Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

a tower of strength," Kelly said as we got into Melanie's jaguar. "You're lucky to have her. My mom has always been kind of frail and Dad and I have to look out for her."
    As Melanie drove up Waynick Boulevard toward the bridge at a remarkably noticeable leisurely speed, she said, "But your mom left home at eighteen and had a fabulous modeling career in New York. That took courage."
    "My mom's career is one of those success stories you read about. She was studying fashion design in New York when the famous model agent Eileen Ford saw her on the street. She stopped Mom and pressed her card in her hand and insisted she come in to see her. Mom thought it was some kind of joke and was about to throw the card away when her friends had a fit. They herded her into the Ford Agency tout de suite.
    "Mom modeled with Twiggy -- I've seen pictures of her, what a bean pole; and those false eyelashes, but that was the style in the sixties -- and Lauren Hutton. Mom lived at the Barbizon Hotel for Women, the very 'in' place for nice girls in those days, and hung out at Studio 54. That's where she met Dad. He was in advertising, a young account executive."
    "Your mother is still a beautiful woman," Melanie said as we touched down on the mainland.
    "Yes, but there's always been that sadness about her."
    I didn't say anything but thought that both our mothers were not typical moms, if there was such a thing. I wondered what kind of mother I would make when my turn came. Mama had always been so other-worldly, so lost in the fiction of the old south. In many ways Melanie had raised me.
    We pulled into Lumina Station, and even its verandas and fountains did nothing to dispel the sultry heat. Melanie headed straight for R. Bryan Collections. "I know we'll find the right things there."
    I slouched along behind them, not interested in clothes, not interested in anything . Once inside Melanie seemed to lose heart, became all fluttery and couldn't make a decision, fell into a chair. Kelly did most of the work and was able to find us outfits in thin linen, chocolate brown for Melanie, navy for me, black for herself. And large straw hats in matching colors to shade us from the sun. She drew out a credit card and paid for everything.
    " Shug , you look pale," Melanie said, peering into my face. "Doesn't she look pale, Kelly? Let's get some food into her."
    We walked to Fathoms Bistro a few doors down. A party of brave souls was sitting outside at the swinging table. "Inside," Melanie told the hostess, "where it's cool. And have someone bring us sweet iced tea right away. My sister's not feeling well."
    When the iced tea arrived at our table, she said, "Drink that now, Ashley. You look peaked. The caffeine and sugar will do you good."
    She turned to Kelly and said, "Ashley's usually so strong, but Mama's death has hit her hard."
    "Why are ya'll talking about me like I'm not here?" I asked bitterly.
    "Sorry, shug ," Melanie said sweetly, "you feeling any better?"
    "Yes, actually, I am."
    Then I smiled at her because she was so worried about me and coping with her own grief as well. While we waited for our sandwiches, we reminisced about Mama and Daddy. "Remember how we made homemade ice cream?" I asked and Melanie nodded, looking as dreamy as I felt.
    For a moment I was transported back to childhood. On hot summer afternoons, we made ice cream in our shady garden, cooled by breezes off the waterway that rustled the centuries-old live oaks. Melanie and I took turns helping Daddy turn the hand crank, which became less and less yielding as the ice cream hardened, while Mama scooped handfuls of ice cubes into the stainless steel canister. At memories like this, I miss my parents so much the loss feels like a knife slicing through my gut. Daddy was the first to go, now Mama had joined him. I comforted myself by picturing their happy reunion in heaven, where I would join them again one day.
    Impulsively I squeezed Melanie's hand, "We're the only ones left of our family. We've got to stick together, no matter what."
    "I'll always be here for you, shug . I love you, little sister."
    "Back at you, big sis."
    We grinned.
    Kelly clapped.
    As we left the restaurant, I looked out into the parking lot and spotted Mickey in his Ford Bronco, parked off to the side in a shady spot. The windows were lowered and a man was in the passenger seat. I was about to point him out to Melanie who hadn't seen him yet but hesitated because it appeared that he and the other man