Powdered Murder

"John," she said casually, counting my change. "And he tried to chat me up if you can believe that. His pick-up lines sucked though. I mean, he was all like hi and how are you and what's your name."

"The nerve."

"And then he asked me out for a drink around di

"You didn't go, did you?"

"No…" She avoided making eye contact. "Not exactly. Just one drink."

"Did he tell you about himself?" I waited for her to elaborate, but she wasn't the type of girl who discussed her dating dilemmas in detail. She was more of an introvert who needed some prodding. "Where he's from? What he's doing here? Where he's been?" In rehab maybe treating his Lila addiction?

"He said a few things about school." She sighed. "Some other stuff about the beach, but he mostly asked me questions the whole time. It was a lot like being interviewed for a newspaper really."

"What kinds of things did he ask about?"

"Me," she replied. "My background. My family. He wrote it all down too."

"You didn’t find that the least bit odd?"

She paused for a second and processed my question. She nodded slowly, but it didn’t seem to faze her that she could have been having drinks with a murderer. Or at least a murder's accomplice.

"I find this whole conversation a bit odd." She frowned. "You're asking just as many questions, Essie."

"I only have one more." I glanced out the front windows at the spot where Martha Millbreck exited the black BMW. "You see everything that happens on this street. How often do you see Martha?"

"Oh, I don't know. I tend to ignore family."

"Does she normally get dropped off in town so early in the morning, and by that same black BMW that was parked across the street earlier by chance?"

"Sometimes," Ada admitted. "But you know me. I stay out of all the nonsense that goes on in this town. In New York, people come and go as they please and no one goes around asking questions about it." I covered my mouth with my hand and tried not to let out a laugh. Sure, Ada liked to stay out of the way, but at the end of the day, her troubles always ended up in the arms of her mother. And her mother was a Millbreck.

"This isn't New York City, Ada. When you get so few people living in one small space, you're bound to know when one of them clogs their toilet."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I shut the door to my tiny office and changed into my red dress and tights for the wedding di

I placed my hands on my hips and practiced walking through the hallway. I approached the gym which was currently empty. Taryn had gone home and there wasn't a training session scheduled until tomorrow after the wedding festivities. To keep the event as closed door as possible, the resort had agreed to temporary close off certain parts of the hotel including the gym, the spa, the slopes, and the bar. It must have cost Patrick a fortune.

I looked at myself in the mirror, remembering what I used to say to my reflection when I was thirty pounds heavier. I usually gave myself some sort of speech about how beauty came from within. It wasn't easy to seem confident when I was disappointed that I wasn't as stick thin as Joy or as toned as Patrick's latest girlfriend. But tonight was different. I'd made the decision to change, and I did. The dress looked amazing. But the moment Patrick stepped back into my life I'd slowly been realizing that while I had definitely changed on the outside, I hadn't completely changed on the inside. I still had insecurities, even as an accomplished, fit, thirty-something. Patrick made me nervous and less confident. I cared way too much about what he thought of me.

I fixed my hair so that long, dark waves fell past my shoulders. I usually kept my hair tied up, in a braid, or under a beanie or baseball cap. My eyes darted out the window at the small town of Bison Creek. It was lit up by street lamps and it looked oddly serene from up here. I hadn't spotted John or the black BMW all afternoon. After questioning Ada and gulping down my tea, I'd come straight back to the resort and found it to be mostly empty except for the employees who were working the wedding.

I nodded at my reflection and decided it was time to make my entrance downstairs. I was anxious about a lot of things as I calmly walked down the staircase and into the staff hallway. I took my time, contemplating what to say to Patrick other than congratulations on your marriage. Maybe that was all I should say?

I left the staff hall and my heart pounded as I neared the event room that was decorated in all white for the special occasion. The guest list was small consisting of the wedding party and Patrick's parents, but Joy had dreamed big. Outside, the patio and chair lift was illuminated with lights so that a brilliant glow brightened up the tall, arched windows. Like many rooms in the hotel, there was a brick fireplace outlined with fresh greenery that made the room smell like Christmas trees. All the trim was a sophisticated looking dark wood and it contrasted neatly with the tan walls. The ceiling extended up, drawing my eye to a deer antler chandelier – an intricate piece of art work.

A long di

The china di

The first person I noticed was Lila. She was sipping a glass of red wine wearing a lacy black dress that started up at her collar bone and extended down to her mid-thigh. Her hair was curled and voluminous. Compared to her slender figure, fragile arms, and sunken face, she looked like she was wearing a wig that was two sizes too big. She spotted me and examined my outfit as she walked over, her heels clanging on the wood floor.

"Essie," she said casually, looking me up and down. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Excuse me?"

"That dress is very daring." She half smiled and kept her wine glass close to her chest. "If I wore something that revealing, everyone would think I was out for attention."