Brek ran a hand over his face. “You at least bring us clothes?”
“Yes. Yes, I did. The tourist shop I found had a limited inventory, but I managed to get something for each of you.” He held up a nightgown with the wordsColorado: The Altitude Isn’t the Only Thing Highwritten across the chest and a T-shirt that readColorado’s Okayest Touristover an outline of the state.
“I’m not wearing that,” Velma announced.
“Brek, we’ve got an issue.” Jase maneuvered through the door and paused, glancing from Eli’s ridiculous tourist apparel, to Brek without a shirt, to the ruined dress, to Velma’s thighs. “I can come back later.”
“Just say it.” Might as well get it all over with at once.
“The goldfish aren’t making it. Not all of them, anyway.”
Say what?
“I’m not sure where you got them, but they’re like geriatric goldfish. We’ve got quite a few floaters.”
Brek glared at Velma. “Where’d you get the fish, V?”
“From a guy a lady at work knows about. He gave us a great deal.”
Brek closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. This wasn’t happening. This whole day wasn’t happening.
“How many goldfish do we have per table? Can’t you just go back and redistribute them?”
Jase shrugged. “They’ll be uneven.”
“Does that look like the biggest issue we have today?” Brek gestured around the room.
“Point made. I’ll see what I can do.” Jase took a look at the Versace gown. “What’d you do to the dress?”
“Mrs. Winthrop is coming.” Velma snatched up the damn thing and shoved it behind a potted plant. She positioned herself in front of it and crossed her arms.
She looked like a bride who’d gotten caught doing the dirty with the best man.
“Mr. Montgomery.” Mrs. Winthrop was red in the face and huffing and puffing as she hurried toward them. “Sophie’s missing. She’s not with her bridesmaids. No one can reach her.”
His heart jumped clear up to his collarbone. His sister was gonna kill him.
The phone in his back pocket buzzed. He tugged it out and glanced at the screen.
Aspen.
Chapter Eleven
“Velma?” Brek’s voice echoed through the headset.
“Still here.” Velma pushed behind a rack of choir robes in her search through the Estes Park Community Church. Sheesh, the place wasn’t huge. How had they managed to misplace the bride in a building this small?
“Did you check the pastor’s office?” The sharp concern in his voice exposed his nerves.
“That’s where I am. She’s not under the choir robes. Are you sure she didn’t leave?” Velma adjusted the belt on her makeshift dress. She’d added the ridiculous nightgown Eli had brought her underneath Brek’s shirt, so at least it fell above her knee and didn’t threaten to show the world her underwear when she bent over.
“Valet’s on alert. No way she could’ve gone that way, and Jase is standing guard at the back door.” Brek sounded out of breath.
The window creaked open. A small thread of lace flew from the hinge.
Velma clicked her talk button. “I’ve got a lead. Stand by.”
“I’ll be right there—” Brek continued speaking, but Velma pulled off the earpiece so it dangled at her shoulder. She climbed onto the bench in front of the window to search outside. Sure enough, a trail of beads and pieces of lace led across the pine needles through the evergreens. Crud-ola. A runaway bride.
