Love Can Be Murder

picture of the church with a bride entering right.
    "Here's the one of you and me," Dee said, then wiped at an imaginary tear. "I look so sad."
    In the photo, Dee looked the same as always. Sad, happy, surprised—who knew? She'd had the plastic surgeon sever most of the muscles that affected expression, although the "angry" muscles had somehow managed to regenerate.
    "And this one of me and your father is grand. I already ordered a sixteen-by-twenty."
    It was a good photo—her mother looked slim and pleased at the prospect of being rid of her.
    "I ordered you a photo album—one of every shot," Dee said.
    "But I don't want a photo album," she whispered.
    "And good news—almost everyone I contacted said you should keep their gift, that you deserved it."
    "Mother, did you hear me?"
    "Except for Lilly Barkin, but she only sent a Pyrex dish, for heaven's sake. As if you could cook anyway."
    "Mother, I don't want any photos, and I don't want any gifts." Well, maybe the silver tea service, but the rest of it was going back.
    "Don't be difficult, Angora."
    "I just want to pretend as if that day never happened."
    "Well, it did happen, young lady, and I had to do all the explaining." Dee fanned herself. "Have some sympathy for me—after all, I was humiliated in front of my entire social circle."
    "You were humiliated?"
    "That's right. That church wasn't packed to see Angora Ryder be married, missy—it was packed to see Dee Ryder's daughter be married." Her mouth flattened. "And you couldn't even do that right. God, Angora, you are a colossal screw-up."
    "I think you'd better leave."
    Angora and her mother both looked up. She had forgotten that Mike Brown was still in the room. He sort of blended in with the drab walls.
    Dee lifted one eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
    "You're upsetting her. I think it's time for you to leave."
    Angora blinked—no one ordered her mother around.
    "Who are you?" Dee asked in the voice she saved for the gardener.
    "Ms. Ryder's attorney."
    Dee scoffed. "And why would my daughter need an attorney?"
    "I told you," Angora broke in hurriedly. "I was the last person to see Dr. Seger alive." She sent Mike a warning glance—if her parents thought she was a suspect in a murder case, they'd stroke out. "Mr. Brown is handling the police for me."
    Dee looked him up and down. "Looks to me as if he's handling the livestock." She shook her head. "No, this person will never do. I'll call Bennett and he'll fly up to take care of everything. You may go," she said to him, punctuated with a shooing motion.
    "Mrs. Ryder, this is your daughter's decision." He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and boldly stared at Dee.
    Dee stared back for a few seconds, then faltered. "Angora?" she chirped.
    Angora gawked. Any man who could face down her mother was someone she needed on her side. "I choose Mr. Brown," she murmured in renewed appreciation.
    "And you should be going, Mrs. Ryder," he said. "Angora needs her rest. She's had complications, you know."
    Angora coughed to bolster his argument. And in truth, she was growing tired.
    Then the door burst open and those two plainclothes police officers strode in. The hateful one, Jaffey, leveled his gaze on her. "Angora Ryder, you're under arrest for the murders of Tammy Paulen and Dr. Carl Seger. You have the right to remain silent—"
    Her mother swayed, then hit the floor face first. The cop didn't miss a beat, shouting her rights while the three men wrestled Dee into a chair. She roused and began to screech hysterically, something about the Junior League and being blackballed.
    "Do you understand your rights?" Jaffey yelled over the fracas.
    Angora nodded, then sighed. Only Dee could turn the spotlight on herself while her daughter was being handcuffed to a hospital bed.

Chapter Twenty-six

    AFTER A NIGHT IN THE COUNTY JAIL , the next-to-last thing Roxann needed was a gauntlet of reporters in the hall of the district attorney's office. But the very last thing she needed was a confrontation with her Aunt Dee in front of said reporters. Her aunt was coming out of the restroom, and when she saw Roxann, her face screwed up.
    "This is all your fault!" Jackson held his wife back by the shoulders as security guards circled. "If you hadn't interfered, Angora wouldn't be in this mess."
    Roxann bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that she was in the same mess, and her daughter wasn't exactly blameless.
    "You talked her into it, I know! Angora is a good girl—she would never do