Read the first chapter in Death Gone a-Rye Chapter 1 The sky was a periwinkle blue dotted with cotton ball clouds. The sound of waves crashed along the surf, intermixed with the occasional squawk of a sea gull. The light April breeze might have made the late afternoon too chilly for an outdoor wedding, but the stars had aligned and the weather was a temperate sixty-eight degrees. It couldn’t have been more perfect if we had dialed in an order to Mother Nature herself. My brother, Billy Culpepper, stood with his back to the Pacific Ocean wearing a cream-colored lightweight suit, turquoise tie and boutonniere, and a stupidly beautiful and nervous grin. His hazel eyes seemed to almost glow with the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean behind him. His best man, Terry Masaki, stood next to him in a similar linen suit, a slight wave in his fine black hair. It was parted in the middle and gave him a movie star look. The sole groomsman was Emmaline’s brother, Efram. He was wider than both Billy and Terry, had a nearly shaved head, and had cheekbones that sliced across his face. He was half tank, half man, and, from my experience with him, was the biggest teddy bear on the planet. The three men stood in front of the unbelievably gorgeous wedding arch Billy had built in his garage. He had used over thirty pieces of driftwood that he’d gathered from coastal shores during the last several months. He’d designed the arbor to be self-standing with the two support poles, two sides, and a top piece wound together from the wood. While Billy and Em were on their honeymoon, Terry and Efram would disassemble it and put it up in their backyard. From wedding arch to backyard arbor, the piece would be a constant reminder of Billy and Emmaline’s special day. Emmaline hadn’t seen the arbor yet. Billy was full of surprises for the love of his life. They’d spent years at different crossroads, always missing each other. She’d been attached, and he hadn’t. Or he’d been seeing someone when she was single. Finally, though, they’d gotten together, and now they were getting hitched. Everything was as it should be. A cluster of greenery and flowers cascaded down from the top left of the arbor, with another bouquet on the right side. White tulle had been wrapped around the frame, the ends now billowing in the gentle wind. It was magical. The outdoor patio of Baptista’s Cantina and Grill had been transformed from a dining area to a wedding venue and Miguel, who happened to be the love of my life, had closed the restaurant for the occasion. The moment the ceremony ended, he had staff ready to move the chairs that currently faced the altar, set up tables, and serve the food that was being prepared in the restaurant’s state-of-the-art kitchen, which Miguel had recently renovated. My brother’s wedding to my best friend was one for the ages. Everything was perfect. A string trio, playing a violin, a viola, and a cello, sat on white slipcovered chairs, music stands holding the sheet music. They played while the guests trickled in. Traditionally, the groom’s friends and family sat on one side while the bride’s friends and family sat on the other. Billy and Emmaline had grown up together, so, for the most part, they shared the same friends. Those friends seated themselves on either side of the aisle, while Emmaline’s family took the front row seats on the left. My dad, two of my cousins who’d up come from Los Angeles, and Olaya Solis and Penelope Branford, who were the women I’d chosen to be part of my family, sat on the right with Olaya next to my dad, Owen, and Mrs. Branford on his other side. They were bolstering him with silent emotional support, I knew. There was a hole in all of our hearts because of my mother’s absence. I looked up at the sky and closed my eyes. She might not be here with us physically, but I could feel her presence. I met Billy’s gaze and raised my eyebrows. He was marrying his soul mate, but I understood his nerves. Marriage was a big step. I knew. I’d been there once. If and when I ever did it again, it would be forever. He flipped his wrist and glanced down at his watch, then back at me. I got the message. My heart fluttered. It was time. I scurried around the chairs, noticing people I recognized as members of the Santa Sofia sheriff’s department, which Emmaline Davis ran, huddled together. Some of her staff were manning the office and streets, but a handful of them, including the captain, a new position within the department, were here to celebrate her wedding. Emmaline had stepped into the role of sheriff after her predecessor found himself in a heap of trouble. He’d run a bare-bones operation with minimal manpower to fill the typical positions within a department. Em had changed all that. She’d established a hierarchy, which included a captain who was over the criminal investigation division, freeing up Emmaline to run the department, which oversaw the county jail, policed the unincorporated areas of our county, served warrants, and secured the courthouses. It was a big job, but she was a strong woman and more than capable of handling it all. The new captain was a tall, thin man with long sideburns and feathery blond hair. All he needed was a black turtleneck and a brown leather blazer and he could have played David Soul’s part in a Starsky & Hutch reboot. As I scooted by, he withdrew his cell phone from the pocket of his lightweight jacket and peered at it, but the sudden movement of his department people drew his attention away from his screen. As if they’d received some sort of subliminal message, Emmaline’s subordinates moved as a group toward their seats. I slipped through the patio door leading inside the restaurant. The second Emmaline laid eyes on me, she screeched, all her sheriff composure out the window. “Ivy, where have you been? I’m so nervous. I think my knees are going to buckle.” I rushed over to her. “You and Billy have been waiting for this day since you were kids. Come on, you’re fine.” Em’s mother and father had stepped back, allowing me room to wrap my arms around my best friend and give her a squeeze. “He’s a great guy,” she said. I might be biased because he’s my brother, but I agreed with her. Wholeheartedly. “He definitely is a great guy. Better than great. And you are perfect together.” She lifted her chin slightly, her lips curving up. “I really thought this day would never come.” From the patio, the string trio finished the song they’d been playing. A silence fell. I squeezed Em’s hand. “But here it is,” I said just as the string instruments began playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D. “Ready, love?” Emmaline’s mother had stepped forward next to her daughter. Em nodded, her eyes already glistening. Miguel looked dashing in beige linen pants, boat shoes, and a black guayabera decorated with satin stitching on either side of the buttons. His years in the military, coupled with his daily bike rides and runs along the beach, meant he was lean and mean and wore his clothes well. Enrique Iglesias had nothing on Miguel Baptista. He whispered something to the little flower girl, who was Terry Masaki’s four-year-old daughter, Hana. She giggled and bit her lower lip as she got ready to skip toward the groom. She looked like a fairy in her pale turquoise sheath, her satiny black hair dusting her shoulders, and a wreath of daisies like a halo encircling her head. She waved at her daddy, who stood next to Billy, then at her mom, Mei, who snapped pictures of her little girl with her phone. Miguel urged Hana forward and she started down the aisle. She carried a sweet drawstring satin bag, digging her hand into it, pulling it out with a fist full of satin silver, aquamarine, and turquoise rose petals, and tossing them on the white runner leading to the altar. Emmaline’s cousin, Vonnie, went next. Vonnie was shorter than Em. They had the same perfect dark skin, but while Emmaline was slender, Vonnie was curvy. She had a weave done for the wedding and today her black hair had a million kinky curls, the volume of it framing her face. Emmaline generally preferred natural, but for the wedding she’d gone with braids woven into an intricate updo. Emmaline had wanted a small wedding party with her one bridesmaid—Vonnie—and me, her maid of honor, looking beachy and radiant. Her life was all order amid the chaos of crime. In contrast, she wanted her wedding to be relaxed and effervescent. So far, so good. Vonnie- glided down the aisle, holding a small spray of daisies tied together with a length of white ribbon. When she was halfway to the altar, I straightened my dress. The shade of turquoise was paler than Vonnie’s. It draped over one shoulder, reminiscent of a Greek goddess, and fell effortlessly, flowing behind me as I walked slowly down the aisle. When I reached the halfway mark between the restaurant and the altar, the Pachelbel faded, and the traditional wedding march began. The guests rose in unison and all eyes turned to face the bride. I reached my spot next to Vonnie. We smiled at each other and as I looked at Emmaline, flanked on either side by her parents, gliding toward us, my eyes filled. My best friend was getting married. To my brother. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better day for them. Beneath her veil, I knew Em’s eyes were glistening. From the driftwood archway to Vonnie and me, to the Pacific Ocean as a backdrop, and then to Billy, standing next to Terry and Efrem, a goofy grin on his face, this was the day she’d been looking forward to. She reached the front altar. Her mom lifted Em’s veil, arranging it so it hung neatly behind her. She bussed her daughter’s cheek. Em hugged her mom, then her dad. They retreated to their reserved seats while Em handed me her bouquet of fresh daisies. As Billy stepped next to her, she pointed at the archway, whispering something to him. He nodded, and this time, her eyes filled and her lower lip quivered with emotion. She wove her arm around his and moved closer. As the pastor led the ceremony, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I scanned the guests. Everyone’s attention was on Billy and Emmaline. Everyone except one man. Miguel sat in the back row, ready to jump into action once the ceremony ended. But for now, he was intent, not on the wedding couple, but on me. As I met his gaze, one side of his mouth lifted in a saucy smile and his eyebrows raised slightly. What was his unspoken message? I couldn’t exactly say, but I liked that he was thinking about me in this moment. Miguel and I had been through a lot over the years, but we’d found our way back to each other and it was nothing but bright roads ahead for us. I smiled back at him, then returned my attention to the ceremony. Billy and Em had chosen to write their own vows, something I wasn’t sure I’d have the courage to do and speak aloud. Emmaline was finishing hers, speaking through her tears. “Things have a way of falling into place at the right time. It took a while, but we were finally in the right place at the right time. You are my soul mate, Billy, and I love you. I love the way you show your love for me. I love how I still get butterflies whenever I lay eyes on you. I
