He smiled and thanked them and paced the full length of the vestibule before the door opened again. In walked Lauren and Brooke. Lauren wore a hunter green wool suit and her hair fell over her shoulders in soft blond curls. Brooke wore a demure knit dress of soft blue green that brought out the blue tones of her pretty gray eyes.
“Smile!” Flash. Another chuckle from Evan.
“Evan Webster,” Brooke said, “if you use that thing against me one more time I’ll break one of your fingers.”
“You look pretty, Brooke. Let me take one more picture. Please?”
“No. And remember you’re not supposed to disturb people. Stop using your flash.” She turned her back on him just as he snapped another picture of her. She ignored him. “Archer, isn’t it bad luck or something for the groom to be seen before the wedding?”
“I don’t believe in luck. Where are your father and brother?”
“Hospital.”
He smiled and nodded, suppressing the urge to scream. Hello? Lord, are you there? Would you please test my faith some other time?
“They wouldn’t even let me go with them,” Brooke said.
“Two of the deacons have been pressed into service as ushers,” Archer said.
“Sorry. It sounded urgent. Big bust or something.”
“Bust!” Evan exclaimed a little too loudly. “Did you say bust? As in police?”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said but I didn’t mean to announce it to the whole church.” She eyed the camera. “Did you download the other shots?”
“Not all of them.” He pointed to his watch. “And not these. I haven’t figured out how to do them yet. I need Beau.”
The front door opened again and a young woman in her early twenties breezed into the foyer, her long purple—purple!—hair shimmering across her nearly bare shoulders, black lipstick gouged in a straight line over her mouth. Someone gasped behind him. It sounded like Mrs. Boucher.
He studied the young woman more closely and felt a slow trickle of dread climb up his spine. It was Heather, Jessica’s younger sister. He’d barely recognized her through the thick layer of pale makeup on her face and the heavy caking of black over her eyelashes. Worse, her dress—if it could be called that—was made of material disturbingly similar to the bridesmaid’s dresses Jessica had chosen—but it wasn’t the same style. It had spaghetti straps that appeared ready to snap. The neckline plunged several inches lower than he ordinarily saw inside these church walls.
If he so chose he could see her navel through the peek-a-boo lace cutout over her belly. He also saw pink fishnet stockings beneath a hem that ended several inches above her knees.
Flash! Chuckle. Heather’s smile was broad and friendly and earned another flash.
Archer heard three more gasps and was afraid several ladies in his congregation would swoon if Heather walked down the aisle in that getup. Jessica had warned him. He should have been expecting something, but this?
Before he could recover, Lauren and Brooke had stepped over and introduced themselves to her. Brooke asked where she could find a pair of stockings like Heather’s and Lauren asked about the purple hair. He wished they wouldn’t encourage her.
Sweat broke out on his forehead.
Flash! Chuckle.
Archer didn’t want to have to injure Evan.
Chapter 26
In the final moments of quiet organ music, while the bridesmaids congregated in the vestibule, Grant led the way toward the packed auditorium ahead of Beau. Who had been chosen to take his place as usher? He wished he’d been here but he’d had no choice. He and Beau hovered in the back, searching for the top of Brooke’s dark head.
Someone nudged him from behind and he turned to find Evan poised behind him, camera at eye level, grinning broadly.
“Smile!”
“Evan,” Beau said, “shouldn’t you be in your—”
Flash! “I’m helping with photography.” Evan held the camera up as proof.
“You’re not supposed to disturb the guests,” Beau said. “Turn off your flash and don’t be so conspicuous.”
“Nobody’ll pay any attention to me. Photographers tend to blend into the woodwork.”
“This is a wedding, not a ball game, and you don’t blend well.”
“Beau, you’re beginning to sound like Brooke,” Evan complained.
“You’ll thank me later for not letting you make a fool of yourself. Don’t let all the hype about those articles go to your head.”
“But Jessica asked me to take pictures.”
“She didn’t ask you to make a mockery out of one of the most important days of her life.”
“Fine, I’ll turn off the flash. Will that make you happy?”
“And no jumping up to the platform. Stay in your seat and don’t draw attention to yourself or Brooke will have to kill you later.”
Evan scowled at him and then shrugged and preceded them into the auditorium.
“There’s Lauren sitting beside her family.” Beau pointed toward the center section. “Brooke’s beside her. Looks like they saved us a place.”
Grant led the way down the aisle where each pew was decorated with poinsettias tied with lace. The leaves matched the tux that lay across his bed at home.
He reached the pew where Lauren and Brooke sat. He couldn’t help admiring the way Lauren’s hair tumbled over her shoulders, the way she sat with her shoulders straight, her head high. And she was wearing her best color, which matched the green of her eyes.
He leaned down and whispered into her left ear. “May we sit here?”
She nodded and scooted while Brooke, seated to her right, glared at them and pointed at her watch. “You’re way late, Dad,” she mouthed soundlessly.
He nodded a greeting toward the occupants in the remainder of the row—Lauren’s mother and Hardy’s wife and daughters. Lauren’s other brother, Roger, was ushering but his family filled the pew behind them. The McCaffreys were out in full force.
Grant returned his attention to Lauren. “Thanks for saving a place for us.”
She smiled and he saw the quiver of her chin, the moisture in her eyes. She was struggling with this. Hardy should be here.
Grant took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back hard. In his side vision he could see her mother nudge her sister. If only Lauren’s mother wasn’t quite so obvious.
As enchanting classical piano music filled the auditorium, the seven-year-old flower girl, Archer’s niece, Morgan, walked with slow practiced confidence along the aisle. She carried a basket of flower petals. After a few measured steps a bridesmaid followed.
During the procession the three groomsmen paced themselves across the floor one at a time to meet the bridesmaids and escort them up the steps to the platform. Tony came in last, using the tip of his cane against the bottom step to guide him.
Grant relaxed. They’d all made it.
***
Archer had never cried at a wedding before but he feared he might break with tradition at his own. He’d been uncomfortably emotional these past days and it didn’t seem to be abating. Part of that emotion was grief over Hardy’s death, especially linked with the tragedy of Oakley Brisco. He had to admit that another part of it was from nerves. Heather and Evan headed his list of stressors but Tony hadn’t helped when he’d rushed into the dressing room five minutes after the organ chimed its first lofty processional notes across the auditorium.
But most of the emotion that filled Archer was joy. How many times in the past year had he been convinced this day would never happen? Even this week he’d had his doubts.
Okay, just a twinge of that emotion was irritability. Evan Webster had taken Jessica’s request for casual snapshots far too seriously. At least he was sitting down now beside his father, Norville. The fact that Norville was sitting beside Mayor Jade Myers had caused a great deal of commotion among the ranks of certified self-appointed newscasters.
Tony moved with grace and dignity along the fron
t of the steps and stood waiting to escort Heather—
Heather!
Archer stopped breathing and turned his attention to the central aisle, where a beautiful young woman with golden blond hair and a demure dress in green silk—and a wicked grin—took her time coming down the aisle to meet Tony. No purple hair. No lace-covered navel or cleavage. No black lipstick.
Archer was able to breathe again and he chuckled to himself, partly from relief, partly from amusement.
Tony escorted her up the steps with perfect grace and she made her way across the stage toward the piano where she was to sing. But first she paused in front of Archer and winked.
“Had you scared, didn’t I?” she whispered.
He returned her audacious smile. It was possible that someday she would get married. She would have to find a man with enough stamina to keep up with her singing schedule and her outrageous personality. On that day Archer would enlist his wife’s help to wreak vengeance on his sister-in-law.
Jessica had warned him that her family would require some adjustments but he thought he’d done all that months ago.
The music changed as Heather took her place. Archer looked toward the back of the auditorium. The congregation stood. Amazement expanded inside his heart.
Jessica’s smile of adoration radiated toward him. She floated down the aisle as if escorted by angels. She wore a simple gown of white silk and walked alone, holding a bouquet of poinsettias.
Joy shone in her eyes as she looked up at him.
He stepped down to the bottom of the steps and took her arm to guide her up beside him. Together they turned and gazed out at the much beloved faces of family, friends, congregation. He was the wealthiest man on earth.
He saw the glowing candles that signified the eternal flame of their love as they remained connected to the source of true love. They had discussed who would do the honors of lighting the candles, since Jessica’s mother had died years ago and her father, a near hermit terrified of crowds, had barely been convinced to attend the wedding. Instead of using the traditional mother’s candles, they had designated two of Archer’s nephews to do all the candle lighting. Now the stage glowed with the gentle flames.
Heather’s voice entranced the congregation with its purity during the love song “Perfect Moments,” which Jessica had written. Archer and Jessica lit their unity candle and knelt together at the altar to pray while Heather sang “The Lord’s Prayer.”
They had written their own ring ceremony and Jessica’s voice quivered with emotion as she spoke the words that came from her heart.
Heather’s song of memorial to Hardy drew Archer’s tears at last and Jessica reached out to take his hand.
At the end of the ceremony, when the groom was finally instructed by the minister—Dad—to kiss the bride, Archer drew his wife into his arms with gentle tenderness. He gazed into her eyes and lowered his head to touch her lips with his own.
This moment belonged to him and Jessica alone. He forgot the congregation, forgot all the tension and stress. He held the love of his life in his arms and nothing had ever felt more wonderful or more right.
Someone chuckled near the front row and he released Jessica at last, holding that kiss in his heart as a promise of the joy that was to come as they turned to face the auditorium as husband and wife. All their loved ones burst into spontaneous energetic applause.
Life couldn’t get any better. And no one could steal this joy.
***
At Archer’s request, Grant checked out the decoy getaway vehicle, Archer’s Kia, at the far end of the parking lot. It had been decorated with pink-and-blue ribbons and bows and was filled with tissue paper. The steering wheel had been chained and a string of fifty or sixty keys—which Archer and Jessica would ostensibly be expected to try in the padlock until they found the right one—lay on the seat. Archer had “trusted” Roger McCaffrey with the care of the car. And Roger had fallen for his ruse. Archer and Jessica would drive away in Jessica’s Subaru Outback, which was parked safely in Grant’s garage.
He heard the sound of sneaking footsteps behind him and he turned in time to catch Evan with the camera to his face.
“Evan, if you’re not careful that thing’s going to grow into your eye. You’ll be a cyborg and you won’t be able to run without batteries.”
Evan closed the automatic lens cover and stuck the camera in his pocket. The broad grin, which had appeared to be a permanent fixture on his acne-marked face through most of the service, spread to an impossible width. “Three people have already asked me to be the photographer at their Christmas parties, Dr. Sheldon.” He looked at the car and his eyes widened. “Oh man, did you do that? Archer’s going to kill you.”
Grant smiled. He laid an arm across Evan’s shoulders and walked with him back to the church dining room where the reception was being held. “So Evan, I hear you and Brooke have been lending your expertise to do a little undercover work for our local police department.”
He felt Evan’s shoulder tense. “Sergeant Dalton told you?”
“He told me.” And that wasn’t all they’d discussed. Grant couldn’t help reacting like a father—horrified of the danger Evan and Brooke had placed themselves in but proud of their courage.
He was also hurt by the fact that both of his kids had been keeping too many secrets from him lately. Time for a little talk.
***
Archer and Jessica took a break from greeting their guests, posed for their last picture, and tasted the cake and punch. Archer wolfed down a handful of mixed nuts and took another swallow of punch with two more forkfuls of cake. He and Jessica wouldn’t have lunch until they reached Eureka Springs this afternoon. He’d made reservations at Rogue’s Manor. But he was starved right now.
Leaning close to Jessica’s left ear he whispered, “Roger fell for the decoy. He’s decorated my car and locked the steering wheel. He did the same thing at Hardy’s wedding so I knew what to expect.”
“My car’s at Grant’s, right?”
“Yes but I’d really like to play along if you don’t mind the extra time.”
She looked up at him with a tender gaze. She cupped his chin with her hand and kissed him. “Of course I don’t mind.”
“The family’ll get a big kick out of it.”
“So will I.”
He took her into his arms. “I love you.”
***
“Grounded? Dad!” Brooke’s cry of personal offense echoed through the reception hall, attracting attention from several of the guests standing in line for cake and punch.
“And what do you mean we’re both grounded?” Though Beau’s voice didn’t carry as well as his sister’s, his outrage matched hers in intensity. “I’ve been home taking care of things while Brooke’s been driving all over town with Evan.”
“Evan and I were being responsible citizens, making sure creeps like Peregrine didn’t get away.”
“You’ve both been keeping vital information from me.” Grant leaned across the table, which he had chosen because it was in a far corner of the room that hadn’t yet begun to fill with guests. “I’m well aware of our family’s tendency to keep secrets from one another on the premise that we’re being protective. I’ve got news for you—it doesn’t work that way. I’m still your father and no matter how grown up you two think you are, I’m still in charge.” He saw Brooke’s eyes widen as his own voice carried a little more clearly than he’d meant for it to.
“Sorry, Dad.” There was still some discomfort in Beau’s voice. “I know we should have told you about Hardy—”
“I’m not talking about Hardy, although I think I’ve made my feelings clear to Lauren about that incident. I’m talking about the stalker who rammed you.”
Beau’s lips parted in surprise. “Tony told you?”
“Tony assured me that he never promised to keep your secret. He’s a policeman and you’re a minor. As your father I have a right to know what’s going on in your life so that I’ll know how
to protect you. I would never have left you two alone for a week and a half if I’d been informed about your activities.”
“Lauren was with us,” Brooke said.
“Lauren ended up working half of those nights and she had a few nightmares of her own.”
“But Dad, if you hadn’t gone to St. Louis you wouldn’t have been able to defend yourself against that lawsuit,” Brooke said.
“And your whole professional reputation would have been ruined,” Beau said.
“And you wouldn’t have found out about Grandma. Who knows what would have happened to her if—”
“Don’t even try those excuses with me, you two. You didn’t know all those things were going to happen when you withheld that information—you were just trying to protect me. I don’t need protection, I need the whole story. I’m your father.”
“But we kept in touch with Sergeant Dalton,” Beau said.
“Tony isn’t your father, I am.” Grant held his son’s gaze until Beau nodded and looked away, then he looked at Brooke. “And you—”
“I know.” She held her hands up in front of her face in a gesture of self-preservation. “I’m a horrible daughter for making my father worry about me and risking my life—”
“You’re a wonderful daughter and I’m proud of both of you. I still haven’t come to grips with it all but I do know you’re both still grounded until further notice.” He raised a hand when they both started to protest. “It’s for your physical protection. No cruising, no movies, no ‘research’ for one of Evan’s articles unless you’re with a crowd or with me or another adult I trust.”
“Okay, Dad,” Beau said. “You’re right.”
Brooke gave her brother a glare that labeled him as a traitor, then she slumped in her seat. “Fine.”
Grant knew he would have to be satisfied with that for now. “I love you both.”
“Yeah I know, we love you too,” Brooke said grudgingly. “Can we get in line for some cake now? And you might check on Lauren and see why she’s sitting all by herself in the far corner of the room.”
NECESSARY MEASURES Page 27