Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

and it was beautiful with a train that trailed behind me over the white runner that had been rolled across the strand.
    As I'd kissed and thanked Melanie for making all the wedding plans, she'd confessed that she'd probably never marry. She had grinned wickedly. "I like playing the field. The grass is always greener, and all that. Marriage would cramp my style."
    Marriage had not cramped my style, I reflected. I liked the cozy feeling of belonging to someone. I wanted a family, to fill my house with children, oh not the nine children the Bartons had raised in my house, but two or three. At first I thought I'd conceive right away, but it's hard to get pregnant when your husband travels and is a workaholic when at home. Romantic evenings didn't come often enough for me in our house.
    Reliving my wedding day, I remembered how I had floated down the stairs to Binkie who was giving me away. He'd gasped when he saw me, tears shining in his eyes. "Oh! Ashley dear, you're beautiful."
    "It's Mama's dress," I said shyly. I wasn't comfortable being the center of attention. "I'm nervous," I confided.
    Behind me, Melanie said, "She'll be fine."
    Binkie said, "I happen to know that Nick is a nervous wreck, and Jon, his best man, isn't much better." He offered me his arm. "Shall we go out now, Ashley dear, and settle their nerves?"
    "Yes," I replied.
    Melanie had led our procession across the boardwalk and over the dunes, looking elegant in a pale blue gown. Watching her step daintily onto the white runner, my heart overflowed with love for my older sister who, when the chips were down, was always there for me.
    Guests turned in their folding chairs to watch Melanie march slowly and rhythmically toward the ocean as a recording of Pachelbel's Canon played.
    A white canopy had been erected midway down the beach, and the tails of gigantic white bows fluttered in the ocean breeze as playfully as the tails of a child's kite. Huge white baskets held mounds of white hydrangeas, and they were banked at the edges of the white carpet that covered the sand under the canopy.
    The sun was setting, casting red and gold rays over the scene and tinting white foam to pink. In the east, the horizon had deepened from bright blue to indigo.
    When the music switched from Pachelbel to Lohengrin , people rose up out of their chairs, oohing and aahing . Binkie said in my ear, "Ready?"
    I whispered yes and we started down the aisle that was formed by Nick's friends and mine, toward Mama and Aunt Ruby who were in the first row.
    Then I caught sight of Nick, waiting expectantly under the canopy, and I felt that everything was going to be all right.
    But was it all right I asked myself? If my marriage was what I had expected, I wouldn't be sitting out here on this deck by myself asking these questions. I'd be sound asleep, secure in the arms of my husband.
    Sighing loudly, I got up from my chair, tidied up the kitchen, and went downstairs to my room. I was the only guest to have a suite of my own. And of course like every other room in the house it was decorated in white -- white walls and carpeting, a white wicker desk in the sitting room with a white leather sofa. But a black wrought iron canopy bed dominated the bedroom with a white tailored comforter and shams.
    I heard a car door slam under the house and someone came up the stairs and let themselves in. A moment later there was a tap at my door.
    "I'm glad you're still up," Kelly said when I opened the door. "I brought you a present."
    "A present? For me?" I was delighted. How sweet of Kelly. She set a Palm Garden shopping bag, with its signature palm tree, on the sofa.
    "Go ahead, open it," she laughed.
    "You shouldn't have," I said. Why do people always say that as they are ripping the package open?
    Kelly pulled out the desk chair and sat down at the desk. She unfolded a blue and green map as I thrust tissue paper out of the bag.
    "I picked up a map of Wrightsville Beach," she said. "I don't have a good sense of direction so it helps me to look at places on a map. Good thing I live in New York where you only have to be able to count street numbers to find your way around."
    I withdrew a dress from the bag and held it out. "Kelly, this is beautiful!" I exclaimed.
    She turned away from the map. It was one of those freebies given out by Intracoastal Realty and you saw them everywhere. "I thought it would look good on you. You can wear it tomorrow."
    "My first Lilly Pulitzer," I said as I admired a