Ben dragged the grill out to the end of the tailgate. I saw to the cooler and also saw that my potato salad had indeed tumbled across the inside and spilled across the ice packs.
I turned to break the news to Ben. “Sweetie, I hate to tell you, but my potato salad ended up all over the cooler. At least the burgers are fine.”
“Uh, no, they won’t be.”
“Why not? If we just have burgers and chips without salad, that’s okay.”
“We only have chips and soda.” He sheepishly kicked at a nearby rock. “I forgot the charcoal.”
“Oh.” Mr. Never-Forget-the-Details Ben forget something as vital as charcoal? I shook my head and shrugged. “We’ll figure something out.”
Ben gave a longing look at a nearby grill, where someone else’s perfectly-shaped burgers sizzled. “I can’t believe I did that. The Fourth won’t be the Fourth without my Bongo burgers.”
Ben makes the best burgers in the world. I don’t even know what’s in his so-called Bongo burgers, exactly, but anyone who’s tasted one doesn’t care. He mixes his secret ingredients and pounds the meat with his hands, hence the name Bongo burgers. An Independence Day without Bongo burgers would be as unthinkable as Independence Day without barbecue, the “1812 Overture,” and fireworks.
“Don’t worry about it. Maybe Steve will make room on his grill for our food.” I glanced in their direction. Di was yelling at the boys about something—probably trying to keep them out of the river, which gurgled yards away from our vehicles on the dirt road.
“Okay.” Ben sighed and picked up the container that held the burgers. “C’mon. Let’s go beg for some grill space.”
I slipped my arm around him. “You know, I don’t mind. Life’s full of crazy stuff, isn’t it? And we don’t have to figure everything out.”
“You’ve got that right.” He clasped his arm around my waist and gave me a half hug. “As long as I’m with you, let the crazy stuff come.”
“Same here. As long as we have Bongo burgers.” We ambled the six yards or so over to Di and Steve’s truck, where all the makings of an outdoor kitchen had been spread out behind the vehicle.
“Please, help us.” I pointed at the burgers Ben carried. “We didn’t bring any charcoal.”
Steve looked at me as if I were nuts. “No charcoal? Here, throw ’em on.” He took the meat from Ben.
“Thanks, man.” Ben clapped him on the back. “I owe you one.”
“So where’s Momma and Daddy?” I squinted along the river road.
“Momma wasn’t feeling well, so she said she and Daddy were going to stay home, order pizza, and watch the Nashville fireworks show on TV.” Di opened the cooler and fished out some cans of soda for the boys. “Here. Y’all don’t throw the empty cans on the ground.”
“We won’t, Mom.” Stevie nudged Taylor. “C’mon.” They shot off to a group of their friends not far away.
“Pizza?” I shook my head. “That doesn’t sound like them.”
Di fanned herself with a paper plate. “Momma said it was too hot to go out, and I don’t blame her.”
As we watched the river flow past, we also noticed someone else. Emily stood out against the red, white, and blue of our fellow revelers. She made a solitary figure in her fuchsia sundress as she strolled along the riverside in our direction. The last time I’d seen Emily was that horrible day Charla died. Well, when she’d known I’d seen her. I couldn’t quite count the time I saw her at the park by the lodge, talking with Robert-the-Grieving-Fiancé.
“Look, there’s Emily,” I mumbled to Di, all the while looking at the top of their cooler. “I’m going to talk to her.”
“I’ll come with you.” Di linked arms with me, and we approached the young woman.
“Hi, Emily.” I gave her my best smile. “I was wondering how Melinda’s been.”
She looked at me quizzically, her pale eyes standing out against her summer tan. “Oh, you’re the lady who runs that soap store.”
I tried not to read anything into the “soap store” comment. “Yes, that’s me. I helped Melinda get home from the hospital the other day. I’ve been concerned about her.” Which was definitely the truth.
A shadow crossed Emily’s expression. “I have been, too. She won’t hardly talk to me, though. I tried to get her to come today, but she wouldn’t budge from the couch.”
“She’s been through a lot.” I nodded. “First Charla, now this…” I glanced at Di, whose face remained sympathetic. How to get out of this hole I’d started digging for myself?
Emily shrugged. “I feel awful about what happened.
I did what I could to help her, but…I mean, hindsight’s twenty-twenty, they say, yet I didn’t suspect…” Her eyes rounded as she looked behind us at the path.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Robert-the- Grieving-Fiancé approaching.
“Em! There you are!” Robert’s stride screamed confidence. I blinked at his attire. Who’d wear khakis and a polo shirt to a riverside Fourth of July bash? At least, in Greenburg, that is. I have to admit, a woman would have to be barely breathing not to give him a second glance.
Emily’s face flamed. “Hey there, um, Robert. I, um, was looking for you, too.”
Robert gave me the megawatt actor’s smile. “Miss Clark, is it? I trust you’re still in business?”
“I am, thanks.”
“Were you able to learn more answers to your questions?”
I looked him in the eye. Only the faintest shadow remained from where he’d had his black eye. “Actually, I’m finding out more answers with every passing moment.”
He took Emily gently by the elbow. “Ladies,” he said to us as he escorted her away, and they ambled in the direction of the bridge.
Chapter Sixteen
After Emily and Robert had disappeared in the crowd, Di turned to me and squealed like she was in junior high. “Did you see that? What was going on there?”
I shook my head. “I have no clue. Except he doesn’t seem like he was grieving as much anymore. But then you just can’t go on appearances, can you?”
“What was that Emily said about hindsight and wishing she could have done something to help?
“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell if she meant the scrub or about helping Melinda in her trouble.” Through the swirl of revelers, I glimpsed Emily, who glanced back at us. The couple headed uphill toward the main road. “But I sure wish she’d stuck around for us to ask about the baby.”
“Not with Robert right there.” Di turned on a heel and squinted at their little picnic site. “I hope Steve’s paying attention to those burgers. Otherwise we’ll all go hungry if he scorches them.”
“Ben will be crushed if his Bongo burgers get ruined.” I looked at the table full of goodies Di had spread out. If I knew Ben, he’d volunteer us to move our food down with theirs. Domestic Di hadn’t left out anyone’s appetite. She’d chased everyone away from the potato salad, cold tossed pasta, pickled okra, and watermelon but hadn’t stopped the boys from plowing through a bag of potato chips.
Shouts from the river made me look in that direction. A few kids were flinging water at each other with plastic cups, and their joyful play made me smile in spite of my confusion about Emily.
The innocence of childhood refreshed me after the lies and scheming and heartache I’d discovered these past weeks. Not in myself, but in the townspeople, who on the surface seemed successful and happy.
“Why don’t you and Ben join us, since you’re not grilling? We have a ton of food.” Di plucked my elbow, and I turned back around.
“You don’t have to twist my arm. My potato salad was ruined.” I frowned.
“Oh, that’s terrible. You used Momma’s recipe, too, didn’t you?”
“I did. Finally tried to make it after all these years. Maybe I’m not hopeless in the kitchen, and now we’ll never know.”
“Hon, you’re not hopeless, just ignorant. And it’s never too late to learn.”
“H
a. Funny. I can cook enough to make a mess. And dessert. I can do that.” I smiled at Ben, who’d settled onto a folding chair next to Steve. “I’ll be right back.” Not like I had much to bring back to Di and Steve’s spread, but at least the kids would appreciate more soda and chips. And we needed the extra pop-open canvas chairs.
I headed to Ben’s truck and let the merriment of Greenburg flow around me. Tonight I could almost forget the breakin, Charla, Melinda, and the whole drama surrounding the store. Right. After seeing Emily, I didn’t know what else could happen to turn the situation on its head.
It was still too early to start hashing over the interaction I’d just witnessed. I knew I couldn’t very well go back to Di’s picnic spot, pop open my chair, and sit staring out at the river while I tried to think. For some reason, if I got too quiet, people asked questions.
“Hi, Andi.” Trudy from Higher Grounds coffee shop blocked my path. She held out a red, white, and blue flyer. “Here. This is a fireworks safety and accident prevention guide.”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll pass this on to Di. I think she and Steve let the boys bring sparklers this year.” I folded the flyer.
“I’ve missed seeing you at the drive-thru window in the morning.” With her long hair drifting in the breeze and gauzy tunic over a peasant skirt, she reminded me of a long-lost flower child.
“I’ve kind of been on a budget lately, because of the store and all.”
Trudy nodded. “I completely understand. I was so mad this morning I almost wanted to spit nails.”
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into Higher Grounds last night. Not only did they trash the place, but they smashed two boxes of coffee cups and threw coffee grounds and beans all over the floor.” Trudy blinked hard.
“Did they tear your place up that bad?”
“No, they sure didn’t.”
My heart went out to Trudy. “Will insurance cover the damages?”
“It will, but it’s the principle of the thing.” She extended her arms out to the side and waved, the sleeves of her tunic flapping like a pair of wings. “I mean, c’mon people, if you’re just there for the money, take it and leave everything else alone.”
“I’m really sorry to hear about that. But no, they only took some money from the drawer. Nothing else was disturbed. Or, I should say vandalized.” Shadows from the trees crossed our path, and I could see Trudy without squinting as much.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump on you like that.” Trudy sighed. “I knew you could relate though, because of the incident at your store.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved off her concern. “That’s why we small-business owners need to stick together.”
“Speaking of which, you really ought to join the chamber of commerce. It would be good publicity for you—and exposure.” Trudy fanned the stack of flyers in front of her. “Plus, you get to do community service and hand out things like this.”
“I might do that. But Roland Thacker’s the chairman of the board.”
“Don’t let that stop you. Roland knows business is business. I’m sure he doesn’t blame you for what happened.” Trudy glanced over at a nearby family. “Well, on I go with my safety crusade. Stop by the shop when you can.”
“I’ll do that.” I tried to smile at Trudy, but she had already flitted off again like a butterfly to another flower. She must be on a perpetual caffeine buzz, as much energy as she possessed.
Once I picked up the cooler and the bag of chips from the truck, I managed to tuck the fold-up camp chairs under one arm and head back to Di and Steve’s area.
Ben hurried to meet me. “Hey, you should have asked me to come with you instead of trying to drag all this back on your own.”
I grinned. “Thanks, but I didn’t really think about that. Here.” I let him take the cooler that had bumped and slid behind me as I dragged it along. “How are your burgers doing?”
“They’re fine.” His dimple winked at me from his cheek.
“At least dinner is saved tonight.”
Soon we had our seats clustered around Steve’s grill and watched him remove hot sausage links, ribs, and hot dogs and place them in a pile, a virtual heart attack on a plate. Di corralled Stevie and Taylor away from their friends and the water’s edge. She efficiently broke out the Wet Wipes while Taylor protested.
I grinned and took a hot link, plus some of Di’s salad, then returned to my chair next to Ben’s. His eyes caught mine.
“What’s going on?” He took a swig of soda.
“What do you mean?” I started on the hot link, and the spicy bite made my lips tingle. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?” Couldn’t a person just eat without talking up a storm? I tried to smile at him, but my mouth burned.
“That look that tells me you’re anywhere but here.” Ben looked out at the river. “Today’s a day to sit back, relax, and celebrate our freedom, not carry the weight of the world, or at least the weight of Greenburg.”
I sighed. “Di and I saw something earlier that really surprised us, and I’m trying to figure out what it all means. Emily, one of Charla’s bridesmaids, meeting up with Robert here at the riverside and leaving together. They looked awfully friendly.”
Ben nodded. “Okay. We know they know each other. Just remember, you might only be seeing part of the story.”
“I know that, and I’m trying to keep that in mind. But it doesn’t add up.” If I kept on like this, I’d give myself a royal headache. “If Melinda and Robert had been an item, what’s going on with Emily and Robert now? Especially after having such a heated argument the day of the youth-group picnic?”
“Maybe they made up, and he’s giving her some law advice. Or they’re going to another get-together. Or maybe having dinner somewhere else instead of getting bitten—” Ben slapped his arm. “—by mosquitoes near the river while waiting for the fireworks display to start.”
“Okay. I get your point.” I glanced toward Di.
“Maybe she had some bug spray. She’d already lit a citronella candle.”
“Just because people hang out together doesn’t mean anything romantic is going on.”
But my women’s intuition radar was going off again. Maybe it’s from growing up in a small town where new couples always get thrust under the town’s microscope, with every smile and handhold and glance scrutinized. Assumptions weren’t fair to Emily or Robert. Just because he appeared to have moved on pretty quickly didn’t mean he had anything to do with Charla’s death.
Ben took my hand and made me look at him. “So what about us?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely something romantic going on.”
Ben’s eyes sparkled in the twilight that glowed on the river. “I’m glad to know that. Because once I’m home, we’ll have plenty of time to spend together.”
His love crossed the space between us, and I felt it wrap around my heart. “I can’t wait. And I mean that.”
“Just do me a favor.”
If he’d asked me to fly to the nearest star I’d have tried. “What’s that?”
“For tonight, drop this crusade of yours. Concentrate on us, and leave other people’s troubles and worries far away.”
I squeezed his hand and realized he’d been the talkative one tonight. It always meant something for Ben to open up like that, so I replied, “Tonight, that’s a promise. I love you, Ben.”
“And I love you, too.”
The first whoosh of fireworks being set off echoed from the bridge, followed by a spangle of lights in the dusk. Then came the ground-shaking boom. Ben slid his chair closer to mine and put his arm around me.
Tonight, regardless of what else had happened, my world was perfect. I’d be like Scarlett and worry about the other situation tomorrow. Or at least until the fireworks’ glow died away.
Chapter Seventeen
Despite my promise to Ben while we were at the river, I tossed and turned after settling in for the night. When I did s
leep, I dreamed of Emily and Robert, her in a wedding dress and him in a tuxedo, while Melinda chased them. She was crying and held a baby in her arms. Then the baby disappeared. Emily and Robert’s laughter made Melinda sprout wings and fly away. I stood there, my hands tied with clothesline rope, while Ben had his back to me and couldn’t hear my cries for him to do something.
Wouldn’t a shrink have a field day with that dream? I laid there in the dark and stared at the evil clock that told me it was only three thirty.
Finally I threw off the covers and went to the medicine cabinet. This was definitely the last time I ate a hot link so late at night. Heartburn. I found a container of antacid, took some, then decided to get a cool drink.
The air conditioner rumbled in the window as I passed it on the way to the kitchen. Tonight my normally snug home felt yawning and empty. I thought of Di’s home, filled to the brim with love and clutter and chaos. The clutter and chaos would drive me nuts, but I wouldn’t mind a home at least filled with love. And controlled chaos. My independence, once worn like a badge of accomplishment, now seemed rusted and old.
How many times over the years had Ben hinted that I should ask him to come home? I couldn’t blame him for not being straight-out forthright about what he wanted, and maybe my prickliness had shot him down before he’d had a chance to speak.
What if I had said, “Ben, please come home so we can start our life together” three or four years ago? I wouldn’t be here, renting my great-aunt’s old shotgun house and listening to the air conditioner rattle the walls in the middle of the night.
“Right now you’re alone. Just like Melinda. Just like Charla. Just like Emily, even though she thinks she’s found someone.”
So I poured myself a glass of ice water, and I prayed. For Melinda, Emily, even Robert, although I didn’t hold too high an opinion of him. And for Ben and me, of course. I’d been having more of these heart-to-hearts with God, when I wasn’t just begging for His help to keep my business afloat. What kind of a relationship is it when the only time the one you love talks to you is when they want something? So I was trying to rip my focus from my fear about life, love, and solving a murder, and focus on how much God wanted to be a part of everything I did.
A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) Page 13