Margaret crossed her arms over her chest. “Nothing is bad. Everyone has a past.”
I met Margaret’s stare. “Madison walked the property?”
Margaret nodded. “All over.”
“So she knew the cabin, guesthouse, and…well, everything?”
“I would assume so…probably, yes.”
“Everyone has a past,” I repeated what Margaret had said as I dug under the journals and books, finding my birth certificate and passport. “Not everyone’s past comes back on their past’s wedding day, drugs the bride and her friends, and shoots their ex.”
“Technically…” Margaret hummed. “Yes, I guess she and Donovan were a thing before she married Phillip.”
And technically, Madison was married to Phillip during the months she was on this property. I didn’t say that.
“I found it,” I pronounced as I lifted the card with the patrol officer’s information. Instead of thinking about Donovan and Madison, I looked down at the card. On the other side there was information about women’s services in Ashland. I looked up and met Margaret’s gaze. “What do you know about the Women’s Resource Center in Ashland?”
“I know it’s been around for a long time. I think they have similar centers throughout the country.”
“Do they have housing?”
“Not on-site. They have counselors and resources. I’d expect temporary housing to be one of them.”
“What about job placement?” I asked.
“I think they do.” She tilted her head. “Why?”
“I was under the impression that Madison worked at the consignment shop.”
“What? Why?”
My thoughts went back to my shopping in Ashland. The woman watching me at the café and the same nice woman at the consignment shop. “Remember me talking about the woman who helped me find the dress? The woman with light-colored hair?”
“It was Madison,” Margaret said with a shake of her head. “How could she get a job there?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that she was there. She helped me pick out the dress and found me the cape.”
“Sally Coopmans owns the shop on Main,” Margaret said. “I wonder…”
“How long was Madison in Ashland?” I asked, voicing my own questions. “Did she seek services from the Women’s Resource Center? Could that be how she got the job?”
“I spoke to Officer Lawson from the Ashland Police Department. He spoke to all of us, but I didn’t know any of that. He asked about the day and what I remembered. I didn’t remember much at the time.”
Going toward her, I reached for Margaret’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Mom and I are still hoping for a wedding.”
“I went to talk to Van about a marriage and forgetting the wedding.”
“What did he say?”
My cheeks warmed as I recalled what transpired in his office—on his desk. “We were distracted.”
“I can get you Officer Lawson’s number or if you call the station…”
I waved my hand. “I think that’s the name Albert gave Van. Van’s giving him a call.” I lifted the card. “I’m going to call the patrol officer who was here a few weeks ago.” I tugged on my upper lip. “I’m worried about Phillip.”
“You’re worried abouthim?”