Terror in Taffeta by Marla Cooper Page B

cause of death.”
    â€œBut that’s not possible!” Evan went to put his arms around me, but I was in no mood to be hugged. I wriggled out of his would-be embrace, my mind spinning with this new information. “What kind of poison?”
    Evan held his hands up in the air. “He didn’t know. Does it even matter?”
    â€œYes! I mean, how do they know if it even is poison? It’s not like they tasted it!” Okay, so not exactly a great rationale, but it was all I had at the moment.
    â€œKelsey, they’re the police. If they think it’s poison, it’s probably poison.”
    I stormed off down the hill. The brilliantly colored sky had started to turn dark, the clouds nothing but black wisps.
    â€œKelsey, wait!” Evan called after me, but I was too agitated to slow down and listen to him. He caught up and grabbed my elbow, whirling me around to face him.
    He took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Kelsey, listen to me. I know you believe your friend. But I have to ask you, how well do you know this girl?”
    I shrugged. “Not best-friends-since-first-grade well, but well enough to know she isn’t a killer.”
    â€œYou’ve known her for, what? A year? Six months?”
    â€œSomething like that,” I said, my righteous indignation starting to falter.
    â€œAnd you’ve spent how many hours together during that time?”
    â€œMore than you’d think. These weddings don’t plan themselves, Evan.”
    â€œCome on, Kelsey, she isn’t even your client. So you sat through a couple of dress fittings together. That doesn’t mean you know the girl.”
    â€œTrue, but…”
    But what? My convictions were getting harder and harder to cling to in the face of actual evidence. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait for the autopsy. Maybe it will exonerate her.”
    â€œSure,” he said diplomatically. “Maybe it will.” He pulled me in close and kissed me on the forehead.
    Damn it. I’d already let this whole situation throw my work life into chaos, and now it was putting a serious damper on what could have been a gloriously romantic evening. I vowed not to allow my impromptu murder investigation to infringe on my evening any more than it already had.
    I sighed. I felt bad for berating my inside source, especially since he was also my dinner date.
    â€œYou hungry?” I asked.
    â€œStarving,” Evan replied, cupping my face in his hands before pushing me up against a wall and kissing me deeply. The adobe was still warm from the sun, which was only partially to blame for the sudden flush I felt spread over my whole body. I officially declared myself off duty for the night as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed back.
    Dinner would have to wait.

 
    CHAPTER 11
    The next morning I woke up just before dawn. I was a little disoriented at first, which you get used to when you travel a lot, but instead of the usual “What country am I in?” moment, I had an “Okay, seriously, where am I?” moment. I quickly assembled the clues: the striped bedspread confirmed that this was not my room at the villa. My dress draped over a chair told me I hadn’t made it home last night. And the snoring coming from the next room provided the final piece of the puzzle. Evan. Mystery solved.
    It had gotten late, so I’d stayed over in his guest bedroom. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that it was morning, I wished I’d gotten myself tucked into my own bed to avoid suspicion.
    Maybe if I hurried, I could make it back to the villa before everyone woke up and save myself the raised eyebrows. I crawled quietly out from under the covers and quickly got dressed in last night’s clothes—once again thankful I hadn’t been wearing super-obvious high heels.
    Cómo se dice “walk of shame” en español?
    The streets were