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  A hand squeezed her shoulder and Trinity’s face appeared behind her in the mirror. “You look amazing. Noah is going to lose it when he sees you coming down the aisle.”

  “I look like you on a normal day,” Josie observed.

  Trinity laughed and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh please,” she said.

  The photographer snapped several photos of the two of them. Trinity’s black hair floated at her shoulders. The cobalt blue of the bridesmaid’s dress Josie had chosen was a lovely contrast against Trinity’s porcelain skin. As always, her make-up was impeccable.

  From the corner of the suite, where she sat at a small, round table, Josie’s grandmother, Lisette Matson, laughed. “Imagine, Josie. You could look like a movie star every day with a bit of make-up.”

  Trinity laughed and reached up to adjust a strand of Josie’s hair. “I’m not a movie star, remember? I’m a journalist.”

  “Who’s about to have her very own show on national network television,” Lisette pointed out. “I’m happy for you, dear.”

  Josie turned and raised a brow at Lisette. “I wear make-up. Just not… industrial-strength make-up.”

  On the other side of the room, two heavy wooden chairs with crushed velvet cushions had been placed side by side for Misty and Gretchen to occupy while the hair stylist and make-up artist continued working their magic. Misty, her face upturned while the make-up artist brushed foundation along her jawline, said, “I ask her if I can do her make-up all the time, and she says no.”

  Josie said, “I certainly don’t need this much make-up for work.”

  Beside Misty, Gretchen scowled as the hair stylist used her fingers to work mousse into Gretchen’s short, spiky brown and gray hair. “That’s true,” she agreed.

  “I need to sit down,” Josie said. She padded over to the table and carefully sat across from Lisette. She reached out for a piece of fresh fruit from the bowl that the resort had provided, but Trinity dashed over and smacked her hand. “No. No eating with that dress on. Not until after the ceremony.”

  “You have to be kidding me,” Josie said.

  Trinity’s flinty gaze bore down on her. “You know I’m not.”

  The heavy door to their suite opened and their mother, Shannon, swept in. She beamed at Josie. As she drew closer, studying Josie with obvious pride and awe, the photographer snapped more photos. “Look at you! Absolutely stunning.” One of her fists opened to reveal a crumpled tissue which she pressed to her eyes.

  “Mom,” Trinity complained. “You’re going to ruin your make-up.”

  “I can’t help it,” Shannon said. “Besides, if you think I’m bad, wait till you see your father. He’s a mess.” She placed her other hand on Josie’s shoulder. “For thirty years, we thought this day was out of reach. Gone from us forever.”

  Josie patted her hand. “I know.”

  “Dammit,” Trinity said. “I said no crying! No crying at this wedding.”

  Josie laughed and glanced at Lisette, who had a twinkle in her blue eyes. Josie had been born to Shannon and Christian Payne. When she and her sister were only three weeks old, a former housecleaner, Lila Jensen, set the Paynes’ home on fire with the babies inside. Their nanny managed to rescue Trinity, but Lila stole away with Josie and passed her off as her own child for years. Both local authorities and the Paynes believed that Josie had perished in the fire. But Josie had been taken two hours away to Denton, where her vile abductor told Lisette’s son, Eli Matson, that Josie was his daughter. He had no reason to disbelieve Lila and had raised Josie as his own until his death when Josie was only six years old. Josie had lived in terror, enduring one trauma after another at the hands of Lila, until Lisette got custody of her at age fourteen. From then until three years ago, when the truth finally came out and Josie was reunited with the Paynes, Josie and Lisette had only had each other.

  Josie had married her high school sweetheart, Ray Quinn, just after college, but that wedding had been small with a limited number of guests, and the only family members in attendance had been Lisette and Ray’s mother. No one had walked Josie down the aisle to Ray, and that had suited her just fine at the time. Her life to that point had hardly been normal, and she had endured all of her hardships largely on her own. It had made sense to her that she alone should walk down the aisle to her groom. Now, her biological father was in her life. They’d formed a bond over the years, and she was thrilled to have him there to walk her down the aisle to Noah Fraley.

  “How are things on the groom’s side of the hall?” Misty asked before any of them could dissolve into happy tears.

  Shannon waved the tissue in the air. “Oh, you know, it’s a mad house over there. Only Noah is completely ready, and Harris is chasing the dog around the suite.”

  “Dammit,” Misty said, pushing the make-up artist away. “I’ll go over there and tell him to settle down.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said the photographer, following Misty out of the bridal suite.

  Harris was Misty’s four-year-old son. After Josie and Ray broke up, Ray had fallen hard for Misty, but he had died before their son was born. Oddly enough, Josie and Misty had become very good friends in the wake of Ray’s death. Harris, together with Josie and Noah’s Boston Terrier, Trout, was supposed to be on ring-bearer duty.

  “I don’t know why you two insisted on having the dog in the ceremony,” Trinity said, not for the first time.

  Shannon said, “Trinity, really. It’s Josie’s wedding. She can do whatever she wants—and she should.”

  Trinity folded her arms across her chest. “Well, as her unofficial wedding planner, I objected strenuously to having the dog in the ceremony.”

  Josie laughed. “Unofficial? Really? I can count on one hand the number of decisions I got to make about this wedding.” She turned to Shannon and Lisette. “She even booked the band!”

  Trinity said, “It’s the Walton-Marquette Project, out of Chester County. You remember them, right, Mom?”

  Shannon nodded. “We saw them at the Winter MusicFest. They’re fabulous. Everyone will love them, Josie.”

  Josie waved a hand. “I know they will. Honestly, I’m grateful for all your help, Trin. But having Trout in our wedding is non-negotiable. It will be adorable, and the owners, Celeste and Adam, were fine with us doing it and having Trout here all weekend.”

  Lisette said, “I can’t imagine a better wedding venue, Josie. This place is amazing.”

  Josie stood and walked over to the large windows that overlooked the northeast edge of Harper’s Peak’s grounds. They were empty save for two men striding across the expansive lawn below. One wore a maroon polo shirt and pressed khakis, the uniform of resort staff. The other man wore a light-colored suit, but Josie recognized him as Tom Booth, the resort’s managing director. When Josie first met him, she thought he was just Celeste Harper’s assistant since he was usually found at her side with an iPad in his hands, tapping away at the screen while she barked instructions. As he hurried across the lawn, she saw the iPad tucked beneath one of his arms.

  The Harper’s Peak property had originally been a homestead settled by the Harper family in the early 1800s. It encompassed hundreds of acres of land spanning two mountaintops. Initially, there was an old stone house which now served as the personal residence for the resort’s present-day owners, Celeste Harper and her husband, Adam Long. There was also a tiny white one-room church that sat on one of the mountain peaks. The original Harper settlers had used it as a schoolhouse as well as their place of worship. Now it hosted wedding ceremonies.

  Subsequent generations of the Harper family had added additional buildings to their estate. First, the Harper family built the large bed and breakfast which now served as a sought-after location for wedding parties to assemble and prepare for the ceremony and reception. It had been named Griffin Hall after Celeste’s father, Griffin Harper. Then, years later, a larger hotel and resort was built beside it. The grounds of Harper’s Peak were breathtaking with their carefully ma
nicured gardens and mountain overlooks. Josie would have chosen the resort for their wedding based on the photos of the venue alone. Her heart fluttered imagining that in just a couple of short hours, she’d be standing in the tiny church on one of the overlooks staring into the hazel eyes of her new husband, Noah.

  A door slammed in the hallway. Seconds later, Misty and the photographer entered the bridal suite. With a tight smile, Misty said, “Things are settled over there. It wasn’t too bad.”

  She sat back down in her chair and let the make-up artist finish up. Beside her, Gretchen waved off the hair stylist so she could check an alert on her phone. The photographer said, “Shall we get some photos of you with your mother and grandmother?”

  “Sure,” said Josie.

  Lisette stood up and grabbed her walker, shuffling over toward Josie. “Shall we take them in front of the window?” she asked.

  The photographer smiled. “Sure, let’s try that.”

  Gretchen stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  Josie heard the door to the groom’s suite across the hall slam again as Gretchen left the room.

  “What’s going on?” Josie said.

  Trinity said, “What?”

  Josie said, “Something’s going on.”

  Lisette said, “You’re getting married, dear. That’s what’s going on.”

  Everyone laughed. Except Misty. Josie stared at her. “Misty?”

  She said nothing. From the corner of her eye, Josie saw motion outside. Turning back to the window, she watched as Gretchen and their colleague—and one of Noah’s groomsmen—Detective Finn Mettner strode across the grounds, headed in the same direction as the staff members. Tracing her mental map of Harper’s Peak, Josie tried to figure out where they might be going. In that direction was the church where they were about to be married. Celeste and Adam had arranged for a pre-wedding gathering downstairs where guests could mingle, have hors d’oeuvres and drinks before the ceremony. They’d be transported to the church in a resort car roughly a half hour before the proceedings began. It made sense that the staff might be heading out there to open the church and get things ready, but why were Mettner and Gretchen headed that way? There was an urgency in the way they walked that set Josie’s teeth on edge.

  Shannon said, “Nothing is going on, Josie.”

  Josie pointed out the window. “Where is everyone going? I just saw Tom and another staff member, Gretchen, and Mett—” she stopped speaking as their Chief of Police emerged from the first floor of the building and went after the two detectives. “And Chief Chitwood just went that way. Toward the church.”

  Trinity touched Josie’s elbow, trying to gently turn her attention back to the photographer. “They’re probably just setting up. Celeste told me the church is locked except for weddings.”

  Josie looked into her sister’s striking blue eyes. “You don’t need two detectives and the Chief of Police to set up for a wedding.” She turned back to Misty. “What’s going on?”

  All eyes went to Misty, who wore a grimace. “It’s nothing to do with the wedding, Josie.”

  Josie held her skirt in both hands and shuffled over to Misty, looking down into her face. “Tell me.”

  Softly, Misty said, “He told me not to.”

  “Who?”

  “Mett. He said not to ruin your day.”

  “Misty.”

  Tears glistened in the corners of Misty’s eyes. She choked out the words, “They found a body.”

  Behind Josie, the other women gasped.

  Shannon said, “What? Where?”

  “I don’t know,” Misty said.

  Josie moved toward the door, but Trinity rushed across the room and blocked her way. “Josie, this is your wedding day. You’re not a detective today, you’re a bride. I know how dedicated you are to your work, but you are allowed to take time off to tend to your personal life. You’re marrying Noah today. Make that your priority. You’ve got very capable colleagues to handle whatever is happening out there.”

  Josie stared at her sister, feeling herself relent.

  Shannon walked over and again, touched Josie’s shoulder. “Misty said they found a body. It doesn’t mean there was any kind of foul play. It could be someone who had a medical event—a heart attack or something—and passed.”

  “Right,” Josie said. “You’re right.” She smiled. “Let’s take those photos.”

  But as she walked back to the window, she saw Officer Hummel, dressed in a suit since he was one of their wedding guests, stalking off in the direction everyone else had gone. Hummel was the head of Denton PD’s Evidence Response Team. “Misty,” Josie said. “Did they say anything else about the body? Anything at all?”

  Misty gave a long sigh.

  Trinity said, “Don’t.”

  Misty said, “She’s going to find out eventually, whether it’s now or after the wedding.”

  “Then let her find out after, Misty.”

  “I don’t lie to Josie,” Misty announced. “Mett told me out in the hallway before he left. It was a child, Josie. A young girl.”

  Josie felt as though someone had punched her in the gut. One hand rested over her stomach. “What else? What else did Mett tell you?”

  “Nothing else,” Misty said. “That’s it.”

  Lisette said, “Josie, I know this is terrible. It’s a horrible, horrible thing. No one knows that better than me, but this is your wedding day.”

  “Please,” Shannon said. “You’ve got over fifty guests downstairs, and Noah. Sweet, wonderful Noah. This is his day, too.”

  Lisette added, “You don’t have to fight all the fights, Josie. Not every case is your burden to bear.”

  Josie knew this was true.

  But a child, said a voice in her head.

  Misty stood up and walked over. “They’re right, Josie. I know it’s difficult to go on and have a happy day after hearing about something so awful, but you have to try. You deserve to have a beautiful day. There are others on your team who can handle this just as well as you would.”

  Josie knew this was true as well. Her colleagues were the very best in the business. Of course, with her and Noah getting married, that left Gretchen and Mettner to do the work. Josie walked over to the dresser where a clutch purse rested with her personal items inside. Taking out her phone, she said, “I’m just going to call Gretchen.”

  “Josie!” Trinity objected, but the phone was already ringing.

  Gretchen answered on the fourth ring. “Boss,” she said. “I might have to forfeit my place as a bridesmaid.”

  “I understand,” Josie said. “What’ve you got?”

  They dropped easily into work speak, Gretchen rattling off details in the tone she used on every case. “Young girl, twelve or thirteen, possibly. Laid out at the base of the church steps like she’s sleeping. No obvious signs of trauma.”

  “So you don’t know if it’s a homicide,” Josie said.

  There was a second of hesitation. “Let’s just say it’s suspicious.”

  “You think she was a guest here?” Josie asked.

  “Not sure, but it will be easy to figure out. If any guests are looking for a missing twelve- or thirteen-year-old with white eyelashes, we’ll know they’re looking for this girl.”

  Josie felt a cold shock go through her. “What did you say?”

  “Her eyelashes. They’re white. It’s the strangest thing. But it’s a pretty distinct feature, so…”

  Josie had stopped listening. The hand that held her phone dropped to her side. Her phone fell onto the carpet.

  Trinity walked over and tugged at Josie’s elbow. “Come on, now. Let Gretchen handle this. You know she’s more than qualified.”

  Josie heard Lorelei Mitchell’s voice in her head. Poliosis. It’s a genetic thing. Harmless. Just the absence of melanin in your hair or eyelashes. She hates it, but I think it makes her look striking.

  “I have to go,” said Josie. This time, when Trinity tried to block her way, Josi
e pushed her aside and strode toward the door. She was only vaguely aware of the chorus of protests at her back. The door to the groom’s suite opened only a second after Josie emerged. Out stepped Noah, looking so handsome in his tuxedo that it momentarily took her breath away.

  “Josie,” he said.

  They stared at one another. In a dim corner of her mind, Josie realized it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony. But the bad luck had begun long before this moment, hadn’t it? When the young girl in front of the church died.

  Noah’s eyes traveled the length of her body and then back up to her face. His jaw hung open for a second. Then he closed his mouth and swallowed. “Wow,” he said, voice husky. “You look… amazing.”

  “So do you,” she breathed.

  For a moment, she considered going back to the bridal suite, taking all the requisite photos, and then heading downstairs to the wedding hall as if nothing outside was amiss. She could walk arm-in-arm with her biological father down the aisle toward this man. This lovely, incredible, kind, decent human being that she loved with her whole heart. They could say their vows and dance into the night, their partnership strengthened by their promise to one another. No one would blame her. In fact, Josie knew everyone who had come for this event would be very upset with her if she didn’t do that.

  Noah said, “Misty told you about the body.”

  Josie nodded.

  “What did she say? They wouldn’t tell me anything other than that they found a body.”

  “She said it was a little girl, Noah. They found her outside the church.”

  His face took on an expression of sadness.

  Josie said, “I saw Hummel heading in that direction. They wouldn’t need an Evidence Response officer unless…”

  “It was a murder,” he finished.

  “Suspicious,” Josie corrected. “I talked to Gretchen.” She relayed what Gretchen had told her about the girl’s eyelashes.

  “You met her,” Noah said.

  Josie nodded. “The day we hit the deer and her mother took me back to her house while you went for help. Her name was Holly.”