Page 95 of The Bride Wore White

“Back at the start I wondered why the killer used such an expensive handmade gown for a murder. We assumed it indicated the depths of a violent obsession, but that wasn’t it at all. It was a matter of convenience.”

“Not just convenience,” Ella said. “I knew buying another wedding gown, even an inexpensive one, would attract attention. I was Mrs.Rollins Dover, after all. There would be talk. Gossip. I could not have that.”

“Why did you feel you needed a wedding gown to stage Gilbert’s murder?”

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my idea. That scene in the honeymoon suite was Rollins’s doing. Once I convinced him it was time to get rid of his brother, he became fixated on a plan to use the death to humiliate Clara. I have to admit, I did find that aspect of it appealing.”

“Because you hated Clara, too.”

“Oh, yes. We both knew that when the press got hold of the photos of the murder scene, the gossip about Gilbert’s sexual eccentricities would be all over San Francisco. Clara would be mortified. Rollins insisted on using you as the Killer Bride. He thought that would not only humiliate Clara but would ensure that her rage was focused on you. Rollins was always afraid of Clara, you see. He did not want her to suspect him.”

“How did you find me in Adelina Beach?”

“After we developed the plan, we hired a private investigator. You had moved and left no forwarding address, but you did not change your name. It took a while, but the detective finally located your old housekeeper. She had some correspondence from you that was postmarked Adelina Beach.”

“Rollins sent Tapson to murder me back in October, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Tapson failed and landed in the hospital. Rollins panicked and got rid of him.”

“With a pillow? The same way you killed Clara?”

Ella smiled. “Where do you think I got the idea?”

“When did you find out that Harley Flood had been fathered by Copeland Dover?”

“Rollins and I both realized from the start that he was a fraud,” Ella said. “All that nonsense about Clara’s delicate nerves due to her psychic talents was almost laughable.”

“Because Clara Dover had nerves of steel.”

“Right up until she began to receive treatments from Dr.Harley Flood. At first, Rollins and I assumed he was just in it for the money. To give him his due, he was a very good con artist. But I began to realize what was going on when Maud Hollister insisted Flood was an excellent doctor for Clara. There was something about the way she looked at Flood that made me realize the two of them had a personal connection.”

“How did you discover the truth?”

“Quite easily,” Ella said, her voice suddenly featherlight and inviting and laced with a dark music. “I asked Maud a few questions in private.”

Energy shivered in the front seat of the Ford. Prudence felt her pendant grow warm as she resisted the pull of the currents.

“I’m surprised Maud admitted that Harley was her son by Copeland Dover,” she said. “Maud had her own plans. Why would she confide in you?”

“It’s true that Maud had been keeping Dover family secrets for so long it had become a habit. But she and I had a very interesting conversation.” Ella smiled a little, and the energy in her eyes got a little more intense. “Afterward she did not remember anything she said to me.”

Prudence cocked her head, listening to the compelling music of Ella’s voice, and then she, too, smiled. “Oh, I see. You’ve got some psychic talent of your own. You’re a true hypnotist.”

Ella blinked, startled. But she recovered quickly. “You’re the only person who has ever understood that. I suppose it takes a psychic to recognize another psychic. At the start I was certain you were a fraud, like most people who claim to possess paranormal talents. But after you escaped the honeymoon suite at the Pentland Plaza without getting caught, I began to wonder if you might be the real deal. After all, you had also survived Tapson’s attempt to murder you. What were the odds that you had simply gotten lucky twice?”

“I don’t know. Math is not my strong suit. You could ask Jack Wingate. He’s an expert when it comes to calculating probabilities.”

Ella ignored that. “Did you somehow put Tapson into that coma?”

Prudence smiled. “I’m just a dream reader, one who faked it most of the time.”

Ella looked annoyed. “What does that mean?”

“You plan to murder me. Why should I explain myself to you?”

“Tell me about your talent.” The dark music surged through Ella’s voice once more, compelling, inviting, almost irresistible.

Almost.

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