Jack Loves Callie Tender (A Southern Cousins Mystery prequel, companion guide and cookbook)

by Webb, Peggy

  Anyhow, I went flying through the church, still trying not to sweat on my dress. Charlie was in the deception hall. And of all things, so were the groom and the bridesmaid.

  “Lord help us, Jack. What are you doing back here?”

  “Somebody stole the wedding cake.” Lovie said, and she was madder than hops.

  “Has anybody called the Highway Control? Somebody stole my hearse.”

  Jack and Charlie began asking me so many questions I couldn’t keep it all straight. Now, I didn’t know that much about the groom, but seeing him in action trying to catch a pretty thief – or, I don’t know, maybe stealing a car is a grand lark – I’d have to say that Jack Jones is the man you want on your side. Callie was one lucky woman.

  They most particularly questioned me about that primped up looking blond showing too much cleavage, and a tough looking guy with a big mold on his chin. Finally, Charlie took me by the arm and led me out of the deception room where Lovie and Jack were in a huddle.

  “Fayrene, my dear, all this will be our little secret.”

  “That’s fine with me, Charlie.” What Jartvetis doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

  “We don’t want to spoil Callie’s wedding day.”

  “Of course not. Or Ruby Nell’s either. She’s waited thirty years to see her daughter married.”

  “Exactly,” Charlie said. “Now, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll have your car back before the wedding. And the cake, too.”

  I didn’t know how Charlie was going to do all that, but he’s another man you can trust. Just being around him makes me feel confidential.

  After making a zipping sign across my lips to show that I’m no snatch, I made my way back to the bridal dressing room. By the time I got there, Jarvetis was standing outside the door with my sewing kit.

  “Thank you, hon.” I was so calm you’d think I had years of experience on Broadway.

  People were pouring into the church. Nobody wanted to miss the biggest event in Mooreville since Jarvetis and I brought the disco ball dance trophy home from Memphis. I was worried I might not get a front row seat.

  “Just go on up front and get yourself a good seat, Jarvetis. I’ll be there in a minute. But first I’ve got to fix a damsel in the dress.”

  o0o

  Fayrene proved herself a true friend that day, heading straight into the bridal dressing room where Ruby Nell was about to fall to pieces over Callie’s too-big dress, and not uttering a word about the missing wedding cake or her missing hearse.

  Callie was not far behind Ruby Nell in the Lord-help-us department. With Lovie still missing, she had nobody else to depend on. Don’t get me wrong. Callie loves her mama, but Ruby Nell thrives on drama, particularly when she’s at the center of it.

  If I had been there, I would have had the situation under control. I understand my human mom better than anybody in the world, even Jack. I know exactly how to lend a floppy ear when she needs to talk.

  And of course, I’d have been right in the middle of catching the cake thief. But as they say, out of sight, out of mind. – a catchy little title I spun into a gold record in my other life when I could go into the kitchen at Graceland any time of the day or night and get a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich.

  Speaking of good eating, as my human mom and I continue our journey toward home, my stomach rumbles. It’s that time of day for a substantial snack. Forget the large-sized milk bone. I’m talking ham bone buried in the back yard.

  Or if I get lucky, Jack will be having some cheese and crackers. My human dad is always willing to share with a loyal, intelligent dog. That would be yours truly. Forget that silly cocker spaniel Callie rescued. He is beyond dumb. Even if I wanted to, which I totally do not, I couldn’t teach him the art of conning real food out of our humans. He’s too lazy. All he wants to do is sneak off and steal a nap on my personal pillow while I’m gone.

  Watch out, silly spaniel. The King is coming. And I’m not talking religion.

  Chapter Seven

  As Callie and I drive past Wildwood Baptist Church where she married Jack, I drag my mind back from revenge and onto the wedding cake theft.

  With Jack and Charlie both on the job, both of them Company men trained to match wits with international criminals, they didn’t waste time chasing false leads.

  They had already started the investigation before they called in Lovie, and well before Fayrene appeared on the scene with her bad news.

  In Jack’s own words, here’s how the investigation started.

  o0o

  Jack

  When one of Lovie’s staff discovered the cake missing, she hunted down Charlie with the news, and he immediately came to me.

  Finding a lost wedding cake wasn’t the way I’d imagined spending my last free moments as a bachelor. If it had been left up to me, there wouldn’t have been any wedding cake. Nor this extravagant church ceremony, either. We could have saved time with a trip to the JP. Quick and simple.

  But Cal wanted a big wedding, and I wanted Cal so I was willing to do almost anything to please her. That included getting into a tuxedo which I considered ostentatious and setting aside my dislike of big social events. Get a bunch of people with multiple agendas in the same room, and it’s bound to turn out bad.

  When Charlie told me about the missing cake, I opted for the simple solution.

  “Send somebody over to Tupelo to get another one. They can be back in plenty of time for the reception.”

  “They won’t find another pink wedding cake, and besides, Lovie and Callie wouldn’t stand for a substitute. I know the girls.”

  “Charlie, are you telling me my bride is stubborn?”

  “Valentines are born stubborn.”

  I’d already figured that out, but it was good to hear Charlie confirm it. I was glad to find out I’d met my match. Nobody but a strong-willed woman could put up with me. And then it would be dicey.

  “Let’s get this over with, then,” I said. “Stealing a cake sounds like an inside job. And something a woman would do. Is there anybody on Lovie’s staff who would want to sabotage the reception?”

  “No. She’s used the same staff for years, and they’re all loyal to her.”

  “That leaves Laura Swenson and Sally Kirk. And they’re both here. You take Sally and I’ll take Laura.”

  “Done. Meet you back here in five minutes.”

  That’s what I like about Charlie. He doesn’t waste time grand-standing. In his day, Charlie Valentine was the most fearless operative The Company had. He’s a legend. But instead of making me go over the reasons fellow undercover agent, Sally Kirk, might want to sabotage my wedding by stealing the cake, or Laura Swenson might have gotten it into her head that the groom goes with the cake, he set out toward the chapel without another word.

  I had no doubt he’d recognize Sally. Charlie still keeps close enough tabs on The Company to know all the agents.

  I set out toward the women’s bathroom.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Charlie ease into the chapel, down the side aisle and into the pew beside Sally. She’s arrived early enough to get an up close and personal view of my vows. Watching them leave, the ordinary viewer would never know that Charlie had a vice grip on her arm, and she wasn’t happy to see him.

  It wasn’t that easy for me. Laura was holed up in the toilet.

  I’d seen her scuttle that way when she spotted Charlie and me coming out of my dressing room. She’d had the look of a woman up to no good and not about to chance getting caught.

  Three little old ladies had formed a line outside the ladies’ room. It took some fancy footwork and fast lying to convince them that the groom had pressing business in the women’s restroom with somebody other than the bride.

  “It’s my cousin,” I told them. “She’s in there crying her heart out because Aunt Josephine couldn’t come.”

  All of the women immediately shooed me to the front of the line. One of them, a sweet-faced little grandmotherly
type, even offered to go inside with me.

  “Poor little thing. Maybe I can help.”

  “Thank you, ma’am, but she’d be mortified to know I had told strangers she was crying.”

  I hate lying to little old ladies. But lying was second nature to me. An undercover agent who doesn’t blend in becomes a target.

  I turned my back on the dressed-up seniors so they wouldn’t see me picking the bathroom lock.

  Laura opened her mouth to scream when she saw me, but I had a hand over her mouth before she could let out more than a squeak.

  I’m not proud of what happened next. I told the suspect I’d break both her arms if she screamed and the rest of her body parts if she knew anything about the stolen wedding cake and didn’t come clean. It worked to my advantage that I look like a guy who would make good his word.

  When I took my hand away, she said, “Can you blame a girl for wanting one last look at the hunk who got away?”

  I almost believed her. But there was something about her accent that set off alarm bells. I tucked it into the back of my mind for another day. A man, even one in my position, ought to take a break on his wedding day.

  “Are you hiding something about the missing cake?”

  “No. Where would I hide a wedding cake?”

  Years of knowing truth from lies came in handy. I believed her.

  “Shall I show you, Jack?” When she reached for the buttons on her blouse, that was my exit cue.

  “Save it for somebody who cares, Laura. And I give you fair warning, stay away from me and my wife.” In a loud voice I added, “There’s no need to cry. My bride and I will stop by to see Aunt Josephine on the way to Memphis.”

  I was out of the bathroom in less than two minutes. The three little old ladies jumped back, guilty as sin. I knew they’d had their hard-of-hearing ears pressed up to the door. The grandmother confirmed it when she patted my hand and said, “That’s so sweet of you. Interrupting your honeymoon for your aunt.”

  My honeymoon destination would be all over the church before I got back to the dressing room, but I didn’t care. I made no secret of the fact that Beale Street blues and a bridal suite at the Peabody with Cal was about as good as it gets.

  Charlie was waiting for me.

  “What’d you find out?” I asked him.

  “The only thing Sally’s guilty of is trying to find something to make you look bad to The Company.”

  “She won’t find it here. I guess I need to persuade her of that.”

  “I already did, Jack. What did you find out?”

  “Laura didn’t steal the cake, either. Which leaves me fresh out of suspects.”

  “I have an idea. Meet me in the reception hall.”

  It was now only twenty minutes before my wedding, but I’ve trusted Charlie with my life. I had every confidence he could handle a missing wedding cake.

  I scooted off to the hall and waited.

  o0o

  Jack didn’t know it at the time, but he was waiting for Charlie to come back with Lovie. Not that she is a sleuth. But since they had already eliminated suspects whose motives might have been connected to Jack, it seemed logical to find out if anybody connected to Callie might want to sabotage her wedding.

  And Lovie would be the one to know. Those two have told each other every secret (well, almost) since they were children growing up on the farm together. If anybody could come up with another list of suspects, it was Lovie.

  Nothing beats hearing what happened next from Lovie’s own mouth. Here’s the way she told it to yours truly.

  o0o

  Lovie

  After I got over my conniption fit that the wedding cake was gone, I settled down enough to hear what Daddy and Jack were saying.

  “We’ve followed a couple of leads that didn’t pan out,” Daddy said. “I need you to tell us who might have a grudge against Callie.”

  “Everybody loves Callie.”

  I could tell Jack was pleased by that remark. I guess if you’re a groom who has only known the bride a few weeks, everything positive you hear makes you feel relieved.

  “Think, dear heart. Somebody took the wedding cake, and we don’t have much time left to find the culprit.”

  “When I do, I’m going to kick some serious butt. I slaved over that cake.”

  “Lovie, could it have been someone who wants to sabotage you?”

  I racked my brain, but it’s hard to think under pressure. Though I like to think of myself as so charming nobody in his right mind would want to do anything spiteful to me, I have enough common sense to know that everybody has enemies.

  I was still trying to figure out which one of mine would stoop to stealing a wedding cake when Fayrene burst in with news about her stolen hearse.

  After Daddy and Jack had calmed her down and sent her back to the bridal dressing room, I said, “Who in his right mind would want to steal that old green hearse?” If I hadn’t been in the church I’d have said a word that would permanently curl hair. In deference to the place and the occasion, I moderated my language. “For Pete’s sake, Aunt Ruby Nell’s Mustang convertible is sitting on the parking lot! Not to mention the mayor’s Mercedes and Jack’s silver Jag.”

  “Good point, Lovie,” Jack said.

  I already liked him, but everything Jack Jones said and did that day raised him a notch in my estimation. My prediction was that he would be a fine fit in the Valentine family.

  “I think these two thefts are connected,” Daddy said.

  I let slip a word I shouldn’t have in front of Jack and Daddy. Not to mention that I was in the house of the Lord.

  “Daddy, who in his right mind would steal a hearse and a wedding cake?”

  “Somebody not in his right mind, dear heart.” Daddy’s a saint. Ignoring my cussing fit and calling me by his unique endearment at the same time. “I believe it’s connected to you or Callie. And you’re the only one who can tell us.”

  I did what I always do under pressure: eat. I was in the perfect place, and I knew everything in this room was delicious. I was the one who’d made it.

  I downed four petit fours and six cheese straws, then started to work on the mixed nuts and pink heart shaped mints. My staff was lined up in the door to the kitchen watching me as if were a starving hobo turned loose in the banquet hall.

  Let them stare. If it was left up to me to solve the mystery of the missing wedding cake, I intended to be well fortified. I don’t know about you, but my brain cells don’t function without plenty of fat and sugar.

  o0o

  In case you think my human daddy and Charlie were just standing around waiting for Lovie to unravel the mystery and save the day, you’ve got another think coming, as Ruby Nell would say.

  While Lovie grazed from table to table, Charlie and Jack were questioning the staff about what they’d seen and heard.

  A wedding cake and a green hearse didn’t vanish in the biggest social event Mooreville had seen in years without somebody seeing something. He might not pay much attention at the time, but on reflection, he can recall details that prove significant.

  Chapter Eight

  As it turns out it was one of Lovie’s staff, the head waiter, Jon, who remembered the detail that broke the case wide open.

  Here’s the way Jack remembers it.

  o0o

  Jack

  At the rate Lovie was going, I didn’t’ know if there’d be any food left for the reception. I had mixed feelings about that. Cal might be disappointed but without the lure of food, the guests would leave earlier and I could get on with my honeymoon.

  Selfish of me, I know. But a groom running out of vacation time needs to make the best of it.

  I was standing by the champagne fountain questioning a petite brunette named Charlene. She said her job was making sure the guests kept their glasses refilled and collecting the empties. It was obvious she hadn’t seen a thing that would help us.

  With the clock ticking and the organist warming up, I wa
s beginning to think we might as call the search off and resign ourselves to a reception without a wedding cake, when Charlie called out, “Jack. Lovie. You need to hear this.”

  He was talking to a florid-faced, middle-aged man with a bald head. Head waiter, the best I could tell from his suit and the gold name tag he was wearing.

  I headed in his direction, and so did Lovie. I noticed she paused by the meats table to snatch up roast beef on a bun.

  When we got to Charlie, he said, “Jon, tell them what you told me.”

  “I didn’t think anything was amiss at the time, but I did think it was odd.”

  I wanted to shake the man and yell. “Skip the preamble and cut to the chase.” But this wasn’t the Middle East, and world peace was not at stake, so I restrained myself.

  I couldn’t say the same for Lovie. “About what, Jon? We don’t have all day.”

  “I remember…the cake was still on the table when that Chef who rides a motorcycle – what’s his name – showed up.”

  “Cleat Clemson! That wart on a frog’s butt!”

  This sounded promising. “A rival, Lovie?’

  “I took the best of show last week in the Delta with my chocolate cherry cake, and Cleat Clemson has wanted me drawn and quartered ever since.”

  “Did he say anything concrete to back that up, dear heart?”

  “He accused me of using Betty Crocker cake mix, which was a bald-faced lie. Then he said he’d make sure I ‘got what was coming to me.’ His exact words.”

  “I think Lovie’s onto something, Charlie. Sabotaging a tea party of the church ladies’ sewing circle wouldn’t do that, but a society wedding would.”

  Lovie was nodding her head in agreement. “And…I think he’s been tailing you and Callie.”

  “The big guy with the mole on his chin.” I mentally kick myself for not following up on our stalker.

  “That’s him,” Lovie said.

  I bolted toward the outside door, calling over my shoulder, ““Be right back.”

  While Lovie was describing Cleat Clemson to Charlie, I raced into the parking lot. It didn’t take me long to find the Gold Wing bike. It stuck out among the Fords and Chevies as much as my silver Jag.