Page 25

“Accepted might be a strong word,” I said, laughing.

“But the vows certainly made things easier. And for a time, it was nice to have a family.” I sighed, realizing I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Patrick’s mother around town.

His grandmother had passed on the year after Patrick had died. She’d taken his death very hard.

Dottie squeezed my hand affectionately and said, “Well, I’ve always been a firm believer that a family isn’t necessarily the one you’re born with, but the one you make.”

The words hit me with unexpected clarity, like the first notes of a melody I’d known all my life but had somehow forgotten.

Looking at Dottie’s lined face, I realized I’d spent so many years defining myself by what I’d lost that I’d nearly missed what I’d found.

The Silver Sleuths with their bickering and bourbon, their wisdom and war stories—they’d become my makeshift family when I wasn’t looking.

Walt’s paranoia, Dottie’s medical musings, Bea’s outrageous gossip, Hank’s judicial temperament, and Deidre’s meticulous research—they’d filled the empty corners of my life with something that felt remarkably like belonging.

“You might be onto something there,” I said, my throat suddenly tight with emotion I hadn’t expected.

Dottie patted my arm knowingly, then straightened her shoulders.

“Now, let’s go see what that viper Vanessa has to say for herself.”

We approached Coastal Chic, a charmingly renovated storefront with large display windows showcasing resort wear in breezy pastels. A hand-painted sign in elegant script promised Sophisticated Coastal Style for the Discerning Lady .

“You said that Milton got what he deserved when he married Vanessa,” I said. “Did you know her before she married him?”

Dottie snorted, the sound surprisingly delicate coming from her.

“She was Judge Garfield’s granddaughter.

Everyone knew Vanessa. She was barely twenty-one and Garfield had gotten her a job working for the county clerk’s office.

That’s when Milton honed in and decided she needed a mentor if she was going to make it in city government.

Judge Garfield liked to have had a fit when he found out.

And believe me, it didn’t take long for everyone to find out.

Their affair wasn’t exactly a secret. They once got caught going at it in the public records office when they thought everyone had left for lunch.

Much to Milton’s chagrin the county clerk’s office has cameras everywhere. ”

I winced. “And Lucinda found out?”

“It would have been impossible for her not to know. Milton didn’t even try to keep it a secret. He wore that scarlet letter loud and proud.” She shook her head. “That man weaponized humiliation like no one I’ve ever seen.”

I pushed open the boutique door, setting off a delicate wind chime.

The interior was a masterpiece of coastal chic—whitewashed wood, seagrass rugs, and artfully arranged displays of linen dresses and statement jewelry.

The air smelled of an expensive sea-inspired perfume that was being pumped through the vents in the ceiling.

A woman emerged from the back room. She was tall, at least five ten, and she had honey-blond hair that waved artfully down her back.

She had high cheekbones, full lips, and suspiciously smooth skin that suggested regular appointments with Charleston’s finest cosmetic surgeons.

She wore white linen pants and a gauzy blue top that exactly matched her eyes, accessorized with enough gold jewelry to sink a small rowboat.

“Welcome to Coastal Chic,” she greeted with Southern warmth. “We just got in the most fabulous new…” Her voice trailed off as she registered Dottie, and her perfect smile flickered for just a moment. “Dorothy Simmons, isn’t it? I haven’t seen you in years. You haven’t changed a bit.”

Dottie smiled, showing a lot of teeth, and said, “Hello, Vanessa. This is my friend Mabel McCoy. Mabel, this is Vanessa Milton.”

“Garfield,” Vanessa corrected. “I went back to my maiden name after my divorce. Mabel McCoy.” She stared hard at me, narrowing her eyes in thought. “I know that name from somewhere, but I can’t place it.”

“She was Patrick DoBose’s wife,” Dottie said, touching a beaded blouse that looked terribly uncomfortable.

“That’s me,” I said, instantly disliking Vanessa.

“So tragic,” she said, her eyes looking suspiciously moist. “Patrick was a couple of years younger than me in school you know.”

Since Patrick had been twelve years older than me I wasn’t at all surprised to hear this. I’d known none of the friends he’d gone to school with when we got married.

“He had quite the reputation with the senior girls, even as an underclassman.” She sighed dramatically and then giggled as if we were all sharing a joke. “We were all just shocked when he married you. Thought for sure you had to be in the family way.”

I realized what Dottie had been talking about. Vanessa was as crazy as a possum in a knapsack.

“No,” I said, my smile sharp enough to cut glass. “I guess it was just love.”

“Hmm,” she said, her eyes full of malice. “Do you still run the little tea shop?” She smoothed her hair back from her face. “It was so good of Patrick to leave you with money so you could dabble in your interests. You came out quite well, didn’t you?”

“Except the part where my husband died.”

Dottie sniffed and said, “You’re one to talk, Vanessa Milton. Didn’t Roy give you a nice settlement so you could open this store?”

The change was immediate. Vanessa’s smile hardened into something brittle, and her hands dropped to her sides.

“I haven’t been married to Roy in twenty years,” she said coolly. “And I have no interest in discussing him now.”

“Not even to help solve a murder?” Dottie asked.

Vanessa’s eyes widened fractionally before she controlled her expression. “What murder? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Elizabeth Calvert,” Dottie said. “The two of you would’ve been the same age.”

“She was a year older,” Vanessa said. “But I knew her. Thought she was smarter than everyone because she was going off to a fancy college. But she liked to party and she liked men. Discarded them like tissues all through high school.”

“Doesn’t mean she deserved to die,” Dottie clapped back. “If it did you’d be six feet under.”

“Well, I never?—”

“Yes, you have,” Dottie cut in.

“Sheriff Beckett is reopening the case,” I said, wondering if Vanessa was the kind of woman who’d punch a senior citizen. I decided she probably was.

Vanessa laughed, but it held no humor. “And he sent you two as his emissaries? That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. What a loser. He won’t last long around here. Though he is fine to look at.”

“Whore,” Dottie coughed.

I pushed Dottie behind me in case things got physical and said, “I’ll let him know your opinion on the matter. But we’ve been deputized. Officially.” I had to say I enjoyed the flicker of disbelief that crossed her perfect features.

“Like I said, pathetic. Now if y’all aren’t going to buy anything, maybe you can go harass someone else.”

“We came to ask questions about your good-for-nothing husband,” Dottie said. “And we’re not leaving until we find out what you knew about Elizabeth’s death.”

I winced, thinking Dottie had seen way too many episodes of Law and Order . Her bedside manner with the dead was probably much better than with the living.

“Well, Deputies,” Vanessa said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Roy and I didn’t get married until a year after Elizabeth was dumb enough to go swimming in the harbor at night. I didn’t even know him while he was investigating that case.”

Dottie’s eyebrow shot up. “You lie like a rug, Vanessa. You were working in the county clerk’s office the year Elizabeth died. Everyone knew you and Roy were already boinking. If I remember right there’s video to prove it.”

Vanessa’s face flushed with anger. “You vicious?—”

“Uh, uh, uh,” Dottie said, wagging her finger. “Mabel and I don’t tolerate that gutter language.”

Vanessa straightened her shoulders and channeled the ice queen. “This is a place of business, not an interrogation room. Get out of my shop.”

Dottie put her hands on her hips and stepped closer—her head only coming up to Vanessa’s ample bosom.

Her voice lowered and she half hissed, “We can continue this conversation here, or we can have a deputy pick you up for formal questioning. I’m sure your customers would love to see you escorted out in handcuffs. ”

I decided the best course of action was to stand perfectly still and hope no one remembered I was still in the room. I had no idea if we could follow through on that threat, and I didn’t particularly want to find out. Vanessa looked like she’d be comfortable with resisting arrest.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Vanessa spat out.

“Try me,” Dottie replied, reminding me of an old gunslinger. “I spent forty years cutting open dead bodies to find the truth. You think I’m squeamish about making a scene?”

For a moment, they stared each other down like two cats on a fence.

“Fine,” Vanessa hissed, moving behind the counter. “What do you want to know?”

“Roy Milton is in prison,” Dottie pointed out. “His power is gone. The men who protected him for years are either dead or desperately distancing themselves. He can’t hurt you if you tell his secrets.”

“You think I need protection from Roy?” Vanessa laughed, but there was an edge to it. “Roy was child’s play. You think I got where I am today because I’m stupid? In the end I got more than half of everything Roy had, and he was happy to give it to me.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Let’s just say I learned early on to keep insurance policies,” she replied.

“What do you know about Elizabeth Calvert’s murder?” I asked.