Veiled in Death. Stephanie Blackmoore
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inside of the last hatbox. “Do you feel something?” Her slim fingers hovered over a slight split in the top panel of the luggage. There seemed to be a barely perceptible rent in the now faded, but once-lurid red satin lining the hatbox.
“Ooh, let me see.” Bev ran her plump and capable fingers over the torn fabric. “I can fix this right up. But I think I know what you mean, Pia. Maybe there’s something in there?”
The nested hatboxes seemed to contain even more surprises.
“This is like a little treasure hunt.” Pia ran her hands over the interior of the hatbox once more, her eyes lighting up. Bev took her turn, trying to smoosh her rather plump fingers into the tiny slit in the fabric. She gave up a moment later. “Mallory, can you get in there? I don’t want to tear the fabric any more.”
I slid my ring and pinky fingers into the tear in the faded satin.
Pay dirt.
My fingers connected with some kind of soft fabric, smooshed down at the bottom of the hatbox’s top panel. I felt a thrill of excitement ripple through me, heralding what seemed like a portentous occasion.
Don’t be silly.
“What is it?” The three other women crowded around me as I worked on extricating what felt like a soft bundle of flattened fabric. Even baby Miri looked mildly curious as she gummed her silicone rattle.
“I almost have it.” In a final whoosh I pulled out a swath of stunning and ancient-looking lace. The fabric kept coming and coming, much like a silk tie produced by a magician performing a trick.
“It’s just gorgeous.” Bev stood back reverently as I spread the swath of antique lace out on a second, pristinely clean table. “It’s the perfect length to serve as a long bridal veil.” Bev appeared just as smitten with the fabric as I was.
“Is this for sale?” I heard the catch in my voice as I stated my query. The pretty sundress was long forgotten now that I was smoothing out this lovely and intricate piece of lace.
“Yes!” Pia gave her blessing and promptly gave way to a sneezing fit. “I mean, is that okay, Mom?”
June handed her daughter a tissue and paused for a second as she turned her keen eyes on the runner of lace. “Of course, honey.”
“It’s a bit aged,” Bev mused as she traced a delicate star pattern around the edge of the fabric. The pretty lace was largely intact, with only a few snags in the delicate pattern. But the fabric had mellowed over who knew how many years into a deep champagne color. “Nothing a little OxiClean won’t gussy up!”
“No!” This time both June and Pia yelped at the same time. Baby Miri gave a little jump in her carrier.
“It’s too delicate for that,” June clarified, a bit more gently.
“I guess we could take it to a fabric restorer,” I chimed in. I knew such a person existed since I’d had some work done on the turn-of-the-century tapestries in my inherited mansion.
“We?” Bev turned to me with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
“Of course! I can see how much you love it, too.” I cocked my head and regarded the veil. “Is this something you’d want to wear on your big day? You could wear it in July, and I could wear it in the fall. It’s even long enough to ask the fabric restorer about dividing it in half.” Bev nodded enthusiastically at my ideas. But I caught June’s wince at my suggestion to divvy up the lace into two pieces.
June recovered nicely. “I’d be honored if you two ladies wore this veil at your weddings.” She pivoted and reached an arm around Pia, who had succeeded in brushing much of the dust from her sleeves and hair. “My Pia knows a thing or two about weddings.”
Pia blushed and wriggled out from under her mother’s embrace. “That was my part-time job in D.C., but this summer is dedicated to helping you make sense of all the inventory Grandma Claudia has stashed in the basement. Until I get a full-time job, that is.” She smiled. “Hopefully back in D.C.”
“You have event-planning experience?” My spidey senses perked up. My sister, Rachel, and I were looking for a new assistant to help us with our ever-burgeoning slate of weddings, parties, and events. We were thrilled to expand our business, but we’d reached the point of turning away new gigs because we didn’t have enough hands on deck.
“Just a bit. I’ve assisted eight weddings, a few retirements, and planned two baby showers on my own.” Pia grew less bashful as she described the work she’d done as an assistant in D.C. on the weekends.
“She even has a digital portfolio of her work,”June gushed. She dashed behind the front counter rife with glittering estate jewelry pieces and emerged triumphant with a slim tablet. “Look!”
Pia narrowed her eyes at her mother, then burst out laughing. “I see what you’re doing, Mom.” She included Bev and me in her amused gaze. “Now that I’ve graduated college, I’m here for the summer to help out. But then back to D.C. I go. Not that you’d have any openings in your wedding planning business anyway.”
“As it so happens, I do have an opening for an assistant.” I murmured this as I flicked through Pia’s extensive résumé and accompanying photos in her digital portfolio. “You have a wonderful eye.” The photos displayed nuanced and fresh table settings and layouts.
“I taught her well.” June beamed.
“Your personal website is lovely, too. You made all of this?” I gestured to the tablet.
Pia blushed prettily again and rightfully claimed the praise. “Yes. And I do adore event planning. Weddings are my favorite,” she added. “But Mom needs my help.”
June shook her head. The mama bird seemed to be gently pushing her daughter out of the nest, whether she liked it or not. “While business is doing well, Pia, you know I can’t take you on as a permanent employee. Even with Claudia retiring.” June sighed and took in her large store overflowing with wares. “Cataloguing and making each item here available online has stemmed some of the slowdown in antique sales. But it hasn’t cured everything.”
I sympathized with June’s sharing of her business woes. With nearly every physical good also available to shoppers online, one had to be nimble.
“And while I love helping out, I’m not sure I’d want to join the family business full-time.” Pia laughed at her mother’s mock shock at her pronouncement. The young woman was very pretty, even with a streak of dust marring her rosy cheeks.
“I don’t want to force you to apply, but we are holding interviews tomorrow to fill the full-time wedding assistant position,” I tentatively offered. “I know it’s quite last-minute.”
Pia cocked her head and seemed to ponder the invitation. Then she nodded with a serene smile. “I’d love to interview. Thank you for the invitation.”
I scheduled Pia’s interview for the next day to occur just after the other three candidates my sister and I would be meeting. As far as I was concerned, Pia was all but hired. This impromptu process was a little rushed, but sometimes the universe presented you with an opportunity. I just hoped my sister would be okay with my on-the-spot interview invitation. I gave an inward shrug. I knew Pia would be excellent, and I bet Rachel would think so, too.
June gently clapped her hands, causing baby Miri to squeal with delight. I gave the shop owner an appraising look. It seemed as if June had artfully nudged her daughter into working for me. June was a slick one. I’d let her know earlier this week that Bev and I would be stopping by. Maybe Pia just happened to be in the store, or perhaps June had arranged our chance encounter. I decided I didn’t care. Good employees were hard to find, and I had a feeling Pia would be a perfect fit.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s ring up this veil.” Pia would be a good businesswoman. She crisply changed the subject back to the sale at hand. “What do you think, Mom? Twenty dollars?”
June