Free Laced with Poison by Meg London

finally unearthing the item
     she was after—a broad-brimmed straw hat with a pink ribbon. She slipped it on. Perfect!
    Emma was ready when Brian knocked on her door. He appeared even taller and broader
     shouldered standing in her tiny apartment. She was momentarily tongue-tied again,
     like the adolescent she was when she first developed a crush on her best friend’s
     older brother. But then he smiled, and she found herself relaxing.
    “I have to apologize.” Brian tugged at the blue and white striped tie he was wearing.
     “I’d hoped to borrow Liz’s station wagon for the day, but it’s in the shop for a tune-up.
     I’m afraid we’re stuck with my pickup truck, but”—he held up a hand—“I’ve cleaned
     it inside and out so you don’t have to worry.”
    “That’s fine.” Emma answered his smile with one of her own.
    *   *   *
    GRACE Episcopal Church was built in 1896, making it the oldest church building in
     Paris. It was notable for itsstained glass windows by Tiffany and its welcoming bright red door.
    Brian parked the truck, helped Emma down from the passenger seat, and, with a hand
     on her elbow, led her around to the front of the church. A handful of people had gathered
     on the steps waiting to enter. Emma counted three hats among the four female heads,
     in shades of pastel such as pale pink and creamsicle orange.
    “Hey, Brian!” A young man in khakis and a navy blue blazer stepped away from the crowd.
     He waved a hand in their direction.
    “That’s Tyson,” Brian said, steering Emma in the young man’s direction. “We were in
     the same fraternity at UT.”
    Emma suddenly realized how little she really knew about Brian.
    Brian and Tyson clasped hands and shook heartily. Both had wide grins.
    “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Tyson said, glancing at Emma with an inquiring
     look on his face.
    “I’m sorry.” Brian grinned sheepishly. “Emma, this is Tyson. Tyson, this is Emma Taylor.
     She’s Liz’s best friend,” he added awkwardly.
    Was that all she was to Brian? Liz’s best friend? The look Tyson gave Emma let her
     know that he certainly found her attractive. She stood a little straighter. She would
     just have to get Brian to see her in the same light.
    A few moments later, they filed into the stark white church and found a seat. The
     organ wheezed to life and the music swelled to fill the nave. The bride entered, a
     vision in white organdy, on the arm of an older gentleman in a dark suit. Emma watched
     the ceremony through a veil of tears that blurred the plum-colored bridesmaid dresses
     to a misty swirl.She glanced up at Brian. His gaze was on the couple at the altar, but there was a
     preoccupied look on his face.
    Finally, the newly married bride and groom sprinted back down the aisle, hand in hand,
     to the strains of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.” The congregation rose to its feet and
     slowly made its way out the doors, down the front stairs and through the reception
     line that had formed around the couple.
    Emma’s head swirled from all the new names and faces. Brian looked at her and grinned.
    “I could sure do with a big glass of Tennessee Tea right about now.”
    “That makes two of us.”
    The air was pleasantly cool, but the setting sun was aiming its rays at the small
     group gathered on the lawn, and Emma let her wrap slip from her shoulders as she and
     Brian made their way back through the milling crowd toward Brian’s truck.
    In less than fifteen minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot of the Beauchamp
     Hotel and Spa, or “the Beau” as it had become known locally. It was a low-lying modern
     building with large windows all around. Beside the entrance, varicolored striped ornamental
     grasses swayed in the breeze.
    The lobby was as soothing as Emma had remembered from her last visit to the Beau—painted
     a restful pale green with light wood floors, Oriental rugs and a reception desk that
     was part waterfall.