“It’s not,” Maxwell said bluntly.
“Maybe I am just losing my marbles.” Janelle pointed to the piece of the dress I still held. “But doesn’t that fabric prove someone really is stalking me?”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “It could easily just be a random scrap of cloth from who knows where.”
“Oh.” She slumped. “Then perhaps I am crazy.”
I felt bad for her because she looked so demoralized. “Look, Janelle, you need to get back inside. My advice to you is to keep your ears and eyes open, but stop obsessing about this situation. If you see that mystery woman again, tell me, okay? Don’t chase after her; just let me know, and I’ll do my best to find out who she is.”
She winced. “Okay.”
“You’re leaving with Archie for your honeymoon immediately after the reception, correct?” I asked.
“Yes. We’re going to Fiji for seven days.” She didn’t appear very enthusiastic.
“That’s good. Getting away is the perfect thing right now. If you really do have a stalker, the odds of anyone following you to Fiji are very slim.”
Maxwell nodded. “Sun and relaxation are just the ticket. You’ll feel better in no time.”
She sighed. “I realize you two don’t believe me, but I know what I saw. I’ve seen photos, and it was Kimora’s face looking at me through the window.”
“Forget about all of that,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Go back to the reception and stand beside your new husband. He looks a little lost without you.”
She smiled weakly. “I’ll try to put this to the back of my mind.” She flicked her gaze around the area. “I suppose chasing after ghosts on my wedding day is rather silly.”
“Most definitely,” said Maxwell.
She straightened her veil and gathered up her dress and then headed back toward the patio. Maxwell and I followed, and neither of us spoke. I had no idea exactly what was going on with Janelle, but I did have sympathy for her. She’d seemed convinced someone had been watching her. If she truly was being stalked, that was no little thing. I’d try to get to the bottom of it all when she returned from her honeymoon.
Chapter Five
Maxwell
Once Royce and I coaxed Janelle back inside the restaurant, the wedding festivities continued. She seemed slightly calmer after talking to us, but anxiety still buzzed beneath the surface. Stress could do awful things to people. She’d make herself sick if she kept imagining ghosts were haunting her. I really hoped a week in Fiji would help her settle down and focus on her new life with Archie.
As the afternoon progressed, I avoided River like the plague. I had no desire to see or speak to that man. As much as I loved my pool, I was seriously considering finding a new location for my clinic. After seeing how much he resented me, it was probably smart to cut all business ties with River. I’d have to make a decision soon because the construction company was going to break ground after the first of the year.
I was relieved that Janelle was able to pull herself together and focus on the wedding reception. Archie seemed happier now that she seemed more serene. They gave each other lovey-dovey toasts, smiled into each other’s eyes as they danced, and then cut the decadent-looking cake. All in all, the wedding now seemed to be rolling along splendidly.
Until Kobe Garrett got drunk and decided to make a fool of himself.
Just as the other toasts were winding down, Kobe dragged a chair into the center of the dance floor, climbing on top. He swayed back and forth, obviously inebriated. It seemed obvious from the malicious look on his flushed face that he wasn’t about to deliver an uplifting speech to the bride and groom.
“Hey, everybody, can I have your attention, please?” His voice wobbled, and he held out his arms to keep his balance. As the guests fell silent, he nodded smugly. “That’s better.”
I could feel Royce bristling beside me. Being a cop, he was always quick to jump into situations like these. But he wasn’t on the job right now, and I wasn’t sure he should get involved. When I felt him start to stand, I put my hand on his arm.
He gave me a pained look but settled back down into his seat. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”
I murmured, “Maybe he just wants to congratulate Archie and Janelle.”
“What are the odds?”
Kobe had a bottle of tequila in one hand, and he took a long swig off the bottle. Once he’d swallowed, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve been sitting here listening to all the kiss-up speeches about what a great guy Archie is.” Kobe scowled. “Frankly, I can’t take it anymore.”
“Oh, boy,” Royce said tersely. “Here we go.”
“Yes.” I sighed. “This doesn’t look promising.”
