Give Me Some Sugar

by Gen Griffin

  “I guess y'all can eat without us,” Trish said. She'd already picked her purse up off one of the plush embroidered chairs. “We're going dress shopping.”

  “Again,” Katie said.

  “Again,” Gracie confirmed unhappily. “Because we had so much freaking fun the first time.”

  Katie and Trish groaned in unison. “Come on,” Trish said to Gracie. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be done.”

  “I don't know if I can find another wedding dress,” Gracie said. “It took me months to pick the first one.”

  “We know,” Katie said. “Why do you think we have to leave right now?”

  Addison wrapped one of his arms around Gracie's shoulders and pulled her against his side. “You'll be fine. Trust me. Y'all go get new dresses. Everything is going to work out.”

  “Promise?” Gracie asked, not believing him for an instant.

  “Absolutely.” Addison kissed her on the top of her forehead. “Your wedding is going to be perfect.”

  Chapter 37

  “Green is so not my color.” Katie stepped out of the dressing room and twirled around in a circle. The grass-colored dress was supposed to be tea-length but the hem ended just above Katie's ankles. The ruffled top hung in loose folds across her chest, exposing a bright pink push-up bra to the world. “I look like a rotten avocado.”

  “I think this dress gets a unanimous two thumbs down.” Trish was wearing the same dress that Katie had on. The ruffles covering her already generous breasts magnified them so that they appeared enormous. The clingy, nearly sheer fabric clung to every bump and lump of her curvy figure. The outline of her bikini cut panties was clearly visible through both the front and back of the dress. “I hate everything about this dress.”

  “It looks terrible on both of you. Kind of a shame since its the only dress Sue Ann has in stock in both an extra large and a small.” Gracie put her hands on the hips of the Cinderella-style ballgown that Sue Ann Smith, the owner of the Bayou Boutique, had found for her to try on. The tulle skirts were so wide that she'd had a hard time pushing her way through the dressing room door. “Not that I'm doing any better. I'm dressed like Bridal Barbie and I'm shedding glitter. I have sparkles in places where the sun don't shine.”

  “Beggars can't be choosers, Gracie.” Sue Ann came walking into the small dressing area with another armful of dresses wrapped in plastic garment bags. Her dyed blonde hair was piled high on top of her head in an elaborate beehive that looked as if it were threatening to topple at any minute.“I found a few more wedding dresses in your size in my storage building out back. All I can say is that y'all had better be grateful that I get so much of my income from the online, trunk sale and consignment side of my business. Of course, ninety-five percent of the formal dresses I buy for re-sale are used and I'm sure that's not what you girls wanted, but I promise you no one will be able to tell. I only buy gowns if they're in exquisite condition.”

  “We are eternally grateful,” Katie promised.

  “Good. You look terrible in that dress, Katherine. It does nothing for your figure.” Sue Ann hung the dresses she was carrying on hooks on the wall. She pushed her eyeglasses up her nose and surveyed the room. Sue Ann had been a classmate of Gracie's parents in high school. Gracie had known the older woman for her entire life. “I still can't believe someone stole your dresses. Y'all really don't have any idea who did it?”

  “My bet is still on April Lynne,” Gracie muttered under her breath.

  “No,” Trish said, intentionally speaking loudly enough that Gracie couldn't be heard. “We don't know who did it and we don't really have time to figure it out. Addison's handling the theft. Maybe he'll find some evidence and make an arrest.”

  “Addison is?” Sue Ann raised her eyebrow at Trish. “I wasn't under the impression he did much investigating. I thought he mostly ran around town chasing tail and antagonizing Kerry Longwood.”

  “Speaking of my darling brother and his bad decisions, I still can't believe he invited Makinsley Madison to my wedding.” Gracie tried to dust some of the sparkles off of her arms, but only succeeded in sending more glitter dust into the air.

  Sue Ann snorted back a laugh. “Makinsley's not so bad. She's one of my best customers. Besides, I suggest you girls stop worrying about who is on your guest list and spend more time worrying about what you're going to be wearing. I think you should give up on finding identical dresses and go for something in the same color scheme.”

  “I don't care if we have matching dresses or not.” Gracie threw her arms up into the air with exasperation. “Hell, I'm ready to walk down the aisle in jeans and a pretty tank top. It's not like Cal cares about this wedding in the slightest.”

  “Cal cares about your wedding. He's just stressed out.” Katie clucked her tongue at Gracie. “You sure you don't care if the dresses are mismatched?”

  “I don't even care if we wear dresses,” Gracie said. “I hate all this frilly, girly crap. I'm sick and tired of fussing over which shade of orange properly accents the gold candles and where the carnations are placed in the floral arrangements. I don't care about any of this. As far as I'm concerned, this wedding is a massive waste of money that Cal and I could be putting towards finishing and furnishing our house.”

  “You're only going to get married once.” Katie mimicked Cal's mother's careful, proper and slightly huffy tone, hoping to get Gracie to crack a smile. “It has to be memorable.”

  “Oh, it's been memorable.” Gracie examined the dresses that Sue Ann had just brought in without enthusiasm.

  “You only get married once, unless you're me and screw up the first time.” Trish's voice practically dripped with self-deprication. “I'm bringing twenty grand in debt from my last wedding into my new relationship.”

  “Preach it, girl.” Sue Ann clapped her hands together and smiled at Trish. “I'm on number three and, as much as I love buying wedding gowns and dressing up, I won't be a bride for a fourth time.”

  “Ugh, you're seriously still paying for your wedding to Curtis?” Gracie wrinkled her nose at Trish.

  “I wouldn't lie to you,” Trish said with a tired sigh. “The good news is that, unlike me, you're marrying a great guy the first time. All you have to do is survive the next twenty four hours and then you'll be on a cruise ship in the Bahamas drinking fruity cocktails with overly complicated names while we clean up the mess that results from hosting a party with 400 guests.”

  “I thought we were paying someone to do the cleaning?” Gracie was horrified at the thought of having to clean up after the wedding. The bachelorette party aftermath had been gross enough.

  “We are. Or, to be specific, Miss Loretta is.”

  “Then why-?”

  “Gracie, do you think 70 centerpieces and 456 chair bows are going to magically evaporate after you get done using them?” Trish asked.

  Sue Ann actually laughed.

  “Oh crud,” Gracie said.

  “Miss Loretta has already roped David and I into boxing up all the wedding leftovers and either selling them or storing them. She wants us to do it because she figures I can decide what I want to reuse when David and I get married.” Trish smirked as she put her hand on the hip of her ugly green dress. “Little does she know, we're eloping.”

  “Y'all are not.”

  “You can't stop us.”

  “Don't try me,” Gracie said. “If I have to wear a fluffy dress, then so do you.”

  “Mmm, we'll see.” Trish gave a non-committal shrug. “You need to pick your big, white fluffy dress out already.”

  “I already picked one out. It's not my fault some insane person stole it. It is so unfair that I have to do this twice.”

  “I'll go see if I can find some more dresses that will be to your liking,” Sue Ann announced and then headed out the dressing room door.

  “I hate weddings,” Gracie announced to no one in particular as Sue Ann made her escape.

  “Gracie?” Katie batted her eyes sweetly
at Gracie.

  “What?”

  “Stop whining and start trying on dresses or we'll be here all night.”

  Gracie pursed her lips at her friend. “It's my wedding and I'll whine if I want to.”

  “You're being a pain in the ass.”

  “And?” Gracie nearly smiled as she crossed her arms over her chest and sent yet another burst of glitter flying out into the air around her.

  “And you're not trying on dresses while you do it, which means that your complaining is slowing us down. I'm hungry. No one wants to spend all night sitting around in this store while you try on one dress per hour and complain about it.” Katie began stripping off the ugly bridesmaids dress, not caring in the slightest who saw her yellow and blue polka dot size extra small undies or the completely mismatched hot pink 32-A push-up bra she was wearing under her clothes.

  “Nice undies,” Gracie told her as she began working her own way out of the glittery ballgown.

  “Shush. I would have made an effort to match if I'd known we were trying on dresses today.”

  “I match,” Trish said with a small laugh as she ducked back into one of the dressing room stalls to remove her own dress in private.

  “You always match,” Gracie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We can't all be as perfect as you.”

  Katie raised one eyebrow at Gracie and then grinned when she saw Gracie had mixed blue lace panties with a purple silk bra. Gracie shrugged at Katie. “I wasn't planning on anyone seeing them either.”

  “At least we weren't wearing granny panties.”

  “At least I was wearing panties,” Gracie agreed with a smirk.

  Katie laughed but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “We are so not sexy. Unlike Trish, who has all the boys chasing her.”

  Gracie let the ballgown fell to the ground at her feet. She stepped out of the skirts.“Which dress should I try on next?”

  “I don't know.” Katie picked up a semi-sheer pink dress that Sue Ann had brought in with the first batch of dresses and slipped it over her head. It fit her just like a pillow case. “Just start at the top of your pile and work your way through it.”

  “I like my blue jeans,” Gracie grumbled as she reached for a delicate lace gown that was hanging from the wall beside her.

  Katie rolled her eyes as she headed out of the shared dressing room. “I'll be back. I'm going to go see how many high school flashbacks I can give myself while I raid the homecoming and winter formal dresses out back.”

  Gracie laughed as Katie shut the door behind her.

  Chapter 38

  “Nice house.” Sully stared up at the golf course mansion and wondered how Kerry afforded the house on the salary of a Possum Creek deputy.

  “Thanks.” Kerry unlocked the front door with a key. “It's been for sale for the last six months. I was asking three hundred thousand but then Cal Walker shot Curtis dead in my driveway and now my realtor says I'm not going to be able to give the damn place away. One death in the house can be overlooked, especially considering that my mother died from what basically boiled down to natural causes. Two deaths within a year, however, just ruin your real estate value.”

  “Oh.” Sully didn't know what to say to that.

  “He didn't even die inside the house. Trish shoved him out the second story guest bedroom window. Surprisingly, the fall onto the concrete didn't kill him. Nope. He would have survived if Cal hadn't blown half his skull off with that .357 he carries around. The crime scene cleaners couldn't get the blood stain off the driveway. I had to have a construction crew come in, break up the concrete and put new concrete in. It cost me over ten thousand dollars, but do you think anyone offered to reimburse me for my losses?” Kerry stomped through into the kitchen and turned on the lights.

  Sully trailed after him, taking in the massive stainless steel appliances and floor to ceiling windows that overlooked a covered swimming pool with its own fountain. The entire rear of the house looked out over the Callahan County Country Club's golf course.

  “You know you can just leave, right?” Kerry opened up his refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. He didn't offer Sully anything. “I'm not a murderer or a flight risk.”

  “I promised Sheriff Chasson I would keep you in my official custody until Monday,” Sully said.

  “At which point my seventy two hour hold will be over and you'll have to release me. Actually, my hold will be over on Sunday afternoon. You can't keep me until Monday.” Kerry waggled his finger at Sully in a very patronizing no-no gesture.

  Sully leaned against the square table for eight that was occupying what he supposed was technically a breakfast nook. “You had a dead woman's head in your trunk. Her family wants justice. I talked with the Sheriff earlier and he's leaning towards charging you with Beverly Jones's murder.”

  Kerry dropped the water bottle out of his hand. The bottle hit the floor and water splashed up, covering the legs of his pants and coating Sully in a fine mist. “I didn't kill her!” Kerry exclaimed.

  “We don't have any other suspects.” Sully purposely ignored Kerry and focused on looking out the window at the golf course. Some guy had just slung his putter into a water hazard in a fit of anger. Idiot.

  “What about Addison?” Kerry demanded.

  “What about Addison?” Sully threw his own words back at him. “Addison wasn't the one who was driving around Possum Creek with a head in the trunk of his personal vehicle.”

  “Addison doesn't have a personal vehicle.” Kerry's cheeks were turning a very bright shade of angry pink. “Or a trunk.”

  “If you have any evidence at all that you think will help clear your name, I'd be delighted to see it,” Sully said. “Truth be told, I'm not looking forward to rooming with you. You strike me as being a pretty high maintenance kind of guy.” Sully gestured to the opulent kitchen.

  “I didn't kill that woman and I have no idea who did,” Kerry said.

  “You keep saying you're innocent, but so do all the rest of the murderers on death row. Give me a reason to believe you.”

  “I'm a cop!” Kerry stomped his feet against the tile floor.

  “So was what's his name.” Sully couldn't remember the name of the last Callahan County deputy who had gone over to the criminal side of life. “What was his name again? The deputy who killed his wife's lover and then took you hostage?”

  “I'm not Richard Perkins.”

  “Right. You're not Perkins. You could be Ian McIntyre, I reckon. He killed that girl while y'all were in high school.” Sully pretended to check out the edges of his fingernails and then began filing them with his pocket knife. “You know, for a small police force, the Callahan County Sheriff's Department has way more of its share of murderers. Two out of a staff of what, five people? That's like forty percent murderous cop. Sixty percent if you get convicted. Pretty sure that's worse than New York City. Hell, might even be worse than Detroit.”

  “Go to hell,” Kerry told him.

  “I'm going to be living with you for the next two days. That's basically the same thing as hell, so technically we're already there.” Sully shrugged.

  Kerry's entire face had turned redder than a late summer tomato. His hands were shaking as he pointed one index finger at Sully. “I am a good cop. I am the best fucking cop this shithole town has ever had. I am the only honest cop this shithole town has ever had. The only reason I'm under arrest is because Addison wants me gone and he'll do anything to get rid of me. He doesn't want me uncovering any more of his precious little secrets or sending any more of his buddies to jail. Addison Malone is a liar and a killer. He and Frank Chasson have been doing whatever they want for years and I am the only person standing between those two criminals and total chaos for the citizens of this county!”

  “Uh huh. I wish I bought that story but you still haven't given me any evidence,” Sully drawled the words out slowly and calmly. The calmer he stayed, the more upset Kerry got.

  “I don't have it yet!” Kerry's
eyes were bulging in their sockets as he slammed his fist down against the counter. “I've been in Possum Creek for almost an entire year and I have nothing to show for it. Every time I find evidence of Addison's wrongdoing, I give it to Sheriff Chasson and he dismisses it. He always has excuses. He always looks the other way and lets those criminals slide right through the cracks in the walls of justice. I have devoted my life, my entire life, to getting justice. I wanted justice for Casey.”

  “You got justice for Casey,” Sully pointed out.

  Kerry let out a very small, soft laugh. “Justice? You call what happened to Casey justice?”

  “Ian confessed.”

  “Ian got a plea deal and he'll never see the inside of a jail cell. He doesn't even have a criminal record. He's still free to live his life. Hell, he didn't even get fired. He's still technically a cop. Do you really think a few months of unpaid administrative leave is fair punishment for murdering a teenage girl? Do you?” Kerry demanded. “Answer me!”

  Sully took a deep breath and then shook his head. “No. I don't think that's justice. I'll give you that much. Ian got a slap on the wrist.”

  “He can't even find her body!” Tears had begun to stream down Kerry's cheeks now. “He can't even find her. He doesn't remember where he hid her body. We can't even bury her properly. How is that anything but criminal?”

  Sully truly didn't have an answer to that one, so instead he walked past Kerry and opened up the refrigerator. He pretended to be looking through the canned drinks on the shelves as he watched Kerry wipe the tears from his eyes.

  “I hate all of them,” Kerry said. “I hate Ian. I hate Addison. I hate Frank Chasson for protecting Ian and Addison. I just hate everyone. I want nothing more than to see each and every one of them rotting in a jail cell for the crimes they have committed.”

  “You still haven't told me what crimes Addison has committed,” Sully pointed out as he chose an off brand grape soda from the shelf.

  “He helped Ian kill Casey,” Kerry said, sounding marginally calmer than he had a moment before. “I'm sure of it. He didn't want Ian to confess.”