Wedding Day Murder by Leslie Meier Page B

stores where Sidra and Ron had registered their wedding gift preferences. They were all in New York, and the only one Lucy recognized was Tiffany’s.
    As she stood there flipping through the cards, she felt a curious mix of emotions. Did they really want her company at the shower, or were they just after a gift? A rather expensive gift at that, judging from the cards. And why did they think they had to tell her where to shop? It was insulting, and furthermore, it made her feel inadequate. Even if she wanted to—and she realized guiltily that she didn’t want to—how could she afford a gift from Tiffany’s?
    Replacing the cards in the envelope, she studied the invitation. The shower was to be on the yacht, on the evening of July 4. A handwritten PS invited her to stay for the fireworks in the harbor.
    Now that was better, thought Lucy. It would be fun to see the fireworks from the boat. And no doubt there would be plenty of delicious food, and it would be lovely to see Sidra again and meet her friends from New York.
    In the kitchen, Lucy attached the invitation to the refrigerator with a magnet. Then she reached under the sink for her bucket of cleaning supplies. She still had to clean the bathrooms and dust and vacuum the downstairs. The upstairs would have to wait until after lunch.
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    She was making herself a sandwich in her sparkling kitchen when Toby appeared, looking disheveled and seeking coffee.
    â€œIt will have to be instant,” she told him.
    â€œFine with me,” he said, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table and reaching for the morning paper.
    She finished making her sandwich and fixed him a cup of coffee. When she leaned over him to place it in front of him at the table, she got a whiff of alcohol.
    â€œBig night last night?” she demanded, hands on her hips.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI can tell you were drinking. Which, by the way, is not a good idea since you’re underage and you shouldn’t drive. . . .”
    â€œMom, how could I drive? I don’t have a car. Friends brought me home.”
    â€œWho? Eddie? He’s underage, too.”
    â€œSome of the guys from the Bilge.”
    Lucy’s eyebrows shot up. The Bilge was the most disreputable bar in town, located just a few feet from the harbor. It was also, she remembered, the place where the fishermen had agreed to meet to plan their protest against the new harbor policy.
    â€œSo what were you doing at the Bilge?”
    â€œI went with Geoff, for a meeting.”
    â€œGeoff bought you beer?” Lucy was astonished.
    â€œNo. I bought myself beer.”
    â€œConsidering the way you smell, you bought a lot of beer.”
    Toby shrugged. “He left early. I stayed.” He swallowed some coffee. “Do we have any aspirin?”
    Lucy fought the urge to get up and bring him aspirin. “There’s some in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”
    Toby absorbed this information but didn’t act on it. Tough, thought Lucy. He deserves a hangover.
    â€œAnything interesting happen at the meeting?” she asked, keeping her tone carefully casual.
    â€œNah.”
    This was like pulling teeth, thought Lucy. “Were they putting something together for the waterways commission meeting on Monday?”
    Toby was peering in the refrigerator, probably hoping for a slice of cold pizza or some leftover spaghetti. He settled for some orange juice and pulled the container out. “Not exactly,” he said, tilting the container and pouring the juice into his mouth. Lucy would have made a fuss, but she knew the container was nearly empty.
    â€œBut I thought they’re unhappy with the new transient policy.”
    â€œOh, they are. But they figure going to the meeting will be pointless. They’ve got something else in mind.” He tossed the empty container in the garbage and headed for the bathroom.
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œSorry. I