The Bride Who Lost the Safe Code

Chapter 3 The Name on the Sign-In

I told the officers the truth in the bride's ready room with the door open, so the hallway could hear.

My name is Corinne Vale. I'm twenty-nine. I work for Delia Marchetti Florals out of Bellhaven, thirty miles up the coast. I was hired for the Ashford wedding eight weeks ago. I arrived at 6:00 a.m. I left the property once, at 10:15 a.m., to pick up a specialty order of garden roses, and returned by 10:50. I was never alone in the safe room. I never had the code. I have the delivery log, the receipts, and a text thread with the bride confirming every arrangement.

The officer, a woman named Reyes with short gray hair and a calm face, wrote it all down. Then she asked to see the photo.

I showed her the mirror, the gray suit, the hand on the door.

She looked at it for a long time. Then she said, "Can you send that to me?"

"Yes."

"Do you have anything else?"

"Not yet."

"Then sit tight."

They didn't arrest anyone. But they also didn't arrest me, and that, in the Ashford house, was news. By the time they left the room, three separate cousins had wandered past the door to look in. Cole Ashford stared at me like I'd grown a second head. Ethan Ashford wouldn't meet my eyes.

Brooke came in after the officers left and sat down on the white linen couch. She didn't say anything for a minute. Her dress pooled around her like spilled cream. Up close, she looked younger than twenty-six, and much more tired.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"For the text. About the photos. That was a stupid thing to say." She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "I was scared. My mother was screaming. Garrison was telling everyone to stay calm and let the police handle it. And you were the only person in the room who didn't have a lawyer, so everyone just... looked at you."

"I know how that works."

"It's not fair."

"No."

She was quiet for a while. Then she said, "The necklace was my grandmother's. Mom gave it to me this morning and said it was mine now. I put it in the safe because we were going to wear it for the toast. And then it was gone." She looked up. "Do you think Garrison took it?"

"I think Garrison opened the safe."

"That's not the same thing."

"No. It's not."

She nodded slowly. Then she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I found this in the trash in the safe room. It was under the guest book table. I almost threw it away."

I took it. Unfolded it.

It was a receipt. Hotel stationery. The Halcyon Bay Club. Dated the day before, 4:12 p.m. At the top, in neat block letters: "Received: one (1) necklace, gold with pearl inlay, for appraisal and photography. Released to: G. Ashford."

Signed by a clerk whose handwriting I didn't recognize.

The word "released" sat on the page like a stone.

Brooke watched my face. "What is it?"

"Proof that your brother-in-law took the necklace out of the family's hands at least a day before the wedding," I said. "Which means he had it. Which means he had time to do whatever he wanted with it."

Her mouth opened. Closed. She looked like she was going to be sick.

"Why would he do that?" she said.

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

I stood up and folded the receipt into my pocket.

"Where are you going?" Brooke said.

"To see a man about a necklace."