“The missing waiter, Brett Harvey,” I say.
Willow gives me a troubled glance. “Sheila’s guy. He was about her age. His name was Perry something.”
“It may not be connected at all,” Asher mutters. “The snake heart tattoo, even on the wrist, is pretty common.”
“I agree,” Willow replies. “But it doesn’t make the knot in my stomach go away either. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, overthinking the crap out of the situation because we don’t have any better leads, and the cops haven’t made much progress where the guy is concerned.”
The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. Brett Harvey is surely a fake identity, which is why the NYPD have had such a hard time tracking the guy down. Asherand Toby confronted him, though, in Hell’s Kitchen, so I turn to face my brothers.
“You saw him at that apartment building,” I remind them.
“Barely, vaguely,” Toby replies.
“Did he seem to be closer to Sheila’s age?”
Asher nods once. “I’d say yes.”
“Why would Sheila’s ex-lover do such a thing, though? What did I ever do to him?” Willow cuts in, entirely unconvinced.
I place a hand on her shoulder, feeling her tremor through the layer of fine wool. The grey sweater brings out the storms in her beautiful eyes. “Have you ever considered the possibility that Sheila might have a reason to do this? And this Brett or Perry, or whatever the hell his name is, just doing her bidding?”
“That’s insane,” she says. “She got Terrence to dump me. She then hired me to do the wedding. That whole poisoning debacle ruined said wedding, and I know for a fact that the event itself was the most important thing to her.”
“All of the meanness and foul character aside, I have to agree with Willow on this,” Asher adds. “It just doesn’t click. Sheila might not like Willow, but she’d never do something so heinous.”
I want to believe that. Sincerely, I do. Because our father still loves that woman. His heart is feeble enough as it is. The last thing he needs is for it to be broken again. I doubt he’ll survive another loss of a wife.
“The snake heart tattoo is a lead worth following, though,” Toby surmises. “We can reach out to our buddy in the department and tell him about it. We might as well mentionthat Perry guy, as well. Maybe there’s a connection, or it’s just a coincidence, but we should look into it.”
“Let’s keep Perry to ourselves for now,” I say. “There’s no actual link there. Like you said, the snake tattoo is a pretty common piece of ink, and we can’t have the cops asking Sheila for details either. We can’t stir this pot without something concrete.”
I steal another glance at Willow while my brothers discuss the following steps. It’s pretty cut and dry, and it will require some financial resources to do our own digging on the matter, but it’s worth a shot.
Her gaze lingers somewhere between us. I can see her pupils dilating as she looks up, eyebrows slightly arched, as if she’s surprised all my focus is on her. But she doesn’t mind it either. Her beautiful face softens, and I battle an urge to touch her cheek.
To pull her into my arms and tell her everything is going to be okay.
There’s no point in telling her.
I have to show her.
22
WILLOW
“This was the first New Year’s Eve I’ve spent at home in years,” Jamie says as we sit in the office.
He takes out a couple of more recent florist offers and lays them out on the table between us while I do the same with a decorations catalogue from one of our favorite wedding design specialists. each page displays sewn-in textile samples, so we can get a feel for the real thing.
“I liked it. I didn’t like the not-drinking-champagne part, but I’m glad you drank enough for the both of us,” I reply, running my fingers over a layer of satin with lacy borders. “Oh, this would do well for the napkins.”
Jamie reaches over and touches it, then smiles. “In a light lavender shade.”
“Here,” I say, turning the page, where there’s a sample precisely in that color, complete with a printed view of a wedding table setting to match. “We could pair the lavender with a soft citrus kind of yellow.”
“I didn’t drink that much champagne,” Jamie quips.
“You passed out before midnight.”
