“Duty calls,” Jeremiah told Fonnie, “but I’ll definitely see you later. We’ve got to talk.”
“Yes, we definitely need to talk.”
After all the introductions, Fonnie's head was swimming with names and faces which she kept trying to connect. Of course, she would have no problem remembering Jeremiah. And another name she would remember was Buzz Garrison, the usher who looked like a leftover from a keg party.
On the way over to the chapel Fonnie made a point of catching up with Paul and warning him that he ought to insist on Buzz sitting out the rehearsal and the following dinner. “That man is a walking germ. He'll end up infecting everyone here.”
“I talked to him,” Paul said, “but he insists he doesn't have a fever. Thinks he just ate something that disagreed with him. He and Midge drove up from Florida. He started feeling bad before they left. I'm sure he's not contagious. Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him. If he's not better soon, I'll get him to a doctor.”
After the rehearsal at he chapel, Amy and Paul led the way back to the motel, where the rehearsal dinner would take place in a private dining room. The chapel was only a half-block from the motel so most people walked. However, Fonnie noticed that Midge Garrison had driven their Lexus over and Buzz, who had tried his best to keep a smile on his face, crawled into the passenger seat and dropped his head down on his chest. Fonnie shook her head. “Stubborn fool,” she muttered to herself.
When Keisha came up to walk with her to the motel, Fonnie demurred. “You go ahead. I think I'll go back inside and sit a bit, take in the ambiance of this lovely chapel. I love old buildings, especially churches. They often speak to our souls when we take time to listen.”
Keisha frowned. “Are you sure?”
“I'm sure. I can walk back by myself when I'm ready.” Fonnie glanced down the steps where a very tall, very dark, and very handsome man leaned against the railing. “I think Stephon is waiting for you. Run along now.”
When the chapel was empty, Fonnie leaned her head back on the pew, took a deep breath, closed her eyes. She liked the smell, a little musty from seldom used hymn books combined with the lemon scent of recently dusted pews. Tomorrow there would be the added fragrance of the wedding flowers and the lit candles. A sense of serenity settled over her. Yes, the Shepherd was here, calming the angry sea, watching over those who were about to take a long journey, by water, by matrimony, or simply by growing older. Her own journey had already been a long one, but Fonnie felt there was much more to come, and she was eager to see what lay ahead. It'd been quite awhile since she'd felt this way. She breathed a heartfelt 'Thank you' to the Shepherd by the Sea for restoring her sense of hope and expectation.
She'd been fascinated by the life-size statue that stood on the front steps of the chapel, welcoming all who entered. The brick church and the statue both faced the ocean while a narrow sidewalk led from the street that ran behind the church to the front. The shepherd's arms were outstretched to calm the waves, to calm the worshiper's fears. The corners of his eyes and mouth both crinkled upward, a message of reassurance and peace.
Fonnie opened her eyes and studied the inside of the small sanctuary. It was plain–almost stark, but the dark wood was smooth, mellowed from the touch of petitioners through the years. She could picture the sailors, their wives and sweethearts, praying for safe passage. Her eyes went to the candles on either side of the altar, and she said a silent prayer for the two souls who would be united the next day.
A noise in the back of the chapel startled her and she jerked her head around. A shadow loomed before her. Footsteps sounded in the quiet. Fonnie rose to her feet, her heart raced, and a chill went through her body. Her voice wavered. “Who are you?”
The shadow stopped. A soft voice answered her. “I'm sorry. I thought everyone had left. Just came to lock up.” He walked closer, smiled at her, stuck his hand out. “I'm the caretaker. Didn't mean to disturb you.”
Fonnie reached out and shook his hand. “I'm the mother of tomorrow's bride. I was just sitting here and thinking.”
“Aye. Weddings tend to make a person stop and think. I can come back later if you want.”
“No. No, I'm ready to go.” Fonnie scooted out of the pew and started toward the door. The caretaker followed behind her. Fonnie paused and looked around again. “It's a beautiful little church. Do you know its history?”
“That I do. It was built in 1884. This was a fishing village then. The year before, several local men were lost at sea in different storms and hurricanes. Some of the God-fearing widow women started the idea that they needed a church dedicated to those who went to sea. A church to bless them as they went out, where the women could come to pray for their safe return.”
“What a lovely idea. It must have been hard for a woman to sit and wait for her man to return.”
“My grandmother said during the First World War, she remembered coming here to pray for her father who was fighting in France. She said it didn't matter what port the men sailed out of, they knew our own Shepherd by the Sea was looking after them.”
“How inspirational. What denomination is it? It didn't say on the sign in front.”
“Non-denominational. Had regular services until after the Second World War. Now it's a tourist attraction, used only for special occasions. I'm going to lock up tonight because you have things ready for the wedding. But otherwise, it's left open so tourists can come in at any time.”
“How nice. And you've never had a problem with vandalism?”
“Never a problem from land or sea. Several hurricanes have tried to blow it away, but the Shepherd has always protected it.”
“That's marvelous. And I can feel His protection all around me.” Reluctant to leave the peaceful chapel, Fonnie again looked toward the dais. It was elevated higher than in other churches she'd been in. If there had been a preacher in the pulpit she would have had to bend her head back slightly to see his face. “I guess the pulpit is built high to force people to look heavenward.”
He nodded in agreement. “That and to make space for the hidden room underneath.”
Fonnie jerked her head around. “Hidden room?”
“Yes. It was built to be used as a shelter during hurricanes. There's a trap door under the lectern with stairs that leads down to a fair-size room. It could probably hold twenty people if they huddled together. They even added lights and a bathroom when the church was modernized. But it's not used these days. Most people have enough sense to evacuate when a big one's heading this way. And then there's the armory, further inland, for large emergencies.”
“A hurricane shelter in a basement? What about the danger of flooding?”
“The builders thought about that. The chapel's foundation is actually in a sand bunker. The only exposed part is a small area that fronts on the street. The only way it could flood is if the entire town flooded.”
“How interesting,” Fonnie said. “Well, I guess I'd better be going. I've taken up too much of your time already.”
“No problem. I enjoy talking about the Shepherd and His church. And you can be sure He'll be smiling on the wedding party tomorrow.”
Fonnie got back to the motel just as some of the guests were heading for the dining room. Brian came up and gave her a squeeze. “I was about to send out a search party. I knew you'd never deliberately miss a free meal.”
“I've been communing with the past, soaking up some peace for my soul. Wouldn't hurt you to do some meditating while you're here.”
“I might do that while Melanie and I are strolling in the moonlight tonight.”
“Who's Melanie?”
“Melanie Peacock. I just met her a little while ago. She a niece of Paul's friends, the Peacocks. You met them this afternoon–Hank and Doris.”
“Oh, yes. I remember them. A delightful couple. But I don't remember meeting Melanie.”
“She rode up from Miami with them, but she may have been in her room earlier. The Peacocks and the Garrisons were enjoyin
g a winter break in the sunshine state. Melanie's a nurse at Miami General. She dropped in to visit her uncle and aunt, learned they were coming up here for a wedding and decided to ride along.”
“Just like that? She invited herself to the wedding? Does she even know Paul or Amy?”
“She does now. You'll like her, Gram. She's quite a gal.”
“Sounds like. In my day, nurses couldn't get off work at the drop of their caps to go gallivanting around.” Fonnie gave Brian a warning look. “And don't you dare say something about things have changed since the Dark Ages.”
“I wasn't going to say that at all. It just happened that she had some time off coming and things were slow at the hospital.” Brian took Fonnie by the elbow and led her into the dining room. “Come on. I want you to meet her.”
Fonnie allowed herself to be dragged over to a slip of a girl standing by a ficus plant. She had on a pale pink gauzy dress, a charm bracelet that jangled when she moved and a large sterling silver ring on her left hand. Her blonde hair was swept up in a bun, but several tendrils were allowed to cascade causally down her forehead and over her ears, giving her a look of careless perfection. She had a dazzling smile and smelled of magnolias.
Fonnie had planned on disliking the girl who had barged in uninvited, but two minutes after their introduction, Melanie had charmed her way into the older woman's heart.
“I can see where Brian gets his good looks,” Melanie said, “his firm chin, his determined eyes. I know you must have been a terrific nurse. You seem like such a caring person.”
Fonnie blinked a couple of times. She wasn't accustomed to flowery compliments. She could fling insults with the best of people, but these accolades left her speechless. She finally managed a soft, “Thank you. I'm sure you're a very good nurse, also. So perceptive.”
Their mutual admiration society was interrupted by Jeremiah Trent. He took both her hands as if he thought she might try to get away. “I’ve been looking for you. I think the best man ought to have the choice of dinner partners, and Fonnie, I would be honored to have your company.”
“And I'd be delighted,” Fonnie said. She waved a tiny goodbye to Melanie and Brian and smiled at Jeremiah as he took her elbow and led her toward the table.
They were nearly to their destination when Jeremiah momentarily dropped Fonnie's arm to move a chair out of the way. A red-coated waiter, bearing a tray of filled iced tea glasses, emerged from behind a potted palm. The waiter, apparently intent on reaching the far side of the room, looked straight ahead, while at the same time, Fonnie glanced at her reflection on the mirrored wall. Neither noticed the other.
Their collision was not a pretty sight.
Chapter Three
Keisha rescued Fonnie in the middle of Jeremiah’s and the waiter's profuse apologies. She whisked the drenched woman off to her room to change clothes. Jeremiah waved after her, “Hurry back. We've got a lot to talk about.”
They did hurry. Keisha gave Fonnie little chance to moan about her ruined dress. “No time for that now. We're not going to let a little mishap spoil the evening. We both have handsome gentlemen waiting for us.”
“You're right,” Fonnie said. “Got to keep the big picture in mind.” She yanked some black nylon pants and a red sweater out of the closet. “These will have to do. My scintillating conversation will more than make up for any lack of formal dress.”
In fifteen minutes Fonnie was ready. Keisha pushed her out the door. “You go ahead. I'm going to put your dress to soak in cold water. It may take out some of the tea stains. I'll be down shortly.”
Keisha finished her task, then went to her own room to touch up her hair and makeup. As she came out into the hall again, the door across the hall opened. The woman exiting the room turned around and shut the door very quietly. Keisha pulled her door shut with a bang.
The other woman jumped. “Oh, you startled me. I thought everyone was downstairs.
“Not quite,” Keisha said. She decided she didn't owe Midge Garrison an explanation, but she was curious about the woman's husband. “I hope Buzz is feeling better.”
Midge smiled. “Yes. Yes, he is. Thank you for asking. But he decided he'd rest tonight so he would be up for the wedding tomorrow. He said he didn't want anything to eat.” They started down the hall toward the elevator. “I still think it's a flu bug.”
Midge shoved the elevator button with her index finger. Keisha got the impression that here was a woman who hated to be kept waiting, who liked and expected to be in control. The elevator must have picked up her vibes because it responded immediately. Midge shoved the “close door” button almost before Keisha was all the way in. “I told Buzz time and again he needed to take the flu vaccine, but no, not smarty-pants Garrison. He said last year the vaccine made him sick and he wasn't going to take that chance this year.” Midge's voice rose as the elevator descended. “Well, you can see where that got him. Sick as a dog and making me miserable–waiting on him, listening to him whining. I'll be so glad when this wedding is over. If he's not better then, I'm going to dump him in a hospital and leave him there.” She tossed her head and stalked out of the elevator.
Keisha watched her disappear into the dining room. Another example of wedded bliss, she thought. She hoped Amy and Paul would escape the tentacles of a marriage gone sour. Keisha had seen so many bad ones, she was beginning to think the chances of happily ever after were as remote as winning a lottery. She enjoyed men, liked dating, but getting married was not part of her long-term plan.
When she entered the dining room, Stephon smiled and waved to her from across the room. He stood up, pulled out her chair, touched her hand. Yes, she thought again, she really did enjoy being around men.
She glanced over at Fonnie and Jeremiah. They also seemed to be enjoying themselves. For a moment Keisha wished she could eavesdrop on them. Just what, she wondered, did Fonnie mean by “scintillating” conversation?
After assuring Jeremiah no harm had been done in the mishap, Fonnie began their chat with a question. “Are you the uncle with the pet armadillo?”
Jeremiah squinted, adjusted his glasses, peered at Fonnie. “I must have missed something. What does an armadillo have to do with anything?”
Fonnie grinned. “I'm just trying to get Paul's family straightened out in my head. Amy mentioned an eccentric uncle to me when she first started dating Paul. She said he had a pet armadillo and collected ping-pong balls.” Fonnie took a sip of tea. “Of course, she's been known to elaborate on the truth at times. But I thought I'd better check it out.”
“She was right about one thing,” Jeremiah said. He took his time slathering butter on his baked potato, cut a piece of steak, and waited for Fonnie's response.
“All right, already. Tell me. It's the ping-pong balls?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “It's the eccentric part. It runs in the family. But I fear Paul may have missed that gene. He seems too normal to be a Trent. Dreadful shame, but we can't all be blessed.”
Fonnie dropped her fork, sat back and crossed her arms. “I knew I was going to like you. I bet you even believe in unicorns.”
“What's not to believe? I rode one over a cliff when I was nine. Broke my arm, but it was a small price to pay for the ride.”
A choking sound escaped from behind Fonnie's napkin as she tried to control her laughter. “And what do you do for fun these days?”
“I've got to admit I've slowed down some lately. I still play hop-scotch with the neighborhood kids and ride my ATV in the woods behind my house, but I've given up rock climbing and parachuting. It just wasn't much fun after Agnes died. She was my long-suffering wife, passed on seven years ago. When she wasn't around to tell me how crazy I was it kind of punctured my balloon. Know what I mean?”
Fonnie nodded. “I think so. Half the fun of being eccentric is watching normal people react to your foolishness.”
“Right. But I haven't given up the Polar Bear Club yet.”
“Okay, I'll bite,” Fonnie said
. “And what do you do in the Polar Bear Club?”
“Swim.”
“There's nothing eccentric about that. I used to love to swim. I may even get back to it. The YMCA in our town has a new pool.”
“You didn't let me finish. We swim—in the ocean—in the wintertime—in below freezing temperatures.”
“Ouch! That's not eccentric. That's downright crazy.”
Jeremiah threw back his shoulders, took a deep breath. “It's what I owe my good health to. It builds up the immune system. I haven't had a cold in years. I have the heart and lungs of a man thirty years younger. If you ever need rescuing just call on me.”
“I'll do that.”
“I was beginning to think you might need rescuing after the rehearsal. I waited for you outside the chapel to walk with you. When you didn't you appear, I went back in and saw you chatting with some other man, so I left.”
“That other man was the caretaker. He was telling me the history of the chapel. It was most interesting, especially the part about the secret room.”
“You mean the hurricane room? That's no secret. There's an article about it in the Chamber of Commerce newsletter that's placed all around town and in every motel room.”
“Oh, I guess I hadn't gotten around to reading it yet. Anyway, I enjoyed listening to him.” Fonnie sipped her coffee and gave Jeremiah a full-face smile. “But not as much as I enjoy listening to you.”
The wedding was lovely. Buzz, only slightly green, was the perfect usher when he guided Fonnie to her seat. Dressed in an oyster-gray wool suit and with her hair carefully coiffed, Fonnie was pleased with her appearance, especially when Keisha whispered, “You're as pretty as an angel.”
The real angel, though, was the bride. Amy, beautiful in her off-white chiffon dress, carried a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots. Brian stood tall and proud as he escorted his mother down the aisle. Her only attendant, Clara, in a simple A-line blue dress, gazed at her new stepmother with a look of admiration. Paul wore a smile that bounced off the walls. Jeremiah handled the duties of best man without a hitch.
Murder and Misdeeds Page 2