing in her price range will ever make her happy ever again.

Claudia wasn’t exactly happy with me and I felt terrible.

It left me stressed and staring at Ryan with my hand on my hip. I was shocked that he actually showed up at the appointed time since I appointed it and he didn’t like to be told what to do.

“What is going on?” I asked Ryan, who had an indecipherable look on his face as we stood in my kitchen. “You need to tell me.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong because if I tell you you’ll be mad at me for telling you.”

That was not improving my mood.

“I’m getting mad at you for not telling me.”

“Then this is a lose-lose situation because I’m telling you, you’ll be mad if I tell you. More than if I don’t tell you.”

“Just tell me!”

Ryan sighed. “I saw Marner hiding an engagement ring.”

That brought my irritation to a screeching halt. “ What ?”

“And before you get all pissy about me hanging around when I’m not supposed to be, it wasn’t my fault. I was waiting for you to get home yesterday and he was supposed to be at work and…I saw the ring.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed, excited and thrilled and suddenly nervous. “You know what this means, right?”

“Uh…I think so? He’s going to ask you to marry him. That seems kind of obvious.”

“No! It means that I have to look cute every single minute from now until P Day.”

“What the hell is P Day?”

“Proposal Day. It could happen at any time so I have to be ready 24/7. Nails done, hair can’t be frizzy.” I glanced down at my outfit. “I can’t wear yoga pants or sweats ever again! I’m not the kind of girl who can handle getting proposed to while wearing workout clothes when I don’t even workout!”

“What the hell are you even talking about? You sound nuts. See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Oh my God, he’s not going to propose on my birthday, is he? I don’t want that. That doesn’t feel special to me. It’s my birthday, not the day I got engaged. Get engaged. Did he say when he’s doing it?”

“Out loud to himself in an empty room? No. Of course not.”

My head was spinning. Another thought occurred to me. “Is it a good ring? Something I would like?”

“I have no idea if you would like it. It’s a ring. A diamond. Looked expensive.”

“Where is it? Where did Jake hide it?” I half wanted to see it, half didn’t. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise but I was also dying of curiosity. And slightly concerned that I might not like it. Jake was a fan of leg lamps and sports blankets and I was super picky when it came to anything related to fashion. If I didn’t like it, my face would be too loud during the proposal. I had been told I have the world’s worst poker face.

Worry started to mix with excitement and I yanked open the nearest kitchen drawer. “In here?”

The problem with an old kitchen was there was nothing to stop the drawer. When I yanked it ferociously it came all the way out and hit the floor, the drawer front popping off and splintering as spatulas and a potato masher went flying.

Ryan backed away from me and held his hands out. “Okay, let’s take it down a notch.”

It wasn’t like anything could hurt him. But I did stare at the damaged drawer. “Whoops.”

“Why are you freaking out? Is this because you don’t want Marner to propose to you?”

I picked the drawer up and shoved it back in place. “What? No, of course not. I mean, yes, I want him to propose to me. One hundred percent I want to marry him. That’s why I’m freaking out. This is a big deal. This is exciting. I want to react right when he does and now I know and I’m scared I’m going to be weird.”

My heart was racing in the best way possible.

Ryan didn’t respond and after I scooped up a handful of utensils and tossed them in the sink to wash I eyed him. He looked troubled. Morose. Irritated. A sneaking suspicion turned into a full blown belief.

“You don’t want him to propose to me,” I said, astonished.

“You guys have been dating for five minutes,” he said, avoiding directly answering me. “Don’t you think you’re rushing this?”

I stared at him. “No. I don’t. We’ve been living together for months. We just bought a house together. I think it’s pretty obvious our intention is to be together forever.”

“Hmm. It’s just fast.”

“It’s not fast. We’ve known each other for years. We know each other.”

“Exactly. You’ve known each other for years and never wanted to get married to him before. What changed?”

I set the drawer front on the counter carefully and thought about how I wanted to have this conversation with Ryan. Because this was about more than me and Jake getting married. It was about Ryan feeling stuck while everyone else was moving forward.

“What changed is that I lost someone important to me.”

He wrinkled his nose, clearly uncomfortable. “Did you find them?” he joked.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I needed to be delicate whether he wanted me to be or not.

“I did find him,” I said. “He’s standing in my kitchen acting like he doesn’t care. When I know he does. But it’s okay because it’s complicated.”

“Don’t get weird on me.”

“I’m not getting weird. But I actually believe that Jake and I came back into each other’s lives at the perfect time and we fell in love and you can think that’s gross all you want but it’s reality. And you’re right—I’m mad you told me.”

Ryan threw up his hands in the air. “Damn it, Bai, I told you. You’re just like a squirrel with a nut.” He made a gesture where his fingers were pinching together. “Peck, peck, peck.”

“That’s a bird, not a squirrel.”

“You really are incredibly annoying. I can’t believe that a guy as cool as Jake wants to marry you.”

That made me laugh. “Be quiet.”

“At least I don’t have to wear a monkey suit and be his best man. Though I would have enjoyed hitting on the bridesmaids.”

“My sister is married and so is Alyssa. You can’t hit on my bridesmaids.”

“I could have still hit on them. They can choose to respond or not. What about your cousin? Isn’t she single?”

I knew exactly which cousin he was talking about and I could guarantee that if Ryan were not a ghost, he and Maeve would have in some way embarrassed me with inappropriate behavior at the wedding.

The wedding .

My insides all fluttered at the thought of planning a wedding and then actually getting married.

“Maeve hates men in uniform.”

“I don’t have a uniform, just a badge. And all women love a man in uniform. It’s a fact.”

“She doesn’t.”

She did. I just wasn’t going to admit that unless it was under actual torture. I didn’t want him to pine for anything beyond what he already was.

“You’re going to be a bridezilla.”

“Probably.” There was no point in denying it. I worried about everything, I loved details, and I wanted pure perfection. No recipe for disaster there.

“Did you say Alyssa’s married? When did that happen?”

“Oh, she got drunk at the FOP party and married a sheriff that she knew for about three hours.”

Ryan nodded. “That’s fair.”

“How is that fair? I’ve known Jake for eight years and you think it’s nuts I’m marrying him but Alyssa can spontaneously marry a stranger?”

“You’re very different people.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

I couldn’t argue with Alyssa apparently, which was how Jake and I wound up having dinner with her and Lawson Hill on Friday.

Jake couldn’t argue with me , so in spite of his earlier protests he didn’t want to go to dinner on a double date he accepted his fate.

We were in a restaurant downtown, which in no way was the halfway between Alyssa and Lawson like she had told me she’d promised him. It way leaned in her favor, by about thirty miles, which was in our favor as well, so I wasn’t going to butt into her “marriage.” It seemed Lawson couldn’t argue with Alyssa either.

She was a force.

Once upon a time, I had wanted to be a force as well, but like Jake, I’d accepted my fate.

I was beige coordinates and stress sweat.

Much to Jake’s obvious relief, Alyssa and Lawson weren’t being lovey-dovey or touchy-feely. They seemed like a normal new couple, very much into each other, but still learning about each other.

Now Jake and Lawson were talking home renovation, which normally interested me, but I was worrying about both Ryan and the fact that James hadn’t shown up in days.

“I’ve had my house for about ten years,” Lawson said. “I redid the kitchen and the bathroom and some serious exterior work. It was a pain in the butt, but it’s really damn rewarding.”

“We’re at the stage where everything needs to be done so we’re not sure what to tackle first. Bailey started pulling down wallpaper and then stopped.”

“I didn’t know what I was getting into. I’ll get back to it after the play.”

“Play?” Lawson asked, lifting his beer halfway to his mouth. “Are you an actress?”

Lawson still didn’t trust me since the one and only time we’d met I had called him to report a corpse and then when he’d arrived it hadn’t been there. I think he was implying that liars are actresses and vice versa.

“No. I’m directing a production at the senior center where my grandmother hangs out. I inherited this project under duress.”

“If you need help I’ll jump in on costumes with you,” Alyssa said.

She was dressed demurely tonight for her. She had on a chambray swing dress with a ruffled neckline. No cleavage. Which didn’t stop Lawson from eyeing her chest anyway. When he wasn’t being skeptical of me and when he thought no one was looking, he was checking out Alyssa in a way that made me think maybe this relationship had legs.

“Thanks, that would be great. Tomorrow is Mary’s funeral so I think the seniors would appreciate it if we threw in something a little extra special for them. Kick their costumes up a notch.”

“One of her actresses died,” Alyssa told Lawson. “Heart attack on stage.”

“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I guess that’s a risk when you’re working with seniors.”

Our first practice had been a mixed bag. The mood had been melancholy because of Mary, but much to my surprise Clifford had returned to his role of Pyramus, looking no worse for the wear.

“Or when you’re stabbing people with knives,” Jake said wryly. He flipped his menu over for the third time like it was going to present him with different options.

We were at a wine bar with tapas offerings and I knew him well enough to recognize he felt ripped off. He’d been expecting a steak in return for being forced to sit through this double date and instead the menu was all small plates. A stuffed date on a plate was just going to piss him off.

“I think I missed something,” Lawson said easily. “Sounds like a story someone needs to tell.”

“You tell him, Bailey,” Alyssa said.

She was sucking on the lime from her cocktail.

Lawson cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing as he watched her.

No one was going to listen to me if I told this story. That was clear to me.

But I went for it anyway, giving the whole breakdown, hand gestures and all. It sounded almost as shocking in the retelling as it did when it was actually happening.

It was also wasted breath.

“So would you just assume that was an accident with all those witnesses?” Jake asked Lawson.

“Sounds like an accident to me.” Lawson shrugged.

“That’s what I thought. Bailey isn’t so convinced.”

“There’s been a lot of death at the senior center,” I protested. “It’s alarming.”

“It’s a senior center. They’re elderly,” Alyssa pointed out.

“Okay, so three against one. No one thinks it’s odd. I get it. But I’m entitled to my opinion.” I picked up my wine and took a sip that was too big for a lightweight like me.

Jake’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t say anything.

My phone was sitting on the table next to my plate. I had put it there because I’d brought a small cute purse that was no match for a phone, lip gloss, wallet, sunglasses, and car keys. The keys were Jake’s but whenever we went out together he asked me to put them in my purse. Tonight that meant there was no room for my phone so it was on the table and it was lighting up with notifications from Sara Murphy.

I ignored them until it went off for the fifth time.

“Who’s texting you?” Alyssa asked.

“Sara.”

“Your new best friend.”

That made me roll my eyes. “She’s probably asking about the funeral for Mary.”

But there was also clearly a photo attached.

Curious, I opened it.

It was a photo of James looking rather cozy with a man I thought was the guy with the fresh tattoo.

Did a deep dive into socials. Found this. Besties? Brothers? Lovers?

At least someone took my concerns seriously.

I showed the photo to Alyssa. “Isn’t this the tattoo guy?”

She glanced at my screen. “Yep. That’s him.”

“Tattoo guy?” Lawson asked.

“He was friends with the janitor and he had a memorial tattoo with the date of his death before James’s ex-wife slash girlfriend seemed to know. She did look genuinely shocked to hear he was dead so we believed her. But that guy had to know. Unless someone else close to him just happened to die the same day.”

It was very coincidental to me.

Alyssa was perusing the menu and didn’t seem to agree with me. Or just didn’t care.

Neither did Lawson. He tapped Alyssa’s menu. “Want to share the oysters?”

“No. Get your own.” She gave him a flirty smile. “The description says it’s only two oysters.”

I put my phone back on the table and flipped it so the screen was face down.

“You’re so cute,” Lawson said, leaning over and kissing Alyssa on the temple.

She giggled.

Jake squeezed my knee under the table. I gave him an “oh boy” smile in return. Alyssa never giggled. She was definitely a smitten kitten. I was genuinely happy for her. I had always held out hope that someday she would get off the dating app merry-go-round and find a guy who understood how incredible she was.

It would be great if Lawson Hill was that guy.

“So is this your thing?” Lawson asked. “Doing this Nancy Drew thing?”

Or maybe it would be great if Alyssa fell in love with someone other than Lawson Hill.

“Nancy Drew thing?” I asked. “Can you define that? There were different variations of Nancy Drew over the years. There was the original book series, then the movie, and a TV show. I think it’s even an interactive game now. But at any rate, in most versions she’s blonde and sixteen to eighteen years old.”

Alyssa frowned at me. “Stop being a smart ass.”

“I think he was being a smart ass first.”

Or dismissive and patronizing. One of the two.

Jake squeezed my knee again.

“Bailey has a background in criminal justice,” he said. “She’s currently working with our department as a consultant.”

I was grateful that he had my back and made me sound way more professional than I actually was. I was also annoyed that his explanation was so readily accepted by Lawson.

“Oh, understood,” Lawson said.

I didn’t know what he understood exactly.

But when Alyssa shot me a pleading please-be-nice look, I let it go with a bright smile.

“I have better shoes than Nancy Drew. In the original series she seems to be wearing very practical shoes all the time.”

He had seen me screaming about a corpse that hadn’t existed. Maybe he had the right to wonder about me. Whatever.

Jake had been right. We could have been doing much better things tonight.

“Are you all ready to order?” the server asked.

“I’m good with my drink,” Jake said.

That meant he was refusing to eat anything on this menu and we would be stopping at McDonald’s on the way home. It made no sense to me, but he was who he was.

He hated small plates and he would starve to prove it.

“I’ll have the scallops,” I said.

She turned her attention to Lawson and Alyssa and I smiled at my boyfriend. “Not hungry?”

He leaned in so only I could hear him. “You owe me big time for this.”

“I think I owe myself too.”

He laughed. “You’re cute,” he said, echoing Lawson’s words.

That made me laugh too.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Sara.

Had a thought. Call me!!!!

I’m at dinner, call you tomorrow.

Kk, see you at the funeral!

There were multiple smiley emojis after that.

Which seemed like an odd choice, but we all grieve differently.