New Year's Wedding

by Muriel Jensen

* * *

  GRADY DAWDLED OVER his selection at the bakery. Buying doughnuts and Danish for breakfast had seemed like a good idea when he’d woken up hungry and feeling remarkably mellow. The bakery wasn’t open yet, but would be, despite the holiday. Nothing stopped the production and consumption of food in Beggar’s Bay.

  Finally finding himself with time to wander through the future offices of Bayside Detectives, he let himself into the back of the building and climbed the stairs to the second floor. He felt a sense of excitement as he walked slowly from room to room, imagining the phone ringing, Ben talking with a client, his mother’s ugly armoire filled with all the things Cassie thought it should contain. He made a list of furniture to look for, supplies they would need, and drew a rough plan of the few rooms.

  Eventually he heard activity upstairs in the restaurant, the subtle aromas of breakfast preparation. It made him hungry. He closed the office, ran down the stairs and headed for the bakery.

  A cherry fritter for him was an automatic decision, but he wasn’t sure what Cassie or Donald would prefer. His solution was a carefully chosen half dozen assortment. He carried the bag out to the car, munching on one of the cherry fritters, then went to the gas station, the only one he knew of that still washed your windows and checked your oil with a fill-up.

  He headed home, marveling at the beautiful morning. Turning up Black Bear Ridge Road, he saw the play of sunlight through the bare deciduous trees and making conical shapes in emerald out of the Douglas fir that lined the last few yards—

  He braked suddenly at the sight of black smoke billowing out of his house. He held on to the steering wheel and leaned forward, unable to believe what he was seeing. Then a side window blew out and fire leaped through the opening.

  “Oh, God!” he said as he floored the gas and turned into his driveway. As he bounded out of the truck, Donald in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, his face blackened from smoke, threw himself toward the house.

  “Don!” Grady shouted to stop him. “What happened? Where’s Cassie?”

  Don caught his forearms as he ran toward him. “Thank God you’re okay. She shoved me out and went back in.”

  “Stay here. I’ll get her.”

  “No, I want to go.” He held Grady’s arms and shook him. “She has claus—”

  Grady handed him his phone. “I know. Call 9-1-1. I’ll bring her out. I know the house, so I’ll be faster.” Without waiting for agreement, Grady rushed inside, through the corridor to the great room—and stopped for a second, shocked by how bad the fire was. Smoke billowed and rolled, and he couldn’t see much of anything except a significant point of flame. He guessed it was the table under the loft.

  He couldn’t imagine how Cassie was functioning in this little piece of hell. Not only was it hot and hard to breathe, but the darkness caused by the smoke was pervasive—and claustrophobic. She must be terrified. He needed to save her.

  “Cassie!” he shouted, covering his mouth as he ran into the room. “Cassie? Where are you?”

  Hearing no sound but the crackling flames, he advanced to the stairs and collided with her before he saw her. She was headed toward the kitchen. Her face and her bare arms and shoulders were black with smoke. She coughed and fell against the newel.

  “Cassie!” He framed her face in his hands just in time to hear her raspy voice say, “Grady,” and to see her eyes close as she began to collapse. He swept her up against him, remembering that this was the way they’d met. He took a moment to get his bearings, then turned sideways and headed for the door, now open and admitting firefighters on the run. He sheltered her with his face against hers as he ran against the traffic.

  * * *

  CASSIE, GRADY AND DONALD sat on the rear bumper of the fire truck, wrapped in blankets a firefighter had given them.

  Cassie had regained consciousness the minute she’d hit the early morning air and now sat silently, an arm around Grady’s waist, as they all stared at the frantic activity in and around the house. The fire was out, the fire chief had told them, and the smoke was dissipating. She’d half expected to see the roof ablaze, but the flames hadn’t broken through.

  “I wonder what happened,” Cassie asked in a small voice.

  “I have no idea.” Grady sat with a hand on her knee, filled with gratitude that she was unharmed. He felt sick. He’d never been one to need fancy clothes or a mansion, but he’d loved this house from the moment he’d seen it, driving up this road with Ben, answering a call about a missing dog. It represented everything he believed in—solid, unpretentious, a place in which to live a quiet, steady life.

  He’d been sure he’d never be able to afford it, but the owner had moved away the year before and had been paying two mortgages ever since. He’d been anxious to get out from under this one and was selling at an absurdly low price.

  Grady loved being a bachelor in this house. He’d filled the place with furniture he’d saved for, gifts from friends, folk art finds from his collector mother. He wondered with black humor if he’d be lucky enough that the blue armoire was a loss.

  His poker games around the kitchen table had been fun. He realized, of course, that that was due to the men who came to play rather than the house in which they played.

  Ben’s wedding! Thoughts of his poker buddies reminded him that today was Ben and Corie’s wedding. And his house was the venue.

  He turned to Cassie and saw the pale sadness on her face.

  * * *

  A HIGH, SHRILL scream was going on in Cassie’s brain. She held the blanket tightly around her, felt Grady’s arm encircle her shoulders and her father take her hand, but she couldn’t stop staring at the broken windows and the fire hoses inside. A chill the blanket and the love of her favorite men couldn’t chase away set up residence in the pit of her stomach.

  She’d wanted so much for her sister to have the world’s most wonderful wedding, and now most of what she’d gathered to make it spectacular, and the gorgeous home itself, had burned. What could Grady do now? And what could she do to save the wedding? And him?

  Half-developed thoughts bounced around in her head, trying to find a solution worth pursuing, but kept bouncing back unfinished. She couldn’t think. Ben and Corie would be so disappointed!

  “Do you think your friend made a bad electrical connection for the hanging chandelier?” Donald asked, leaning around Cassie to see Grady.

  Grady shrugged under the blanket. “It’s possible, but he’s done other work here before that’s been perfectly reliable. The table we were going to use for the wedding cake was fully engulfed, though. I can’t imagine why. I mean, something would have had to set it on fire. The chandelier had fallen to the floor, so maybe that had something to do with it.”

  Cassie leaned into Grady as the early morning gave way to a beautiful, clear day, completely at odds with the destruction of Grady’s home. “Grady, I’m so sorry,” she said on a cough. “I feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn’t suggested having the wedding here, this might not have happened.”

  “We don’t know that.” He squeezed her closer. “Maybe you don’t even want to think about this now, but do you have any ideas about the wedding? I mean, it’s New Year’s Day. And I don’t think anyone else has a house big enough.”

  Ben and Corie appeared in the chaos in jeans and parkas, picking their way over hoses as the firefighters in the background walked in and out of the house, water everywhere.

  “Grady,” Ben said as Corie wrapped her arms around Cassie. “I was up early, listening to the scanner. What happened?”

  “Not sure,” Grady replied, standing to accept Ben’s comforting hug. “Place was on fire when Cassie woke up. I had gone to the bakery for doughnuts.” Then with an expression of disbelief and censure, “You were listening to the scanner on the morning of your wedding?”

  “You know how it is. Alwa
ys a cop.” Ben’s gaze ran over the three of them. “Thank God you’re all okay.” He turned to look at the house. “The roof seems to be intact.”

  “Yeah, the fire was contained, and they seem to be doing a good job of putting it out. When I got here and found smoke pouring out, Donald came to tell me Cassie had pushed him out the door and run back in. I went in after her.”

  Cassie absorbed their exchange while listening to her sister tell her she was so grateful she hadn’t been hurt, then hugging her fiercely in punctuation. When she drew away, her eyes were clear and warm. “I don’t want you to worry about the wedding. We can always do it in Father Eisley’s rectory.”

  “Fifty people won’t fit in there.”

  “I know. But we’ll get married there, then if we explain about what’s happened, I’m sure everyone will understand if we cancel the reception. We can send food to the homeless shelter.”

  Then Cassie had a sudden, completely unexpected, inspiration. It made her smile. Corie looked just a little worried. “What?” she asked.

  Cassie turned to Grady. Sensing her excitement, both men stopped talking and turned to her.

  Grady smiled ruefully. “Run for cover. I know this look. What?”

  “What if we have the ceremony and the reception on the back lawn?”

  Grady took the question calmly then asked with measured reason, “In the dark? In forty-degree weather?”

  “Why not? Power’s out, but we have the standing chandeliers for light...” Her smile battled with a quick frown. “Provided they survived the fire. If they didn’t, there’s always candlelight and your lanterns.” The smile won then wavered briefly again. “How will we keep the food cold?”

  Ben grinned. “My dad has a generator. I’m sure he’d be happy to bring it over.”

  Cassie smiled anew. “Great! We can set the tables and chairs outside, we’ll all wear our coats, and it’ll be great. Something to tell the grandchildren. The New Year’s Day wedding, outside and at dusk, with chandeliers and the best food anyone ever tasted, thanks to Grady’s mom and Helen.”

  “I like it!” Corie said on a laugh. “Ben, what do you think?”

  Ben caught Corie’s hand. “As long as we get married with our family and friends here, and I know we’re looking at a lifetime together, I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Yes!” Corie punched the air. “I’m going to cancel our hair appointments and we can use that time to split the invitation list and call everyone.”

  Cassie frowned. “No, you go get your hair done. I’ll stay here and—”

  “No. We’ll probably have to wear hats, anyway.”

  “Over your veil? Oh, that’ll be cute.”

  “Yeah, well, you almost had to wear boots to my wedding, so don’t be critical.”

  “Corie.” Cassie caught her hands as she reached into her pocket for her phone. “Are you sure it’s okay? I mean, I promised you elegance and style...”

  “It’ll still be elegant, just outside.” Corie hugged her. “How romantic is that? The New Year’s Day wedding, outside, at dusk, with standing chandeliers and the best food anyone’s ever tasted, just as you said. And my long-lost sister who pulled it all together and even saved it at the last minute. Who could ever want more than that?” She drew her hand away. “I’ll call Helen and ask her to tell Jack and Sarah. We left the kids with her last night so we could get ready with a little peace and quiet. Grady, want me to call your mom?”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind.” He stood as the fire chief approached him. Ben and Grady had often met Bart Daniels at the gym. His ability to bench press three times his weight was a source of jealousy.

  “It’s out, Grady,” the chief said, his protective mask pulled up. “I’m sorry about the water damage, but there’s not a lot we can do about that. I think we saved the sofa, and all the rented materials for Ben’s wedding, but that expensive-looking rug is a loss, as well as the table, and you might have to replace some balusters in your loft railing. Otherwise, except for smoke damage, it’s not too bad.”

  Grady shook his hand. “Thanks, Bart. I appreciate how quick you were.”

  “Sure. You know our slogan. ‘Send us to hell and we’ll put it out.’” Bart grinned. “And, when the call comes from the residence of a supermodel, no matter how temporarily she’s here, we do our best to come through.”

  Grady clapped his shoulder. “Whatever the reason, I appreciate it.”

  “What are you going to do about Ben’s wedding?”

  “Still happening. Same time. Wear a warm coat.”

  “All right. Come with me. I want to show you something that might give us a clue to what happened.”

  “Of course.” Grady turned to excuse himself to his companions, but Ben and Don were in conversation and Corie was making phone calls. He started to follow Bart.

  “I’d like to come,” Cassie said, holding tightly to her blanket.

  “Sure.” Grady put an arm around her and brought her along with them. The small table had been pulled outside, several yards from the door. It had been severely burned. The drawer was partially open.

  “I just had a look in here,” Bart said, reaching in with his big gloves to pull out the contents. “Since you said the table was fully engulfed when you ran through, I thought it might tell us something.”

  He opened the palm of his glove to reveal several barely recognizable cylinders and a melted set of keys.

  “I think this is the culprit.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CASSIE’S HEART BEGAN to thud. No. Oh, no, no, no! She still didn’t understand what had happened in that drawer, but she’d been the only one to put anything it. Was she responsible for this? She heard Grady swear under his breath.

  On the chance that it wasn’t her fault, she pointed to the cylindrical things and asked innocently, “What are those?”

  “Batteries,” Bart replied.

  She was going to be sick.

  “A lot of people don’t realize that loose batteries are combustible if the nodes make contact with metal for a prolonged period.” Bart’s thick-gloved index finger pointed out the puddle of metal in his other palm. “My guess is they made contact with these keys. That’s a small, shallow drawer. If the batteries are in their packaging, they’re safe, but when they’re loose...this is what can happen.”

  “I keep an extra set of keys in that drawer,” Grady said, sounding mystified, “but not batteries.”

  Cassie opened her mouth to say the words but they refused to come out. She had to draw a deep breath and wrap her arms tightly around herself, still clutching the blanket, almost physically pushing out the words. “I put them there.”

  Grady turned to her in confusion. “What? Why?” he asked.

  Now that she’d made herself speak, her words tumbled out. “They’re the extras for the standing chandeliers. They really eat up the battery power, so I wanted to be prepared. And I...” Her throat tightened, but she made herself say, “I took them out of the packaging to replace them quickly if I had to. I wanted things to be...perfect.” She put a hand to his arm, folded with the other across his chest. “I’m so sorry, Grady.” Her voice was choked. “I didn’t know that about batteries. I had no idea. And I didn’t know you had anything in there. I’m so, so sorry.”

  He didn’t move his arm but she felt the hard muscle under her fingertips react, as though he’d been touched by something hot—or unpleasant. And something shifted in his eyes. She saw fury ignite in them. He said nothing for a minute, carefully avoiding her gaze, then asked Bart, “Mind if I go inside now? Assess the damage?”

  “Sure. We’ll be here another hour or so, just to make sure there’s nothing else to be concerned about.” He patted Grady’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, man.” He gave Cassie a sympathetic look. “You’re not alone, Mis
s Chapman. We had a man who did something similar in the console in his car. He kept batteries for his kids’ electronic devices in there, and they were up against a DVD. Destroyed his car, his garage and part of the house.”

  Of course, there was little comfort for Cassie in that story, but she smiled thinly at the fire chief, knowing he meant to help.

  She followed Grady into the house, not knowing what to say, but needing him to look at her so she could try again to tell him how sorry she was.

  He turned when he heard her behind him and said quietly but with such suppressed anger in his voice that she stopped in her tracks, “Don’t come with me. There’s...debris everywhere.” He turned his back on her and walked inside.

  * * *

  EVERYTHING HE COULD see was in shambles. Very wet shambles. One arm of the sofa was burned, but the rest didn’t look too bad. The Oriental rug was destroyed, as was the chair his mother used to like to sit in in front of the fireplace, and the small table there. The bunting on the loft railing still hung in tatters, held by the blackened remnants of the blue ribbon. The loft balusters were burned but not destroyed. The bunting on the stairway hadn’t been touched by the fire, but was black with smoke and soaked from the hoses.

  His mind played back Cassie’s delight in that sparkly stuff—he couldn’t remember the name—and wondered what she’d think of how it looked now. He felt vaguely sympathetic for her but couldn’t help coming around to the old truth. If she hadn’t strained so hard for glamour and style, she wouldn’t be disappointed that much of her hard work—and his home—had been destroyed. Who needed battery-operated standing chandeliers? In Beggar’s Bay? On Black Bear Ridge Road?

  His efforts to suppress his anger were making him snarky. He could feel it. Anger was finding its way out in nasty, critical thoughts.

  “Grady.” He turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and looked into Cassie’s sky blue eyes, now tortured and miserable. She folded her arms tightly together and squared her shoulders. She still wore the fire department’s blanket. “You have to tell me what you’re feeling,” she said.