Sky High (A Nicki Valentine Mystery Book 2) Read Free

Mia’s college roommate from Maryland State. This is my husband Evan. Do you know what’s going on?”
    “No,” I answered honestly.
    “I know Bruce’s mom is sick. Is she okay?”
    “I think so,” I said.
    By now, Liz was done, and I was disappointed I’d missed what she said. Whatever it was hadn’t panicked the crowd.
    “I’m Nicki, by the way.”
    “Nice to meet you.” Raina stood and smoothed her dress. “I guess we’ll see you at the reception.”
    Dean and I stood too.
    “This is my friend, Dean.”
    “I’m Raina,” she said demurely as she stuck out her hand, which she hadn’t for me. Her husband smirked and introduced himself to both of us. Dean’s heat wasn’t lost on anyone. Even Liz was a little bug-eyed when they met.
    Dean said a friendly hello and rested a hand on my back, radiating tingles that rose like champagne bubbles to my head.
    “See you at the reception,” I said, turning toward the aisle with Dean. We needed to talk privately. Would he go ahead of me to the hotel? Or wait while I helped Mia and Liz? Or just go home? “I’ll explain everything downstairs,” I told him.
    He kept his hand in place as we inched toward the narthex with the crowd. We were both quiet, and I assumed we were doing the same thing: listening to hushed comments float through the air. Everyone was stunned by the turn of events. I heard, “Poor Mia,” “I hope he’s okay,” “Do you think he got cold feet?” and a blunt, “What an ass.”
    It was like an accident scene, complete with worry, questions, anger, and heightened energy. Thankfully, there was no visible wreckage.
    The crowd moved through the church’s massive oak archways and doors, but I turned down the interior steps, hoping only Dean would follow. A stooped, elderly gentleman fell in behind us, but I redirected him. I felt like putting up crime scene tape.
    Before venturing back to Mia, I stopped at the stairwell’s base and smiled at Dean.
    “I’m really sorry about this,” I said.
    “Don’t be sorry. Tell me what you know.”
    “Basically, the groom didn’t show up, and no one knows where he is, including the police. His bachelor party was last night, and apparently that’s the last time anyone saw him. His car is missing, too, and a search party is looking for him.” I told him about Bruce’s mom and Mia’s concern for her.
    “What a nightmare.”
    “Ever had a case like this?” I asked, only half-joking. Dean was a PI, but his specialty was technical surveillance countermeasures—also known as debugging.
    “No. I’ve heard of runaway brides, but this is a new one for me.”
    “You don’t have to stay,” I assured him. “This night could be a disaster.”
    Or a miracle , I thought . I imagined Bruce showing up sweaty and disheveled, saying his car had broken down and his cell phone was dead, so he’d jogged to his bride. Cheers would rise from the crowd, and the couple’s vows would burst with romance and meaning.
    “I can leave and pick you up later to give your family some privacy. But I don’t mind staying and helping out.”
    That sounded good to me. It also sounded like he wanted to be there, and that meant a lot.
    “Thanks. I’d love that.” I took a deep breath and reached for his hand. “So, ready to see Mia?”
    “Whenever you are,” he said.
    I pretended I was and led the way.

      
    In the short time since I’d seen her, Mia had changed—meaning she’d put on jeans and a fitted, pink T-shirt, while her wedding gown hung forlorn on the door, its train buttressed up the back. Her makeup was jarring without the dress, and her updo was half down. She looked like a distraught actress who’d just come offstage. One who wanted to go home—not to an after-party. Everyone else was still in costume, silent.
    “You guys go to the reception,” she mumbled to no one in particular. “I can’t do it.” Tears streaked her cheeks with dark makeup, which she wiped carelessly while stuffing her