Bridal Shop Mysteries: Books 1-3 Read online

  Bridal Shop Mysteries

  Books 1-3

  Murder in White Lace

  Murder in Crimson Velvet

  Murder in Blue Gingham

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Bridal Shop Mysteries | Book One: | Murder in White Lace | Karen Sue Walker

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Bridal Shop Mysteries | Book Two: | Murder in Crimson Velvet | KAREN SUE WALKER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Bridal Shop Mysteries | Book Three: | Murder in Blue Gingham | KAREN SUE WALKER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE END

  Bridal Shop Mysteries

  Book One:

  Murder in White Lace

  Karen Sue Walker

  Copyright © 2016 by Karen Sue Walker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locales, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  Cover design: Kim of Kim’s Cozy Covers www.kimscozycovers.som

  Story consultant/audiobook narrator: Jasmine Curry www.jasminecurry.net

  Visit the author’s newsletter at www.karensuewalker.com and sign up for her newsletter for the latest news about sales, giveaways, and updates.

  To Jasmine, for helping my dream come true.

  CHAPTER ONE

  "HI, MAXINE!"

  Max Walters cringed. Her name was Max. It wasn't short for anything, and especially not Maxine. Her mother said she named her after Max Planck, the famous physicist, and her father said he named her after Maxfield Parrish, the painter. Max always suspected they thought they were having a boy, but they would never admit it.

  She forced a smile and said hello to the neighbor passing her on the beach. The morning sun peaked through the haze for a moment, and there was no reason to let little things irritate her. She went back to searching for sea glass among the sand and pebbles.

  And then she saw it—a flash of red. She reached down between some seaweed to retrieve the rarest of sea glass. She grabbed it before a wave hid it in its bubbly froth, and then hurried back to the damp hard sand.

  She stared at the stone in her hand. Sea glass was usually worn by the sand and waves to a weathered finish. This was definitely not sea glass. This was clear and faceted, and she wondered if it had fallen out of someone's ring. After staring at it for a while, she put it in her pocket along with the five pieces of sea glass she'd discovered this morning.

  She walked as far south as she could until the rocky cliff met the sea and boulders blocked her path. At the age of eight or ten, she would climb like a mountain goat over the rocks to investigate the tide pools on the other side. She peered through the haze and faintly saw the hotels lining Laguna Beach. Crystal Shores sat between Laguna and Long Beach, almost unknown to anyone but locals. Those locals knew the village was a quiet retreat from the traffic and hubbub of Orange County. Decades ago, it had been an affordable retreat, but that was no longer the case. Most of the cottages along the beach had been torn down and replaced by huge modern mansions and pseudo-Mediterranean villas. How long before all of the cottages in Crystal Shores were torn down?

  She walked four blocks to her home, a one-bedroom apartment over her dad's garage. She opened the back door of his house into his kitchen. Grabbing a bowl out the cupboard, she spooned some oatmeal out of the rice cooker. He always set up breakfast the night before. She poured herself a cup of coffee, took the half and half out of the refrigerator, and sat down at one end of the huge oak dining table.

  "Good morning, sunshine," Richard Walters called out as he walked into the room wearing a t-shirt and baggy pajama pants with bright yellow happy faces on them.

  "Hi, Dad. What are you doing up so early?" she asked. As an artist, her dad made his own schedule.

  "What do you mean? It's after nine." He paused. "Oh, very funny. I was out late last night."

  "On a date?" She tried to sound casual, but she didn't want to think of her dad with another woman other than her mom. Not yet. But she knew several single women had their eyes on him. And why not? With kind blue eyes (the color of Lake Michigamme, he used to tell her when she was little) and silvery highlights in his hair, she had to admit he was handsome. She had inherited those blue eyes from her dad, but not much else. At six feet tall, he towered over her 5'4" frame. She also had her mother's brown hair. She once called it mousy, and her mother had corrected her. "We have chestnut hair," she had said. At the time, Max had rolled her eyes.

  "No, it wasn't a date. Not that it's any of your business," he said, pretending to be gruff. "So it's your first day without Darlene," he said, changing the subject. "You ready to run the shop on your own?"

  Darlene owned Wedding Belles Bridal Salon, where Max worked. Darlene was on her way to her first vacation in years, a cruise on the Mediterranean. She had fussed about leaving Max on her own, but Max had worked for her on and off since she was sixteen, which was almost ten years now. She was perfectly capable of running the shop for a week.

  "I'll be fine. It'll be hectic without an assistant, though. Darlene has been advertising for an assistant for weeks. She even told me I could hire one, but I think she just said that because she was tired of me asking about it. Anyway, it’s not like I have time to find someone."

  "You seem to go through a lot of assistants." He took a long sip of co
ffee. "Darlene’s not an easy woman to work for, that's for sure." He got up and scooped up a bowl of oatmeal for himself.

  "Dad, I have something to tell you," Max said. She didn't want to put it off any longer.

  "Sounds serious." He sat back down at the table with his oatmeal. "What is it?"

  "I got a call first thing this morning from my old boss at Bissette. They've offered me a position," she said.

  "Oh.” He stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Looking to get your old job back?"

  "No, they don't have any openings for pattern makers right now. They do need an assistant designer." She waited for his reaction.

  It was a moment before he spoke. "Max, that's great! That's the job you always wanted."

  "So you're not upset about me moving back to New York?"

  "Upset? Of course not!" He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Sweetie, when you moved back to help with your mom last year, I knew it was only temporary. She's been gone almost six months now. She'd want you to get on with your life. I know working in a bridal shop in Crystal Shores isn't your dream job. Besides, I can take care of myself."

  She stood up and leaned over to hug him. He was the best dad ever. "The job doesn't start until May first, so I won't leave for over a month." Her new salary meant she'd be able to afford New York rent without his help. She had always relied on her parents, but she was almost 26 and it was about time to be a grown up and get by on her own.

  "Of course, I'll miss you, but I'm happy for you." Her dad stood up and took his bowl to the sink. He spoke with his back to her. "Now, you'd better get to work. I have a painting to finish." She knew he didn’t want her to see him get emotional, but it made her feel better to know he wasn’t thrilled about her leaving.

  She went out the back door, across the courtyard, and up the stairs to her apartment over the garage. While she showered, she thought about how great it would be to live in New York again. And to be a designer! Well, an assistant designer, but still. Besides, there were so many wonderful things about New York to look forward to. She could visit her favorite diner where they served the best lemon meringue pie she'd eaten in her life. She'd be making more money in the new job, so she could actually afford to eat out. She ate a lot of ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese when she lived there before. And that was even with her mom sending her monthly checks to help with rent.

  After toweling off, she put on a pair of black slacks and her favorite teal blue sweater. She saw the red stone sitting on her dresser and put it in her pocket, thinking that maybe it would bring her good luck. Although she believed you made your own luck, she liked to think magic existed in the world. She grabbed the leather jacket her mom bought for her 21st birthday. The edges of the sleeves were worn and one of the pockets was starting to come loose, but she would wear it until it completely fell apart. She locked the front door and walked down the steps and up the path to the street.

  The haze lifted early today, and the sun shone brightly. A few fluffy white clouds floated in the sky. The cool sea breeze gently caressed her cheek and she breathed in deeply. She would miss the sea air when she moved back to New York, but she couldn't wait to get back to the hustle and bustle. She walked past pastel painted cottages with perfectly tended flowerbeds. She strolled down Rose Street, which she thought was appropriately named as she noticed a beautiful peach colored rose. She reached down to smell it.

  "Stopping to smell the roses, I see." An older man was walking a tiny white dog.

  She tried to remember his name, but couldn't. Of course, she remembered the dog's. "Hi, Sparky," she said and reached down to pet the little Maltese.

  She continued on her walk, greeting an elderly woman pruning a hedge. She made a right turn at Coast Highway. She could take a shortcut down the alley, but she preferred to walk past the front of the shops.

  She unlocked the door to the Wedding Belles Bridal Salon, and the bell jingled cheerfully as she stepped inside. Her heels sank into the plush cream-colored carpeting as she walked to the office to put her purse and jacket away. She pulled up her schedule on the computer. It would be a quiet, easy day, with just one appointment at eleven. Shortly before ten, she turned the sign on the front door to OPEN.

  She went to the workroom, her sanctuary, which Darlene pretty much allowed her to set up the way she wanted it. In this room, surrounded by beautiful fabrics and dresses, she was miles away from the real world and whatever problems were out there. She pulled her latest creation off the rack. Jennifer Burns was her eleven o'clock appointment, coming in for her final fitting. Max sat in on all the consultations, and Darlene used most of her ideas for the design and the fabrics. And, of course, Max did the pattern making and sewing. And yet, Darlene took most of the credit for it, as always.

  She heard the front door jingle and a familiar voice called out her name. She felt butterflies in her stomach.

  "I'm back here," she called to him.

  "Hey, Max," the young man said, coming to the doorway. Andy Fuller wore a white shirt and pants, and his sandy brown hair fell loosely over his forehead.

  "How's it going, Andy?" she asked, trying to sound casual, ignoring the way her heart beat a little faster.

  "Oh, you know. Up to my elbows in flour since six. How 'bout you?"

  "Just getting started. Jennifer's coming in for her final fitting at eleven." She scowled at the dress. "I'm so glad to be done with this gown. She's made so many changes I can't even keep up. This is her third wedding. Wouldn't you think she'd have it figured out by now?"

  "Yeah, everyone will be glad when the wedding's over. I'm working on new cake samples for her. She was going to go with chocolate. Now she wants something different. I charge her every time, so I don't mind." He always looked at the bright side. "I almost forgot why I stopped by. How about having dinner with Stacy and me at the Crazy Fox tonight? It would be nice to catch up."

  "I'd love to," Max said. She'd hardly seen Andy at all since he came back from college with his new bride a few weeks ago. She knew it was childish to avoid him, but she couldn't help herself. "I close at six. I can be there a little after that.”

  "Great! See you there!" He gave her a hug and left.

  She felt ready to have Andy back in her life. Besides, if she kept avoiding him, he might think she still had a thing for him.

  Andy had taken a few years off from school before he decided he wanted to be a doctor. Before he left for school, Max decided to finally admit to him she was in love with him. She invited him to her apartment and made him dinner. She drank a little too much wine, trying to get up the courage to say what she felt she needed to tell him. Why she always thought he felt the same way, she didn't know. But he didn't. He explained he loved her like a sister but nothing more. He tried to be kind, but she felt as if a little piece of her heart broke off that night and would always belong to Andy. She didn't know if she would ever get it back and feel whole again.

  Telling herself to get back to work, she took Jennifer's dress to the fitting room, removed it from its plastic, and fluffed it out. Most brides would go for something simple for their third wedding, but not Jennifer. She spared no expense on her custom gown. Max went over every inch of the dress for the third time, searching for stray threads or any other imperfection.

  While she waited, she decided to get started on one of the dresses she needed to alter. She got out her seam ripper and started taking out stitches. This was the least favorite part of her job. When the door jingled, she glanced up at the clock. 11:25. That woman was never on time. She just wanted to get this over with.

  She went into the showroom and Jennifer Burns threw her designer purse on the sofa. Her blonde, highlighted hair was pulled back into a French twist, and her ivory cashmere sweater hugged her surgically enhanced curves. Her black thigh-high boots probably cost more than Max's first car. She always carried an expensive bottle of water in one hand and her phone in the other.

  Without taking her eyes from her phone, Jennifer huffed,
"I don't know why we couldn't have done the last fitting at my home."

  "I didn't want to take the chance of anything happening to your gown," Max said. Jennifer had a lot of nerve expecting her to make house calls.

  "I thought that was what plastic was for." Jennifer took a moment away from her phone to give Max a condescending glance.

  "I like to be extra careful."

  "Whatever."

  Max led the bride-to-be into the fitting room and helped her into the gown. Jennifer put her phone down briefly to get into the dress and then picked it back up. Once Jennifer stood on the raised platform in the room Max called the Dream Room, she was a vision in a mermaid style gown of silk, tulle, and vintage lace.

  Max held her breath. The dress was perfect, her most lovely creation yet. The only thing she didn't like were the sleeves Jennifer insisted on adding to hide her 38-year-old arms. It took a lot of ingenuity for Max to add sleeves to a strapless gown, but they looked as if they were a part of the original design. Jennifer took pictures of herself in the mirror with her phone.

  "It's beautiful," Jennifer said, and Max let the air out of her lungs.

  "I'm so glad you love it."

  "But the sleeves have got to go." She turned around to admire herself from all angles.

  Max couldn't speak for a moment. "But you asked us to add the sleeves."

  "Oh, I know. But I've been working out with a new trainer, and my arms are in fabulous shape. I want to show them off. Besides, I think the dress looked better without them."

  Max sighed. That's what she'd said in the first place. "Well, the wedding isn't for two weeks, so I have some time."

  "Oh no," Jennifer replied. "I'm having pictures done tomorrow. I'll need it done by tonight."

  Max said nothing, only stared at the other woman. She wanted to glare at her, but she was too polite. So much for her easy day.

  "Of course, I'll pay you extra. Does $100 sound fair?" Her attention was back on her phone again, no doubt checking out the pictures of herself in her wedding gown.

  "$200," Max answered firmly.

  "Done. I'll be back at eight."