by Gen Griffin
“Hide the whiskey,” Cal muttered.
“You're the one holding the whiskey,” David hissed back, pointing at the blue water bottle that was in Cal's hand.
“Oops,” Cal said with a grin.
“What are all of you doing out here?” Miss Loretta repeated herself as she walked up to the truck. “Sitting around in the parking lot and having a snack?”
“Something like that,” Addison admitted.
Miss Loretta rolled her eyes and snatched the water bottle out of Addison's hands. She twisted off the lid and took a sniff of the contents. “Tell me y'all aren't out here drinking while seven hundred and thirty people wait inside for you to make your appearance?”
“Did you just say seven hundred and thirty people?” Cal looked just a horrified as Gracie felt.
“We did a head count. Yes. Also, we're running out of food, so you might as well finish those sandwiches you're all hiding before you go in. I'd only planned to feed six hundred.” Loretta eyed the cooler with a wary expression. “I don't suppose you packed an extra sandwich, actually?”
David dug one out and handed it to her. “All the sandwiches were technically extras.”
Miss Loretta unwrapped it and took a bite. “Sometimes I just don't know what to do with y'all. We can go along nicely for months, me thinking I've done a good job raising my children into adulthood, and then y'all hide out in the parking lot of your own wedding like a bunch of high school kids sneaking beer.” She was doing her best to hide her amusement as she spoke.
Cal snickered back a laugh and his mother swatted at him, pretending she was going to smack him. Gracie was leaning against him, his arm around her waist.
“Do we have to go in and face the lions?”
“They're not lions. They're members of the Lion's Club. And the Garden Club. And the Rotary Club. And the Junior League from Canterville. Also the Moose Lodge, the American Legion and I think we even have a few Shriner's running around. We also appear to have roughly half of the parolees from the state prison, so do your best not to piss anyone off.”
“Parolees?” David did a double take.
“Did you invite anyone with a tear drop tattoo?” Miss Loretta asked.
“No.”
“Me neither, but there are about six men who match that description. If I ever find out who mailed out the fake wedding invitations that listed all of the real wedding information, I'm going to gut that person with a rusty butter knife and hang their head on my wall.” She finished the last bite of her sandwich and then rubbed her hands together, the diamonds and rubies that adorned her rings glistened brightly in the sunlight.
Gracie couldn't help noticing that her brother grimaced, but she didn't want to ask him if he'd actually learned anything about the person sabotaging her wedding since they'd discovered the problem with the dresses last night. Addison had more than done his big brotherly job when he'd convinced their dad to attend her wedding. It wouldn't be fair to ask anymore from him.
“On that note, maybe we had better head into the wedding before Miss Loretta decides to murder us all in our sleep,” David said.
“If I were going to murder you in your sleep, son, I would have done it years ago.” Miss Loretta held her arm out so that David could escort her back into reception hall. Or maybe so that she could prevent him from bolting out of the parking lot while her back was turned. Gracie was never quite sure of Miss Loretta's motives, but the older woman definitely knew them all just a little too well. “Time to go, kids. Everybody is waiting on us.”
Chapter 54
Sully's wet clothes had gradually dried as he trudged through the unfriendly terrain. He'd been walking for what he estimated had to have been at least four hours when he finally rounded a corner in the trail and saw a black all-wheel-drive Subaru sitting dead in the center of the trail with its crumpled hood pushed up. The driver's side door of the car was open, but Sully didn't see anyone.
“Ha ha, I've got your ass now,” he whispered to himself as he ducked into the actual woods. Just because he couldn't see the car's driver didn't mean the car's driver wasn't somewhere nearby. It wouldn't do to have the bad guy spot him walking up.
Years of hunting and police training kicked in. Sully crouched low to the ground and crept through the scrub brush and small trees along the side of the trail. He did his best to make as little noise as possible. The brush was incredibly dry due to the recent lack of rain.
He flinched as a branch broke under his left knee. He froze, waiting to see if the driver of the Subaru appeared. Nothing moved except a few branches on a nearby tree that were being blown by the wind.
Sully sat and watched the car for another fifteen or twenty minutes before he decided that the driver had likely abandoned it when it had overheated. He carefully exited the bushes, staying low against the ground as he approached the passenger's side. He cautiously peered through the windows, confirming once and for all that he was alone before he opened the passenger's side door and began digging through his suspect's car.
In a perfect world, the man who had run Sully's Jeep off the road would have left his driver's license, social security card, cell phone and a signed confession sitting in the seat. Sadly, most criminals were somewhat smarter than Wiley E. Coyote and the suspect had taken his essential personal belongings with him when he'd abandoned the car. The registration in the glove box said the car belonged to a Christine Lewis who lived on Aardvark Avenue in Silver City. The photocopy of her driver's license that was stapled to the registration and insurance card in the glove box said that she was 87 years old. Sully had a sneaking suspicion that the car was probably stolen. Either that or Mrs. Lewis was about to find out that her grandchild was a thug.
Sully leaned his head back against the headrest for a brief moment. He was utterly exhausted and finding the car might have put him one step closer to figuring out who had murdered Beverly Jones, but it hadn't done him much good in terms of remedying his more immediate problem. He was almost certain that the person who had been driving the car had driven it until it had overheated and blew the motor. Suspects who were trying to escape undetected from crime scenes weren't known for taking excellent care of their vehicles while fleeing.
With a sigh, Sully forced himself back out of the car. His legs ached, but Kerry was depending on him.
Or dead by now.
He didn't want to think too long about that second option. Sully had never accepted failure too gracefully. His leg muscles were burning and his blisters had blisters as he began to walk away from the car. Twenty feet past the vehicle, he noticed a single set of footprints in the dirt that were also heading back out towards the road.
Sully had found his suspect's trail.
Chapter 55
“Still looking for Ian?”
Katie turned around to see Makinsley standing behind her with a smirk on her thick lips. “Actually, yes. Have you seen him?”
Mak's smirk grew into a cold smile. “As a matter of fact, I have.” She reached out and took hold of Katie's upper arm. “Come on. I'll take you to him.”
Katie allowed Makinsley to tow her through the packed crowd that surrounded the dance floor. Gracie and Cal were halfway through their very first dance as a married couple. Katie had wanted to watch it, but she'd so far been completely unsuccessful at tracking down her husband. Maggie McIntyre, Ian's mother, had assured her that she'd seen him at the wedding and he was somewhere in the building, but with a crowd of seven hundred people packing the reception hall, finding him had proven to be quite the challenge.
Makinsley's turquoise dress shimmered in the lights as she weaved her way through the crowd on impossibly tall heels, leaving Katie to stumble and trip along behind her. Katie was surprised when Mak pushed open the wide french doors that lead to the back porch of the building.
She pointed to bench that was positioned next a large azalea bush. The couple who were occupying the bench appeared to be making out quite passionately with one another. “There's
your husband, Katie.”
Katie froze. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she felt physically sick as she recognized Ian's coppery hair and the green striped button down dress shirt she'd bought for him last Christmas. “No,” she whispered.
“He's been sucking face with April Lynne Hale for most of the reception.” Mak was grinning now. “Just thought you should see him for yourself.”
“Why?” Katie felt like she'd been punched.
“Why did I want you to see your husband cheating on you?”
That hadn't at all been what Katie was asking, but she was stunned by the cruel pleasure she saw on Makinsley's face.
“You wanted me to see Ian making out with April Lynne?” Katie was completely horrified.
“I wanted you to see how ugly and pathetic you really are,” Mak said. “Maybe now that you realize you can't even keep your own husband, you'll stop chasing after Addison like a bitch in heat.”
Katie had thought she couldn't be hurt any worse, but she was wrong. Makinsley's words cut like knives.
“Don't even give me that look. Everyone can see right through you and your cheesy romance novels where all the heroes look exactly like Addison. You can't really think he'd ever go for a girl like you. Addison only talks to you because he feels sorry for you. He doesn't even like you as a friend, let alone have any real feelings for you. Why should he? There's nothing special about you. Hell, its looking like the only reason Ian's stayed with you for all these years was because you knew he'd killed that little girl and he was afraid you wouldn't keep his secret if he left you. Now that everyone knows the truth, why bother staying with boring little Katie?” Mak touched Katie lightly on the chin. “Compare yourself to me. I've got boobs, you don't. I've got a booty, you don't. I've got great legs. You've got chicken legs and knobby knees.”
“At least I don't have your cankles.” The entire world had gone numb around Katie and she felt like her heart was shattering, but that didn't mean she was going to stand here like an idiot and let Makinsley abuse her.
Mak let out a snarl and her smile faded. Katie pulled back away from the other girl and straightened her shoulders. “You've made your point, Makinsley. I'm ugly and pathetic. Like I haven't heard either of those insults before?” Katie knew her lip was quivering, but she was not about to break down in front of Mak. She might be a pathetic loser, but she wasn't that pathetic.
“Hey Katie, there you are. Everyone's looking for you.” A male figure in a dark suit made his way out of the crowd beside them. Katie's eyes were too full of tears to see him clearly, but she recognized David's voice well enough. “It's time for all of us in the bridal party to dance-.” David stopped himself mid-sentence when he saw Katie's expression. “What's wrong?”
“Katie's a little upset,” Mak gloated. Her smile came back in full force as she looked up at David. “She was looking for Ian. She found him in the garden. He's right over there.” Makinsley pointed to the bench. April Lynne and Ian were still going hot and heavy. He appeared to have his hand up her dress.
“What. The. Fuck?” David stared at Ian and April Lynne for roughly two seconds as his brain processed what he was seeing. “Oh hell no,” he said and stormed down the stairs, heading straight for the scandalous couple.
“Well darn, I guess David's going to ruin our show.” Mak pouted at David's backside as they watched him stride across the grass and physically yank Ian backwards off the bench, forcefully separating him from April Lynne. “I never have liked Breedlove much.”
Katie didn't speak as she watched Ian spin around and try to swing on his cousin. He had lipstick smeared all over his face and his shirt was unbuttoned. David swatted him back down to the ground easily with an openhanded shove.
April Lynne stood up and shoved herself in between Ian and David. She knew he'd never hit a woman, not even one who punched like a man. She was screaming in David's face now. Katie didn't need to hear all of the words to get the gist. The rest of the people on the balcony were starting to notice the commotion. Mostly thanks to April Lynne's high pitched squeal of a voice.
Suddenly Katie couldn't stand being subjected to Makinsley's smug smile for one more second. Her stomach lurched and she turned away from the disaster that was about to take place. Katie bolted through the crowd. David didn't need her to handle Ian. He was just fine at dealing with disasters all by himself.
Chapter 56
The footprints had gone left when the trail forked less than half a mile from the main road. Sully was almost completely certain that his attacker had meant to go right at the fork. There was nothing down the trail to the left except a particularly nasty bit of mosquito, snake and alligator infested swampland known to the locals as Black Lung Bayou. It wasn't a popular fishing or swimming destination for most locals, but occasionally some tourist who wanted the local fishing experience would wander down into Black Lung Bayou and get hopelessly lost or, even worse, stranded. Tate had roped Sully into helping him run a search party through Black Lung Bayou during his second week in town. They'd found the missing fisherman's capsized boat after three days. They had yet to find the fisherman. He was probably deep in the bellies of a half a dozen alligators.
Staring at those footprints, Sully knew he had to make a choice. He could be at the main road in twenty minutes if he stayed his course and took the right fork of the trail, but he might lose his best chance at catching the person who was responsible for this entire mess.
On the flip side, following a criminal into Black Lung Bayou was probably stupid, considering the only weapon Sully had was a gun that might or might not fire. The knife he usually carried in his pocket had gotten lost somewhere in between when the Jeep had rolled and when Sully had finally managed to get himself out of the creek and back on dry land.
Sully peered down the heavily wooded trail. He didn't see any sign of the driver of the Subaru, but that didn't mean he wasn't close by. The trail disintegrated into pure swampland less than a quarter of a mile from where he was standing. Anyone with a half a lick of sense would make it down to the edge of the swamp, realize they had taken a wrong turn and come back.
So far, the footprints only led down the trail. A returning set hadn't been created yet.
Did Sully really want to risk heading down the correct trail with the very real possibility that man he was hunting would wind up behind him on the trail, tracking his footprints back to civilization?
No. Definitely not. He didn't feel like being shot in the back today. Not that he knew for sure that the man he was pursuing had a gun, but when in doubt, Sully had learned to always assume the perp has a gun.
Despite his exhaustion, Sully felt a small burst of adrenaline begin to flow through his veins as he headed down the same trail his suspect had taken.
The first hundred yards of the trail were completely empty of anything other than dirt and weeds. The second hundred yards were the same as the first. Sully stuck close to the brush so that he could duck into hiding the moment he caught sight of the man he was searching for. He felt a familiar sense of impatience as he followed the footprints down the trail, around three corners and through small, marshy washout that bled down into the creek. Sully was almost to the swamp itself when he saw the brown-haired man crouched down on his knees next to the waterline, drinking marshy water out of his cupped hands.
Idiot, Sully thought. Swamp water was not known for its cleanliness. He didn't even want to think about the amount of bacteria his suspect was guzzling down. A few yards out into the water, Sully could see a large log-like object that he suspected was actually an alligator.
The man never looked up as Sully approached him from his left. Even at a distance of thirty feet, Sully could see that his suspect hadn't come prepared for this little field trip. He was wearing a visibly sweaty short sleeved button down shirt with a hideously ugly tropical print and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. His tanned legs made him look like he probably spent most of his time laying around poolside or on a golf course. His
flat-soled Converse sneakers had been an incredibly poor choice of footwear for the swamp. His bare legs had been cut up pretty well by the brush and thorns on the trail.
He was breathing loudly enough that Sully didn't really have to worry about being heard as he closed the distance between them. He pulled his gun out of his waistband and held it
“Callahan County Sheriff's Department,” Sully called out when he was ten feet away. “Put your hands on top of your head. You're under arrest.”
The brown-haired man jumped into the air, tried to spin around to face Sully and tripped on the root of a nearby tree. He fell backwards into the water with a splash. When his hands came back up to the surface, he was holding a 9mm handgun.
“You don't want to try me.” Sully intentionally kept his voice calm, friendly and conversational. “I'm not having a good day.”
“I'll shoot you. Don't think I won't.” The man's hands were shaking as he pointed the gun at Sully.
“You may shoot at me, but I have some pretty serious doubts about your aim. Do me a favor and put the gun down before you hurt someone. You're shaking pretty badly there, dude.” Sully took a deep breath and focused on where his own gun was pointing, carefully taking aim on the man who he was pretty sure had murdered Beverly Jones and put Meg in the hospital. “I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”
“I'll kill you,” the man said.
“Wrong answer.” Sully pulled the trigger. He was pleased when the gun fired, the bullet flying straight through the air and plunging into the meat of the the brown-haired man's right bicep.
The brown-haired man let out a blood curdling scream and dropped his own gun into the swamp.
“That's what I thought,” Sully said. He lowered his gun but didn't put it away as he advanced on the man. “Are you ready to come quietly now?”
The man started scrambling backwards into the marshy wetlands, going deeper and deeper into the murky water with every lurching, stumbling step.