Catastrophe in a Cloister

by Fiona Grace

  Lacey gasped. “Gina!”

  “I took the liberty to buy you one of these,” her friend replied with a grin. “I figured you’d be too busy today to find the time. I got the most accurate test, so it will definitely be right.”

  “Gina!” Lacey exclaimed. She picked it up and hugged her. “Thank you!”

  “Yes, well, the pharmacist gave me a right look, the cheeky cow!” Gina replied.

  Lacey recalled the jokes the pharmacist had made to her about her having “baby brain.”

  “She’s not the most professional woman I’ve ever met…” she commented. She looked at the test in her hand. “I’m going to do it.”

  “Now?” Gina asked. “The night before your wedding?”

  Lacey nodded. “Yes. There’s no time like the present.” She thought of the family reunion dinner that had gone so differently than she’d anticipated. “Sometimes you just have to be brave and take the plunge, because the outcome might surprise you.”

  Gina headed for the door. “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Actually,” Lacey said, stopping her in her tracks. “Do you think you could stay for a little bit? Until it’s done? I could use the moral support.”

  Gina gave her a supportive nod. “Of course, dear. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

  Making sure she was as quiet as possible so as not to wake Naomi and Frankie sleeping in the master bedroom, Lacey tiptoed up the stairs—earning a curious look from Chester as she crossed the landing to the bathroom and closed the door silently behind her.

  Her heart pounded as she took the test, her mind turning over and over again.

  Pregnant, not pregnant, pregnant, not pregnant…

  With all the symptoms she’d been experiencing—the nausea, the fatigue, the forgetfulness—along with the second gray line and pharmacist’s words, she couldn’t help but think that she probably was. Which would be an interesting start to married life to say the least. She’d heard of honeymoon babies before; this would be preemptive to say the least!

  Securing the test in its container, Lacey paused at the bathroom mirror momentarily, picturing herself as someone’s mother. Could she rise to the challenge? Could Tom? And more importantly, would he want to?

  Swallowing her emotion, Lacey crept back down to Gina in the kitchen. Her friend was sitting at the table. She’d brewed a teapot of chamomile tea, and the delicate fragrance permeated the air.

  Lacey took a deep, steadying breath and set the test down on the table in front of them. She took her seat.

  “Now we wait,” she said.

  The two women stared at the test in silence. It was very tense.

  The first pink line appeared.

  And then… nothing.

  No second line. Not even a faint gray squiggle. It was irrefutable. The test was negative.

  A rush of emotion went through Lacey—shock, relief, and then just the smallest hint of disappointment. It was the latter of those emotions that took her most by surprise.

  Gina turned to face her. “It’s negative, hon,” she said, gently.

  “I guess those symptoms were just stress after all,” Lacey murmured in reply, her eyes fixed on the solid pink line.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” Lacey said, as the reality started to sink in and her initial feelings began to subside, allowing her true thoughts to solidify. She looked at Gina. “I’m relieved. If Tom and I decide to have kids, I want it to be just that: a decision.”

  She thought of Tom. He’d be at home right now, keeping out of sight as was tradition.

  “Is it strange that I wish I was with Tom right now?” Lacey asked Gina.

  “Not at all,” Gina told her. “But you do know it is very bad luck!”

  They laughed.

  Finally, Lacey could really put all that anxiety out of her mind and look forward to the big day tomorrow, the wedding of her dreams, the day she became Lacey Forrester.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  The next morning, Lacey woke feeling refreshed. Better rested than she had in years.

  At the foot of the bed, Chester stirred at her movements, and Lacey suddenly realized how quiet the house was. Not quiet in the sense that everyone was sleeping, but completely silent, as if the whole world had been muted.

  Lacey immediately knew what that absence of noise meant.

  Her heart skipping, she jumped out of the guest bed and ran to the window, pulling open the curtains to discover the whole garden was blanketed in snow.

  Her heart soared. It was truly happening! She was going to get the wedding of her dreams!

  She grabbed her bathrobe and pulled it on as she ran out into the corridor.

  “It’s SNOWING!” she bellowed at the top of her lungs.

  Chester followed after her and started to howl.

  A flurry of activity came from behind the master bedroom door; someone was jumping out of bed, running to the window and drawing back the curtains, and then racing to the door.

  The door flew open and out came Frankie, in his pajamas, his ginger curls all over the place.

  “It’s SNOWING!” he cried, racing over to Lacey.

  He grabbed her hands and they jumped up and down on the spot, crying, “It’s SNOWING! It’s SNOWING!” over and over again. Chester began to howl.

  Naomi appeared in the doorway, bleary-eyed, her dark hair a mess.

  “Shhh!” she said.

  Then from the bottom of the staircase, Shirley’s voice sounded. “Will you please stop shouting!”

  But Lacey didn’t stop. She felt like a child all over again.

  Just then, there came a pounding at the front door. Lacey stopped jumping, and she and Frankie peered over the banister as Shirley went to answer it. In hurried Gina, bringing a flurry of snowflakes and a snow-covered Boudica with her.

  “It’s SNOWING!” she cried up the staircase.

  “Not you too,” Shirley muttered, retreating back into the living room.

  Chester poked his nose through the banister and barked. Down below, Boudica shook herself, making snowflakes fly off her coat, and barked in reply.

  Gina hurried up the staircase, two steps up at a time, joining Frankie and Lacey on the landing. They all grabbed hands and bounced around in a circle.

  “It’s snowing, it’s snowing, it’s snowing!” they sang, while the dogs howled along.

  “We should make a snowman,” Lacey said, breathless with excitement. “Or drive up to the hills and go sledding!”

  Gina took her by the shoulders. “Lacey, darling. Have you forgotten? It’s your wedding day! There’s no time for snowmen or sledding!”

  “What about snow angels?” Frankie asked.

  Gina shook her head. “We can’t ruin Aunty Lacey’s hair!”

  Lacey huffed. “Well, I suppose marrying the man of my dreams is the only legitimate reason not to play in the snow. But it better still be there when we’re done. Can you imagine how fun the reception will be at the Lodge if there’s snow?”

  “Let’s think about that after, shall we?” Gina replied.

  She ushered Lacey into the bedroom, where Naomi was lying flopped face down on the master bed. Frankie followed, the dogs coming in after him.

  “Sorry, Chicken,” Gina said. “This is the dress-up room now.”

  Naomi immediately pinged up to sitting and gasped. “Is it time to see the dress?” she squealed, suddenly wide-eyed and eager.

  “Yes!” Lacey cried. “Well, almost. We need Emmanuel to pick up Frankie and take him to the boys’ house, first.”

  She went over to the French doors and peered through the white curtains at the driveway below. Right on time, a car pulled up along the pathway and drew to a halt on the driveway. As Emmanuel hopped out from the driver’s seat, Lacey noticed Finnbar in the front passenger seat, and the figure of Brother Benedict in the back. She grinned to herself. She’d relayed the update over Crispin Noble to Abbot Weeks, and though he still wanted his monk to come back
to the abbey, Brother Benedict had made it very clear he was determined to stay put in Wilfordshire with Lacey until the work was done. And that meant he was coming to her wedding too!

  Emmanuel came striding to the door and knocked.

  “Frankie!” Shirley called up the stairs. “Your chariot awaits!”

  Frankie quickly gathered up his things, running like a hurricane around the room. Then he quickly kissed Naomi’s cheek, then Lacey’s cheek, then even Gina’s cheek.

  “See you there!” he cried, excitedly, before running out of the room.

  The sound of his footsteps thundered down the staircase. Through the window, Lacey watched him streak across the driveway and leap into the waiting car.

  Of course, she thought. He was excited about another car trip, and having another person to ask car-related questions to!

  From behind, Naomi clapped her hands sharply. “Come on, Lacey. Dress time! I’m dying to see it!”

  Lacey grinned and ran giddily over to her closet. She got out the dress and quickly stripped out of her night clothes. Gina helped her into her dress.

  “Oh Lacey!” Naomi squeaked from the bed. “You look amazing.”

  Lacey looked at her reflection, smoothing her hands over the fabric. She was thrilled that everything had come together at the last moment. The murder was solved. Her big day was here. Her family was finally civil. The pregnancy question was put to rest. And the scepter was safe.

  Just then, there was a rap at the door, and everyone looked over to see Shirley enter holding a tray with a French press and mugs on it.

  “I thought we could do with some caffeine,” she said.

  Then she caught sight of Lacey and halted. Her eyes filled with tears. Gina rushed over and took the tray from her, since she appeared so stunned by the sight of her daughter in her wedding gown she seemed to have forgotten all about it.

  “Lacey!” she gasped, literally not even noticing Gina take the heavy tray from her hands. “You look beautiful!”

  Lacey smiled. It wasn’t often Shirley showed such tender displays of affection. But over the last couple of days, her mom had really stepped up.

  “How are you doing your hair?” Shirley asked, coming over and immediately sweeping Lacey’s hair up off her neck and piling it on her head.

  “I was going to wear it down,” Lacey replied.

  “Down?” Shirley cried. “Goodness! No. You can’t wear it down. Here.”

  She reached into her pocket and brought out one of her hair clasps. Before Lacey could even protest, Shirley had twisted her hair in a complicated way and clasped it into place with the clip. The result was actually very pleasing.

  Lacey watched her reflection as she inspected the up-do. “I like it,” she said, pleasantly surprised and impressed by her mom’s secret talent.

  Gina slid the coffee tray onto the vanity table and came over. “That can be your borrowed item, Lacey.”

  Lacey frowned. “My what?”

  “Your borrowed item. You know: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?”

  Of course her superstitious side would come out in force today of all days.

  But when Lacey remained blank, Gina’s expression turned to a look of absolute horror. “Oh Lacey. You’re not doing it, are you?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” Lacey confessed.

  “Oh but you must!” Shirley said, joining Gina’s side.

  “Yeah, come on, Lacey,” Naomi cajoled. “It’s tradition.”

  Lacey bit her lip. “Well, the dress is old, because it’s vintage. And the hair clasp is borrowed.”

  “These are new,” Gina said, grabbing a pack of bobby pins.

  “Then it’s just something blue left to go,” Naomi said.

  “I have an idea,” Lacey said, clicking her fingers. “I still have that necklace from Penrose Manor with a sapphire gem on it.”

  “Yes!” Gina cried, clapping. “That’s perfect! And it will look beautiful with your dress.”

  “Yes, but there’s one problem,” Lacey said. “It’s locked in the safe at the store. If I don’t have time to make snow angels, I hardly have time to drive to work.”

  But all the women exchanged glances.

  “It’s not that far,” Shirley said.

  “And you don’t want to jinx your wedding,” Gina added.

  “And it will make you look like a princess,” Naomi finished.

  “Fine,” Lacey cried. “I’ll be right back. No one do anything crazy while I’m gone.”

  She hitched up her wedding dress and motioned for the door.

  “You’re not going out in your dress, are you!?” Gina exclaimed from behind.

  “I’ll be ten minutes at most!” Lacey cried.

  “You might break it,” Naomi protested.

  “It’s not made of glass,” Lacey refuted. “And it’ll be quicker than taking it off and putting it back on again.”

  She whirled out of the room before her mom got the chance to throw her own unwanted opinion into the fray.

  Chester followed her down the stairs. She opened the front door and squeaked at just how cold it really was, before hurrying through the thin layer of snow to her car. She hopped inside and turned the heater on high.

  “Just a quick impromptu detour to the store, boy,” she told Chester as she turned the ignition.

  The engine revved, and Lacey pulled out of her driveway.

  As she drove down the hill, she wondered if this was a good idea after all. The roads had been gritted for the snow but the narrow winding paths were still difficult to navigate. She went as cautiously and slowly as she could. The last thing she needed was to get into a wreck on her wedding day.

  When she arrived at the store, Lacey hurried into the back room where the safe was located. But she’d not taken even two paces inside when she immediately realized something was wrong. The padlock was gone—and the door was open.

  Lacey gasped. Her first instinct was to swirl around to make sure there were no intruders present. Everything was silent and still.

  She turned back to the safe and pulled the door open toward her. She looked inside and gasped.

  The scepter was gone.

  Lacey reeled back in shock.

  “No!” she cried, staring at the blank space where the scepter was supposed to be. “How?!”

  With Crispin Noble—the self-confessed attempted thief—currently locked up in jail, Lacey had assumed it would be okay to keep the scepter locked in the safe again. But evidently not. Somehow, someone had gotten inside. But who?

  It wasn’t Crispin—he’d spent the night in jail. He must’ve been working with someone. He’d admitted to being in cahoots with Greg Ford, so maybe teaming up with other crooks was part of his MO. And if his first partner in crime was dead, then it made sense he’d go out and find himself another one. The question was…who?

  Lacey paced back and forth across the room in her wedding dress, her mind turning it over.

  Just then, Chester stuck his nose in the safe and barked.

  “Oh, right,” she said, snapping back to the moment. “Good point. I almost forgot I was here to get the sapphire necklace.”

  She returned to the safe to retrieve the blue sapphire necklace of Iris Archer’s. But as she pulled the beautiful diamond necklace out, her eyes fell to some of the other treasures glittering at the back of the safe. Among the various jewels and diamonds were pieces of gold.

  “Wait…” Lacey said, as something started to come to her mind. “Greg had gold. He was a self-confessed treasure hunter. He wanted to get the scepter so he teamed up with Crispin to try to steal it… Perhaps he teamed up with someone else before when he tried to get a hold of the gold?”

  Her mind turned as she found herself returning to her very first theory. That the murder had been over the gold after all.

  “Jacobite gold,” Lacey said aloud.

  Then suddenly, she gasped. Because the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into
place in Lacey’s mind. There was a third person—the killer—but they hadn’t been on Crispin Noble’s team. They’d been on Greg’s.

  Greg Ford had a partner in crime. Or at least, an ex-partner in crime. Someone associated with the Jacobite gold.

  And that’s when it hit Lacey.

  Cousin Harry.

  The lake dredger from Lochaber, Scotland. The confident, rich man who drove a yellow sports car and bragged about his business accomplishments. Tom’s so-called cousin who appeared out of nowhere. He was just like Greg Ford—arrogant, braggy, self-centered—and that was because… because they were partners!

  Her mind raced as she turned it all over. She pictured the pair of them in Harry’s yellow sports car, a partnership of thieves, crossing from Scotland to England, faking identities, stealing treasure, and evading detection.

  So what happened to cleave them apart? To cause one to end up dead? Had Greg gotten too bolshy? Perhaps he’d stolen the Jacobite gold and left Harry out to dry? Whatever had transpired between the two former partners, only one of them was still alive, and Lacey was certain he’d been killed by the other’s hand…

  She leapt into action, racing out the back room and into the office to get the phone. She dialed Tom, her hands trembling with anxiety.

  “Lacey?” he cried as he answered. “How’s it all going your end? We’re all tuxedoed up and raring to go!”

  There was a lot of noise in the background. Lacey could hear Frank’s jolly singing, Frankie’s hyperactive giggling, and Emmanuel’s polite but loud chatter. She strained to hear.

  “Is Harry with you?” she shouted, launching immediately into the issue at hand without wasting time on pleasantries.

  “Huh?” Tom shouted in reply.

  “Harry!” Lacey cried. “Is he there?”

  “No. He’s not here yet. I’ve got Frank, Emmanuel, Finnbar, and Frankie. Oh, and Brother Benedict. I assume you invited him.”

  He was clearly in high spirits but Lacey didn’t have time for chitchat. “Where is Harry?”

  “At his B&B, I presume,” Tom replied, before laughing heartily. “No! I’m not having shots before my wedding!”

  Lacey grasped the phone desperately. “Tom!” she shouted. “What B&B?”