Read Yellow Rose Mysteries 02 - A Wedding to Die For for Free Online

spoke. “Seems like the long way around, Quinn. Are there any obvious suspects you could zero in on and—”
    “You know I can’t discuss how to handle the case in front of her .” She said her like I was a piece of roadkill stuck to her shoe.
    Okay, that does it. I rose. “Maybe I’ll just leave you two alone.”
    Jeff touched my elbow. “Abby, I’m sure Quinn didn’t mean—”
    “Actually, Jeff,” Fielder said sweetly, “I think Ms. Rose has had enough questions for one day. But I could use your advice. Would you excuse us?” She arched those perfectly penciled eyebrows at me. She had eyes the color of cane syrup, but there was nothing sugary residing there.
    “Certainly.” I left the room feeling both their stares on my back. If I’d had my own car, I would have driven home with the radio blaring so I wouldn’t have to think about all this. But I had to wait for a ride.
    I paced in the marbled foyer, trying to deal with the green-eyed monster in a rational fashion. Fielder had a job to do. She needed all the information she could get and I had seen quite a bit. But though she had asked me plenty of questions about the crime scene, she’d asked me nothing about what I had seen or heard at the reception before Beadford’s death. I smiled. Serious oversight, baby.
    Of course, the exchange I’d witnessed between Travis and his father-in-law may not have been an argument over anything more important than what time the bride and groom would leave the reception. I had no way of knowing what transpired between those two.
    I walked in circles, my dress pumps torturing my feet and my head throbbing from the day’s stress. I was trying not to think about Jeff and his extended consultation with Fielder—it’s damn hard not to think about something—when Megan came down the right-hand staircase.
    She had changed from the stained dress into blue jeans and a coral sweater. When she saw me, she ran over and embraced me. “I’m being punished,” she said into my shoulder. “That’s why this happened.”
    I moved back, held her at arm’s length. Fresh from the shower, I assumed, what with the wet hair and scrubbed face, she looked like the child I’d thought she was when we first met.
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “I went behind my father’s back and hired you. And now I’m being punished. I never meant to hurt him.”
    “Hold on. Did you tell him the truth today? Did you two argue about that?” I didn’t want to believe Megan could have struck her father, but she was the one sitting there with his battered head in her lap.
    “No. But I wasn’t truthful, either. And that’s as good as a lie.”
    “Still, you and your father were fine today, right? No problems?”
    “The last time I saw him alive was when we d-danced. And . . . and he said he wanted me to be happy and . . . and . . .” Her eyes filled.
    I hugged her again, rubbed circles on her back all the while thinking about my own adoptive daddy. He, too, had claimed to want only my happiness. But he’d made more than one mistake in that department, and mistakes born of love still hurt just the same. “I’m here for you, Megan. Call me for anything. Anytime. And I again apologize for not finishing the job.”
    This time she drew back on her own. “You sound like you’re quitting. You’re not quitting, are you?”
    “I didn’t plan on it, but if you want to take this up later, I’ll give you every cent of your retainer back.”
    “Please don’t quit, because even though I feel guilty about keeping the truth from my dad, I still want to know my birth mother. Now more than ever.”
    I was wondering if that need to know had anything to do with what had appeared to be her rather distant relationship with Sylvia, but didn’t think this was the right time to ask. Then Jeff emerged from his little conference, and while he was offering his condolences to Megan, I went after my coat, which I found in the kitchen where I’d left it. My