Meow Matrimony

by Lickel, Lisa;

  I sniffed and blew my nose. I didn’t feel sorry for Melody, not one bit. Just sad. “The evidence the police withheld, hmm? Melody must have hid when she heard me at Ivanna’s door with the invitations that afternoon. She was probably in the powder room.” I shivered, glad I hadn’t felt curious enough to open that door. “She also told me she was recovering from a cold when she came to see me at my house.” I narrowed my eyes, thinking. “I went to take a weird business call and left her alone. When I came back she was slightly out of breath, as if she’d been in a hurry to get back and sit down. That must be the time she planted the ring.”

  Elvis winked.

  “I have a hard time believing someone would hate her child’s choice of spouse enough to commit murder,” I said.

  Elvis flicked the recorder pen he carried. “It’s not admissible evidence,” he said, “but Mrs. Clark told me yesterday that her son needed help. He was all she had, and she had to protect him from outside influences, since he was so vulnerable.”

  Adam rubbed my shoulders and drew me against his chest.

  “Since he was a little boy,” Elvis went on, “and Melody caught his father punishing him, she knew he would need his mother to stand by him.”

  “She told you all this?” Aunt Chris said, her own pen poised. “Aren’t you a stranger?”

  “I acted interested after his speech yesterday,” Elvis admitted. “I flattered her by saying how much I admired him.”

  Jason pushed himself off the grass and put his hands over his ears.

  Ripple and Larkin shut Doralynn in the remaining car and drove away.

  “Jason’s father was killed at a railway crossing. The officer in charge noted his suspicions about a possible passenger in the vehicle. I read the report as part of my internship. Later, when one of Jason’s teachers paid him too much attention—Mrs. Clark’s words—she was very troubled,” Elvis said, “and considered taking action, but the man died before she had a chance.” Elvis and Adam exchanged serious looks.

  “So, she was threatened by his involvement with Ivanna, of whom she didn’t approve,” Chris said. “And decided to do something about it.” She checked her notes. “Take care of it?”

  “Well, yes,” Elvis said. “Easy access to the wrappers for Featherlight candies, and cyanide.”

  “She would have had to buy Featherlight at Mea Cuppa, though,” Adam said. “Unless she ordered them, which would have seemed suspicious, or took a trip to the nearest outlet.”

  “Oh, that’s why she wrapped North Star in the Featherlight wrapper. Makes sense,” I said. “If you could call it that.”

  “Melody was also disturbed about the exercise place. She thought the whole idea a waste of money,” Elvis said. “She told me while we were there. She wouldn’t allow him to give any money to invest.”

  “Speaking of money,” I said, “why didn’t Ivanna tell Jason the truth about her inheritance? Jason didn’t have any money of his own, I take it? Despite his job? And why leave it to…”

  Stanley squirmed under four pairs of eyes focused on him.

  “It was that mother,” he said. “Vanna wanted to like her, really tried, too, but Melody…well, Vanna figured something was bad wrong. I mean, she ended up fighting both her mom and his over getting married.”

  “I understand why Melody framed Stanley for murder,” I said, looking at him with as much sympathy as I could muster. “But, why me? And what’s with the diamond—”

  Elvis made a slicing motion across his throat.

  “My mother…”

  I jumped when Jason spoke. He’d managed to sneak up on us. I’d forgotten him, much to my chagrin. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly.

  The others echoed.

  “Vanna was a cool chick. I didn’t know she was that old.” He wrinkled his nose. “Still, we coulda been good. She had all that money. Grandpa left everything to my mom…Melody, who had it sewed up tight. Vanna didn’t need to do anything else, like that dumb gym. We could have owned the radio station.”

  “You sent Ruby those messages, didn’t you?” I said. The way he was talking reminded me of the wording of some of the texts.

  “So? I know a thing or two about bouncing messages around. That dumb broad doesn’t belong at a gym.”

  Mad as I was, Stanley bore the brunt of Jason’s ill will. “Guess she wasn’t as into me as she was you. Can’t see it.” Jason reached out to shove Stanley.

  Elvis jumped in the way. “Back off.”

  Jason gathered himself and shoulder-bumped Stanley as he strutted down the sidewalk.

  I had a ton of questions, even though the morning’s work was over and the killer would soon be behind bars.

  Adam squeezed my shoulders. “I should get you home,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go in to City Hall,” he told everyone. “I’ll need to prepare a statement.”

  Exhaustion consumed me, and I couldn’t get home fast enough. I was worried about my mother, who hadn’t returned from the car. Real diamonds in my sock drawer would have to wait.

  25

  This time I wasn’t dreaming. I made sure of that by pinching myself every couple of minutes. A black and blue arm would be worth it. Adam was waiting for me at the altar. No one was backing away from me and nothing in the church was wet, except Mom’s cheeks. She assured me they were tears of joy. I figured I should wait to mess up my makeup until after pictures and pinched my arm again.

  On the last Sunday in June, 2:00 PM, just as the invitations said, at New Horizons Church in Apple Grove, Illinois, I, Ivy Amanda McTeague Preston would wed Adam Truegood Thompson.

  Cecelia Gaines tucked in four-year-old Timmy Robbins’s shirt tails under the vest and curled his little hands around the pillow with the rings pinned tightly. She had Taylor, his twin sister, practice big smiles even though the little girl looked nervous in her rosy chiffon dress. Cecelia reminded her how to toss rose petals as they were to walk slowly.

  Music rolled from the sanctuary. Marie and Jeff, Adam’s sister and brother-in-law, stood with Virgil, Mom, Addy, and me, smiling. Marie touched the corner of her eye and I silently begged her not to start tearing up.

  Addy fluffed my hair and then handed me my bouquet—something to do with my hands. She grabbed and straightened my train.

  Virgil escorted Marie toward the altar, then Jeff, Adam’s best man, put out his arm for Addy, my maid of honor. Cecelia sent the twins down the aisle, whispering fiercely that they should walk. Timmy made it halfway until he saw his dad, Dale, decked out in his dress firefighter’s uniform for the occasion, halfway up the rows of pews. Taylor turned her head as she passed, stuck out her tongue at him, but continued to throw petals until she reached Pastor Gaines. She turned and tucked herself into his shadow, smiling shyly at her parents and waving.

  My heart started pounding as I watched them. I glanced at Mom as we strolled, wondering again, how I would be able to live up to being the mayor’s wife and hopefully, mother of his children.

  Mom fussed with my veil, squeezed my hand, and indicated my groom, waiting for me. She kissed my cheek. “You can do all things…” she whispered.

  “With Christ who gives me strength,” I finished.

  “It’s time,” Cecelia said and motioned for us to take our places.

  “The Wedding March” swelled and off we went.

  I didn’t trip, I didn’t cry, and I somehow repeated my vows and exchanged rings with the most precious man on earth. With his strength of character, unyielding faith, love, and support of me, I felt invincible. That, and he’d whispered how much he’d loved me and how proud he was before he took my hand. I didn’t let go, even when he slipped his ring on my finger, which Dale had to sneak up to the altar when Timmy refused to bring it the rest of the way.

  When Adam and I, as husband and wife—squee!—walked back out of the sanctuary, I almost danced.

  Amy stood in the circle of Elvis’s embrace at the back of the church. She hadn’t been sure she could leave Ethereal
Events, but I’m glad she did. That meant things were under control and ready for the reception. I clutched and thanked Addy again, and the others who followed before Cecelia lined us up in a formal receiving line. Adam and I shared one of those romantic gazes before Mom got there. We mouthed I-love-yous, and then spent the next hour and a half shaking hands and smiling for pictures.

  ~*~

  The party was in swing when the rest of us arrived at Ethereal Events. Amy was directing our guests to sign the book and check the seating chart. Wonderful upbeat, pop swingy music with lots of drums made me want to start dancing. I waved to Barry who gifted us with his DJ skills.

  Mom and Aunt Chris greeted us, each holding a cat—Isis and Memnet. Normally the cats wouldn’t have enjoyed so much commotion and noise, but Addy had provided a padded play tent for a corner of the large foyer, including a screened area for litterbox and food. With the kittens all together again, Mom’s Cleo, Addy’s Fred, Elvis and Amy’s Jazzy, and Four—I know, I know, we’d get there—Isis was content. Memnet didn’t care much as long as Taylor petted him, which she seemed thrilled to do. What kid didn’t love playing house with a willing cat? I watched Memnet greet Isis, whisker to whisker. He twitched his tail, and then went to sniff at his offspring. He stopped at Four and began to groom the little guy’s furry patch of bowtie under his chin.

  Adam signaled to Amy, who disappeared into the kitchen.

  I lifted my face to his. He smiled smoothly and winked. “Just getting the show on the road.” I fanned myself while he chuckled.

  I watched Taylor another ten seconds, counting my blessings for all the wonderful examples in my life. Parenting didn’t have to take place in a vacuum. Mom would help. So would Addy, Cecelia, and Adam, of course.

  I took a deep breath and smiled brilliantly at Adam to let him know I was ready to enter the reception room. We held hands and stopped to say hello at the round tables full of our guests.

  Stanley showed up in Ruby’s undertow and good-naturedly wished us well.

  Members of the city council held down a couple tables near the bar. Most of them laughed when Adam joked they’d better not talk business.

  Yolanda volunteered to take pictures as her gift to us, as long as she could print one for the paper. We posed with the cats too.

  Adam seemed to be in a rush, or maybe it was me, feeling the effects of a too-excited-to-sleep-or-eat night and morning. Amy announced dinner and had Pastor Gaines give the blessing. Adam bounced his foot through Jeff and Addy’s toasts.

  I gulped the champagne and was happy to eat.

  The plates came and were removed like clockwork. Adam and I abandoned the head table where we were on display and went back to working the room as soon as we finished our meal.

  Elvis stood at the side of the room near the kitchen doors, glass in hand, Jazzy draped around his shoulders. Just seeing him after the excitement of last week drew my curiosity to the surface. He’d managed to never answer his phone whenever I’d called the past few days to check on the case. I would be more miffed if we were anywhere besides Adam’s and my wedding reception. He toasted us when we approached. He and Adam shook hands. I moved in close to ask the nagging question that had played with my mind all week, about how Melody planted a real diamond in my drawer, and where was Ivanna’s ring, when he kissed my cheek.

  “Later, Ivy. Promise. Have fun now, kid.”

  Kid, huh. I narrowed my eyes.

  A kaleidoscope of well-wishes and clanged-glass kisses passed. Hugs from Mom and Virgil. A tearful speech from Amy before we cut the cake—something about thanks for our support and keeping Apple Grove safe—and then I was dancing to “That’s Life!” with Adam.

  “Mr. Mayor, I had no idea what a fabulous dancer you are. We should keep this a secret,” I said breathlessly. It was the first dance and we were really cutting it up on the floor. I wasn’t usually so graceful and just bopped around to rock ‘n roll. The new ring on my left hand must have helped my balance for this big band tune.

  Adam pulled me in for a spin. “I’m not feeling mayoral right now,” he growled in my ear, then let me out. He twirled us toward the exit. “Ready?”

  Delight spread from my heart. “You bet!”

  As the song ended, we turned to face our friends from the door. Arm in arm we waved and blew kisses. “Thank you!” I called, and Adam echoed.

  Then we ran out to the car, laughing all the way. We beat Jeff and Marie who were carrying a suspicious-looking clanking box in our direction. Marie, grinning, shook her fist and held up an old shoe. Adam honked, and we waved furiously.

  Our new life together started with the most romantic evening drive along a slow and winding road over to the Mississippi River and across to the quaint little Mark Twain town of Hannibal, Missouri. If the proprietor of the gorgeous old bed and breakfast was surprised to see us arrive dressed as if we’d just escaped from a wedding, she didn’t say so. The sweet lady simply winked, handed me the room key and got out of our way.

  Adam had the old-fashioned key in the lock of the corner tower room on the third floor. I suspected it overlooked the river, though it was too dark now to see. Not that I wanted to see anything besides Adam. I curled my hands along his shoulder as he bent to turn the key.

  The door across the hall popped open. I jumped and tripped on my long dress. Thankfully I caught myself on my knees, where I came face-to-face with a gentleman who could have passed for Samuel Clemens. He, too, had fallen, but on his face. The candle he’d held toppled to the floor. Adam moved quickly to step out the flame which started to smolder on the carpet. The man groaned as he rolled partially on his side.

  I twisted toward Adam, who appeared shocked.

  “Are you hurt, Ivy?” he asked quietly as he bent near the old man’s shoulder.

  I shook my head but felt glued on all fours to the floor.

  Another weak flickering light grew brighter from the depths of the stairwell. “He-hello?”

  “Mrs. Daucett?” Adam said in a hushed tone.

  “Yes. Do-do you need anything?” the proprietress whispered.

  Sweet thing. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt.

  “Your other guest up here,” I said in a low voice. I don’t know what we were all so worried about that we felt the need to be so quiet. “I think he needs medical help.”

  “Oh! Oh, dear.” Mrs. Daucett clambered up the steps, candle in hand, much like the one her guest had used. With only dim light from the weak sconce in the hall, shadows jumped and wavered in the candlelight. What was with the candles? And Mrs. Daucett’s shawl and mob cap framing her curly white hair? I didn’t remember that a few minutes ago.

  I shifted so I sat on my side. Adam moved away from the guest to bend and help me up. We stood next to each other, watching as Mrs. Daucett pulled out a cell phone from the pocket of her flannel robe and dialed a number longer than 911.

  “Marijean, it’s Etty at The Clam. Send Frank and the boys. I’m afraid Mr. Waxley’s time has come.” She hung up, replaced the phone, and picked up both candlesticks.

  Adam and I stared at each other. Goose bumps covered probably every inch of me. “Excuse me, Mrs. Daucett?” I said.

  “Oh, dear me.” Mrs. Daucett shook her head. “I’m so very sorry about all of this. I’ll discount your next visit with us.”

  “It’s not that.” I went a step closer to peer down at the man on the floor. A shock of white hair spread above his head and thick sideburns covered half his face. A mustache added to the Mark Twain affect. “Did you call him ‘Mr. Waxley’?”

  Her bright eyes studied me. “Yes.”

  “You don’t happen to know if he was married, or had a family, or where he was from?”

  Adam tightened his hand around mine and pulled me back toward him.

  She frowned. “Well, ma’am, I’m awfully sorry, but I’m not sure.”

  We were interrupted then by pounding on the door. Mrs. Daucett excused herself and went to let in the men she’d called. “It’s all
right, now, nothing to worry about. Just a little accident,” she said to out-of-sight guests on the way.

  “She’s not sure she knows anything about him, or that she can tell us—strangers?” I whispered to Adam.

  “I don’t know,” he muttered, jaw muscle clenching and releasing.

  “What if he’s related to my aunt?”

  Heavy footfalls sounded on the last flight up the stairs. We moved out of the way as three men appeared, nodded to us and unrolled a stretcher. They soon had Mr. Waxley secured and hauled away.

  “Again, my apologies,” Mrs. Daucett, who’d followed, told us. “I’ll have a nice hot breakfast for you folks in the morning. Blueberry pancakes and a lovely spinach quiche.”

  When she left, and all was quiet again, I stared at the door across the hall, now closed. “Did what just happened, happen?” I asked Adam. “Or am I dreaming?”

  “Enough outside adventure for today,” Adam declared. He lifted me in his arms. I opened the door to our room, and he kicked it shut behind us.

  About the Author

  Lisa Lickel lives in the rolling hills of western Wisconsin. A multi-published and award-winning novelist, she also writes short stories and radio theater, is an avid book reviewer, blogger, an editor, mentor, workshop teacher, and sometimes magazine editor. Visit http://www.LisaLickel.com.

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/lisalickelauthor

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/lisalickel

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/lisajlickel

  Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/2bPxi2X

  A Devotional Moment

  Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

  ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-7