Free The Bride Wore Size 12 by Meg Cabot Page B

file.” I’d grabbed it on my way upstairs, then skimmed it during the elevator ride to the fourteenth floor.
    Special Agent Lancaster says, “Her inhaler is over there on the dresser. It seems like it’s plenty close enough for her to grab.”
    “And it’s practically full,” I say, then blush, not having meant to let that slip. We weren’t supposed to have touched anything, but the inhaler is something I found after Cooper left and, because his paranoia about Jasmine’s missing cell phone had made me suspicious, I’d lifted it—using Jasmine’s discarded shirt from the day before—and given it a shake.
    Eva doesn’t notice. She picks up the inhaler and gives it a shake herself, then drops it into an evidence bag.
    “We’ll take a look at it,” she says, marking something down on her clipboard. “You know, people don’t take asthma as seriously as they should. About nine people a day die from it. It’s one of this country’s most common and costly diseases. She could have had an asthma attack brought on by a reaction to an allergen. Speaking of,” she adds, “my mom thinks she’s allergic to gluten. She’s not, of course. But I’m putting up with it to keep the peace. So if you guys could serve some gluten-free stuff at your wedding, that would be great. Not necessarily a whole separate gluten-free cake, but like some fresh fruit, or whatever.”
    “Um,” I say. “Okay. I’ll have the wedding planner make sure the caterer knows.”
    Not that I mind that Eva and her mother are coming to my wedding, but I wonder again how they got an invitation. I know I didn’t put them on my list. Granted, my list is pretty lame—it has fewer than fifty people on it, most of whom work either for New York College or the NYPD. From my family, there is only my father and his sister. I haven’t spoken to my mother in over a decade. Even if I had her address—which I don’t—no way would I have invited her. Weddings are supposed to be occasions for joy, not psychodrama.
    So while the addition of a cool punk medical examiner and her mom at my wedding is definitely a plus, I’d still like to know how it happened. Did Cooper add Eva and her plus one because he felt sorry for me, as there are so many more people (at least three hundred) on his side?
    It’s all very baffling, but again, not something I have time to figure out just now.
    “And there’s no sign of, um, vomit in her toilet or trash can,” I volunteer. “So I don’t think she had that stomach flu so many people have.”
    Eva looks at me like I’m nuts. “What stomach flu?”
    “You know,” I say. I’m still sitting on Jasmine’s visitors’ bed, looking at the posters she’d hung on her walls. “That stomach flu that’s going around.” Then I gasp. “Oh God! Casino Night . . . if there’s a virus or whatever going around, won’t they all get it if they’re confined to a small space, like on a boat? I saw on Voyage to Death that that happened on the Queen Mary 2. The entire ship got the norovirus, a thousand passengers or something, even crew members. The toilets got clogged from everyone’s vomit.”
    Eva glances at me in amusement. “If I understand it correctly, this cruise your residents are going on is only around the island of Manhattan, not the Caribbean. They’ll be home in a few hours, so I think they’ll be all right. And anyway, I haven’t heard of any stomach flu going around.” She looks over at Special Agent Lancaster. “Have you heard about any stomach flu going around?”
    Special Agent Lancaster shakes his head. “None of my people have it.” Then he touches his earpiece. “My people are asking, by the way, how much longer you’re going to be.”
    “As long as it takes, 007,” Eva says. “Why, do you have a train to catch and then derail for Her Majesty?”
    “I’m not MI6,” Special Agent Lancaster says, flushing a little. “I thought I explained. I’m Diplomatic Security, with