Wedding Cake

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Someone sniffled behind them, probably Gayle.

  Pastor Donald smiled at them and immediately began the ceremony as though this were any other wedding. Sadie listened to the words, nodded when it was appropriate, and squeezed Pete’s hand now and again when a passage of scripture or bit of advice struck her as particularly poignant.

  When Pastor Donald turned to her, she said, “I do.” When he turned to Pete for the same commitment, he gave the equally agreeable response. Sadie’s body was flushed with excitement and confirmation of how right all of this was as the moment of completion drew closer.

  She thought of the Christian pop song “God Bless the Broken Road” and how well it related to the journey she and Pete had made to reach this point. They had had so many difficulties and flat-out perilous circumstances to overcome throughout the years they had been together. Even today things were not exactly as they should be. There had been several coming-togethers and then pulling-aparts between them for a variety of reasons. More than once Sadie had wondered if those things were signs that spending their lives together wasn’t meant to be. And yet they were here, in this moment, together. She could see how their hardships had strengthened them and that realization helped her believe that even this trial would work toward their good somehow.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Sadie caught her breath as Pete stepped toward her and put a hand alongside her face, smiling sweetly at her as he came in for their first official kiss as a married couple. Their lips met with a sweet softness of promise and commitment for all the years they had left to love each other. Sadie felt enveloped in the profound beauty of it for the space of a heartbeat. Two. She heard people begin to applaud, adding their confirmations to the one she felt so deeply in her heart.

  Pete pulled back and smiled even wider. “We did it,” he whispered.

  Sadie nodded and blinked back tears. They turned to face their guests, and Pete reached for her hand as they stepped down from the platform. They would greet their guests while the room was transformed into the luncheon portion of the day. It had happened! It was done! Pete was Sadie’s husband, and she could scarcely wrap her head around it.

  Pastor Donald followed them to the edge of the platform. He held a hand out toward the couple as he looked over the room. “May I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham.”

  The applause increased; guests came to their feet.

  Sadie squeezed the hand of her new husband.

  Pete squeezed the hand of his new wife.

  And then the window behind Pastor Donald exploded.

  Chapter 28

  Pete reacted impossibly fast and pulled Sadie to the floor as a million shards of glass shot toward their backs. Sadie hit the floor hard and was immediately dragged to the side as a roar filled her ears and the room seemed to scream of one accord. Sadie lost seconds and space until she realized Pete had pulled her toward the north side of the room. He let go of her hand long enough to flip one of the round reception tables on its side, creating a kind of foxhole in the corner, then he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her behind the upended table.

  Sadie huddled against the wall, trying to catch her breath and make sense of what had happened. The window exploded? Really?

  Pete crouched behind the tabletop and pulled his gun from the holster at his side. He couldn’t stand completely upright and remain protected, never mind that a round table left much to be desired considering its gaps and spaces.

  “You’re okay,” he said to her as though issuing a command but his words were muted by the ringing in her ears.

  Sadie nodded. She was okay . . . she thought. But what had happened? She could smell something burning, she could hear the muffled sound of tables and chairs crashing and footsteps making an exit. Shawn! She thought. Breanna! Liam and Maggie and Pete’s children! Were they okay?

  Pete peered around the edge of the table, his gun pointing toward the ceiling. Sadie got to her knees and crawled over to inspect the room. Every table around the room had been flipped on its side and pulled close to the wall just as Pete had done. Had that been part of the procedure the police had discussed with the guests while she was getting her hair done? Upended chairs were scattered across the floor along with tablecloths, napkins, flatware, flowers, and broken centerpiece vases. Water from those vases was everywhere while officers dressed as wedding guests rushed out of the room with their service weapons drawn.

  Sadie looked toward the window that had exploded. The sheer drapes were shredded and charred. Something outside the broken window casing was on fire; she could see flickers of bright orange flame amid the black smoke. Thick clouds of smoke were coming inside the building through the broken window—that’s how close whatever had exploded was to the building.

  Movement to the side of the platform drew her attention, and she gasped as Pastor Donald tried to push himself up to a sitting position. He held the back of his head with a hand covered in blood.

  Sadie moved toward him but Pete pulled her back behind the table. “No,” he said while shaking his head. “Stay here.”

  His voice sounded like it was at the far end of a tunnel. “But, Pastor Donald?” she asked. The table blocked her view.

  Pete peered around the table himself, giving Sadie a view of the back of his coat, which was torn and singed and showed blood seeping through in spots. He pulled back behind the table and looked at her. “We can’t go for him now. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

  “You’re hurt too,” she said, pointing toward the back of his coat.

  “I’m fine.” Pete pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his mangled coat, then holstered his weapon for the moment. “I need to check with Malloy.”

  Had Malloy made a plan for such a catastrophic event as this? As Pete made the call, Sadie inspected herself and found that her dress was also torn in places. She could feel stinging in her back and a rather sharp pain below one of her shoulder blades, but the injuries weren’t serious.

  Pastor Donald hadn’t been so lucky, and Sadie had to clasp her hands together to keep from running for him again. He’d volunteered to officiate, and it may have cost him his life. The thought made her throat thick, and her thoughts moved to the other people who may have been injured. Their guests had been an additional ten to fifteen feet from the window, but they’d been facing it. What had happened to them? This was Sadie’s worst nightmare, and she could scarcely stand to think of what she’d done in agreeing to go through with this at all. She clenched her eyes against the accountability she felt glaring at her.

  “Okay,” Pete said into the phone. “Right . . . at least one in need of an ambulance.”

  Sadie knew that allowing the emotional onslaught threatening to descend upon her would be more than she could handle. Pete would tell her this was not her fault and the only way she could remain free of Jane was to put the responsibility where it belonged—on Jane’s heartless shoulders. And he would be right.

  The ringing in her ears dissipated, and Sadie heard voices from outside the window, shouting and giving orders. Was it Malloy? The fire continued to roar, and she heard sirens in the distance. Whatever law enforcement hadn’t already been at the wedding was coming now.

  Pete dropped his phone back into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Car bomb,” he said. “Parked right outside the window. So far the fire hasn’t spread beyond the car, and Malloy’s working on a plan to evacuate the building.” He glanced at the blackening smoke spreading across the ceiling, then looked at Sadie. “They’re searching for Jane, but we need to be on guard. She could be in the building or she could have triggered the explosion remotely. We just don’t know.”

  Sadie nodded to tell him she’d heard what he’d said and understood. She kept to herself how often in the last two days she’d taken comfort in the idea that Jane was gone, only to be reminded that she hadn’t in fact left at all. Had her torched car at the campground last night been a trial run of this?

 
Pete pulled his gun from the holster under his arm again and pressed his back against the underside of the table. He turned his head toward the room.

  “Guests of the Cunningham wedding,” he yelled. Sadie hadn’t realized how many voices she’d heard talking in the room until everyone stopped to listen. “Remain where you are. The explosion we’ve experienced was from a car bomb outside the window. Help is on its way, but I need an accounting of injuries in need of attention.”

  There was a pause as though people were waiting for someone to speak, finally Jared’s voice filled the room. “From those on the south side, we have a possible broken arm, a sprained ankle, and multiple lacerations, nothing critical, however.” Jared was a doctor in his first year of residency; thank goodness he could help those injured. “Are you alright? The angle of the blast seems to have been towards the south.”

  “Minor injuries for Sadie and me,” Pete said. “However, Pastor Donald has been severely injured. He’s on the north side of the stage. Can anyone help him get behind a table? He needs medical attention, Jared.”

  “I can get him,” Shawn yelled.

  “I’ll go with him,” Jared added.

  “Bert Lipton—deputy from Sterling—will cover,” said an unfamiliar voice.

  “Good,” Pete yelled back, then poised to provide additional cover to the rescue. “Proceed on three. One—two—three.”

  There was the sound of quick footsteps, a moan from Pastor Donald, and then more movement.

  “Clear,” the deputy called out about thirty seconds later. Pete returned to his place behind the table

  “He’s not in good shape, Dad,” Jared called out. In a quiet voice not meant to carry as well he said, “Hand me those napkins, Shawn. Help me straighten him up but keep his head elevated. Miles, help Shawn hold him.”

  Sadie could barely breathe. Please don’t let him die, she pleaded with the One she knew appreciated Pastor Donald even more than she did. Please let all of us get out of this alive.

  “What other law enforcement officers are still here?” Pete called out.

  “Sharon Jacobsen from Fort Collins,” a female voice yelled from the back of the room.

  “Ernie Blacktree, federal agent,” said another voice from a similar location.

  Only three? Sadie thought.

  Pete continued, “I need the officers to gather all remaining occupants into one location and provide cover and protection.”

  All three voices answered in the affirmative. Sadie heard the sound of movement and tables rolling for a couple of minutes. She remained between the north wall and the table, trying to control her breathing and her panic, wishing she and Pete were with the others instead of on the opposite side of the room.

  “Are our families still here?” Sadie asked Pete.

  Pete nodded to show that he’d heard her but kept listening until the movement stopped.

  “Clear,” one of the officers reported. “There are seventeen persons gathered near the southwest doors. It seems to be everyone.”

  “Is there anyone else in the room?” Pete asked, addressing his comment toward the back of the banquet hall.

  The silence made Sadie nervous. She couldn’t help but picture Jane crouched behind a table somewhere, undetected and waiting for another opportunity to exact her twisted revenge.

  “Jared, how is Pastor Donald?” Pete called after several seconds of pause.

  “He’s losing a lot of blood, Dad,” Jared said, concerned. “I don’t dare remove the glass in his neck, but it interferes with our ability to apply pressure. He needs to get to a hospital quick. Two of the additional guests have injuries as well—heart palpitations and what seems to be another sprained ankle. The smoke is triggering Michelle’s asthma, and we need to get her out of here. She doesn’t have her inhaler with her.”

  Pete’s mouth tightened, overwhelmed by the news. “Help is on its way,” he said again. “We need a roll call to see who else is here. Starting with the farthest southwestern individual.”

  “Jared Cunningham and Pastor Donald,” Jared called out.

  “Shawn Hoffmiller.”

  “Rex.”

  “Caro.”

  “Breanna.”

  “Liam.”

  The names continued to be called out and with each name of someone Sadie knew and loved she felt herself relax a little bit more. They were okay. They were safe.

  “Excellent,” Pete said when they finished. “Sharon and Ernie, clear the rest of the room. There’s an equipment closet in the far northeast corner. It was checked before the event but should be checked again. Throw the tables not being used for cover topside down to remove potential hiding places.”

  They both agreed to the task, and there was the sound of shuffling feet.

  Pete explained the protocol for evacuation, which would start as soon as Malloy told him the officers and evacuation location were ready. Pete paused each time a table made a thwack sound as it was laid flat. “We’ll evacuate two people at a time every thirty seconds on my count—thwack—Jared and Pastor Donald will exit first, Bert will facilitate—thwack—there will be—”

  Another explosion came from the direction of the already burning car.

  Screams and the sound of bodies hitting the floor again filled the room.

  Sadie covered her head with her hands and pressed herself into the corner, not realizing she was screaming until she felt Pete’s hand on her arm to stop her. His eyes were not hiding his own fear any longer.

  “That one was further away,” Pete said, but she could tell by his tone that the fact gave him little comfort.

  “All those officers are out there,” Sadie said.

  Pete gave a single sharp nod. The officers out there were Pete’s friends. Men he’d worked with for years. Were there more explosions to come? She looked toward the ceiling, which was now hidden by the black smoke still pouring into the room. She could feel the thickness of the toxic fumes and worried about Michelle’s ability to breathe.

  Pete reached for his phone and put it directly to his ear. Sadie hadn’t heard it ring, but of course he’d put it on silent for the wedding. The wedding. She looked up at her new husband—holding a Glock 9mm in his hand. This was not what she imagined the minutes after her marriage would be like. Even with the fear that Jane may have chosen the wedding as the forum for her revenge, no one had anticipated explosives.

  “Yes,” Pete said into the phone. “We can’t wait, Pastor Donald needs immediate attention. . . . My daughter’s having trouble breathing. . . . There are nineteen of us.” He paused to cough behind his hand. “The smoke is thick. . . . Okay.”

  Pete put his phone away. “A second car,” he explained. “Malloy has secured an office in the building we can remove to for now.”

  “What if there are more explosives?” Sadie asked.

  Pete didn’t have an answer. What if there were more? What could anyone do about it? “The officers that went out of the building have been evacuated away from the parking lot. Malloy’s sent half a dozen back to help us.”

  The sirens were louder—maybe right outside. Would the fire truck be allowed to put out the burning cars?

  “Is everyone okay?” Pete called out from his side of the table.

  “No further injuries,” Jared called back. “But Pastor Donald has lost consciousness. It is critical that he gets to a hospital as soon as possible, Dad. Michelle’s struggling but is still breathing. The smoke is getting worse.”

  Pete’s intake of breath was staggered, as though it was all he could do not to bolt across the room to help his daughter. But part of his training was to follow procedure, and he’d been given his orders. “There will be a knock at the southwest door. As soon as officers are in place, they will help get the pastor from the building. Will you attend him, Jared?”

  “Yes,” Jared said with anxious frustration. “When will they be here?”

  “Anytime,” Pete said. “Bert, can you cover their exit to the ambulance?”


  “Affirmative,” Bert called back.

  “I need help to carry him out,” Jared said. “I need him in a low Fowler’s position as much as possible. Shawn can attend, but Miles is helping Michelle.”

  “Bill McKay, will you attend?” Pete asked.

  “Yes,” Dr. McKay called back.

  Pete continued. “After the pastor’s removal, everyone stay where they are until I give the signal to begin evacuating every thirty seconds on my count with Michelle and Miles to remove next. Sharon and Ernie, will you assist by pairing each injured person with someone who can assist them from the room?”

  “Affirmative,” the officers called back in tandem.

  Sadie coughed behind her hand and looked at the ceiling. How much longer could they safely stay here?

  “How could she do this?” she asked out loud. The level of trauma everyone was experiencing overwhelmed her. Had this been Jane’s plan from the beginning? Had everything Sadie had done led up to this moment just as Jane had expected it would?

  Pete tried to wrap his arm around Sadie’s shoulder, but she winced as he touched what she feared was a shard of glass imbedded in her back. As the adrenaline wore off, the pain became more pronounced. Several areas on her back and head, arms and shoulders stung. Pete pulled his hand away and touched her chin instead, looking her in the eye.

  “Our children are okay,” he said. “We’re okay. Everything will turn out alright.”

  “They aren’t going to find her,” she said as guilt, panic, and hopelessness spread throughout her body. “She’ll get away with this and come back to do it all over again.”

  “Not a chance,” Pete said with resolution Sadie appreciated more than she could say. “She’s left us her car and two car bombs’ worth of evidence against her. She has made herself some powerful enemies through the officers who were here. We can trace parts on something like this. I guarantee we’ll find her.”

  “There’s the knock, Cunningham,” Bert called out.

  “Wait for my count,” Pete yelled as he flipped back into cop mode and resumed his position against the table with his head turned to the side. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number Sadie guessed was Malloy.