The Silent Bride by Leslie Glass

girl."
"Not such a glamour girl today." Tang's customer demeanor dropped away, and she wilted visibly
"Tired," Ching said sympathetically.
"No, didn't you hear? One of my brides was murdered yesterday," Tang told her with an angry look.
"No!" Ching put her hand to her mouth.
"Terrible thing," Kim said, his eyes tearing up.
"What happened?" Horrified, Ching looked from one to the other.
"Someone shot her as she was going down the aisle." Tang glanced at her watch. "Hurry up. I have one minute."
But Ching was still trying to digest the news. A bride shot! Suddenly she felt dizzy and wondered what April knew about it. Poor Tang. "Did you know her?" Ching asked.
"Of course I knew her. We dressed her, made her gown. Special order. A big one," Tang said impatiently. "It's just terrible! And they haven't paid the bill yet."
"What?" Ching was shocked by the concern about money, but the tragedy gave her an idea. It occurred to her that she had an important relation in the police department. Maybe she could help Tang somehow by offering April to assist her. Then maybe Tang would give her a free dress for her trouble.
"My best friend, my maid of honor, in fact, is a very important detective in the police department," Ching said slowly. Tang read her mind before she was even finished getting the sentence out.
"You aren't going to ask for a free dress for her, are you?" she said quickly. "I can't afford any more freebies."
Ching blushed hotly. "No, no. Of course not. You've already been so generous. 1 just thought maybe she can do something to help."
"Well, thanks anyway, Ching. But no cops. I just want to stay as far from this as possible. The last thing 1 need is this kind of attention."
"Miss Ling, you're going to be late." The girl was back. "I have your purse."
"No, no, take it back upstairs. I have some calls to make." Tang hurried out the door. "See you, Ching."
Suddenly Ching felt queasy. After the news of a murdered bride in a Tang gown and Tang's attitude, Ching's joy of being an insider with a free wedding dress dissipated fast. She felt like the poor college girl of the old days, someone getting leftovers. And the murder troubled her more than she wanted to admit. She felt funny putting on the gown, even though Kim had altered it to fit her perfectly.
She evaluated herself in front of the mirror. The train with the coffee stain was gone. The hem dipped just enough in back now to puddle a few inches on the floor. Kim had added more bobbing pearls to the bodice, adding to its luster. But Ching was a plain, no-nonsense kind of girl, not in any way the beauty that her friend April was, and her expression shov/ed that she wasn't happy in her gift.
"What's the matter, girl, you don't want to get married?" Kim said, smoothing his hand along her waist speculatively. He took a tuck, careful not to stick her with the pin.
    "No, no. I love the dress. Kim, you did an amazing job. Really."
    "It was my design," he said modestly.
    But he didn't think it was perfect. A few minutes later Ching left without the dress. Kim had insisted on another fitting.

Thirteen
A t four-forty-five that afternoon April tapped at the closed door of Rabbi Levi's study in Temple Shalom. "It's Lieutenant Sanchez and Sergeant Woo," she said.
"Yes, they told me you were here. Come in," the rabbi said in a tired voice.
Mike opened the door, took a quick look around, then let her go in first. Coming from the brightness of the well-lit hall to the darkness of the paneled room, April's eyes didn't register a person in there at first. In his black suit Rabbi Levi was a small figure sitting motionless in a dark leather chair behind a large desk. On this sunny Monday afternoon his study was in dusk. Lined on three sides with leather-bound and dark-covered books, the room looked like an ancient library from another world. This atmosphere was enhanced by the folded newspaper in Hebrew that was all the paper visible on his desk. The sorrowful, gray-haired man seemed much