by B R Snow
“Have you been drinking?” he whispered.
“Leg cramp.”
“You want me to carry you?”
“Funny.”
My long journey finally ended, and Rooster patted my hand before heading to his pew directly across from us. Faith continued to stand in front of a chair next to the altar but was now shooting daggers at the best man who was unable to stop grinning at her face. Next to him was Sammy, who seemed baffled by Faith’s appearance as well as our noticeable limps. But a huge grin appeared on his face when he spotted Jill making her way down the aisle.
Finally, a little bride and groom action to take our minds off what had transpired.
The mass was reasonably short, and I made it through with only minor cramping, most notably during the kneeling portion of the program. Then Josie and I, along with Rooster and Jackson, took our places on the altar next to the bride and groom. I wormed my way in between Josie and Faith, hoping to avoid a rematch during the ceremony, and beamed at the happy couple the entire time.
At least two people were happy today. And I was glad those two were Sammy and Jill. The hardest part of the day was over for them as soon as the priest pronounced them man and wife, and they headed down the aisle arm in arm and out of the church. Rooster extended his arm, and we followed Faith and the best man outside where the photographer was already trying to organize various groups of people. I spotted Faith consulting with the makeup artist who had arrived with the photographer. She carefully removed the wads of tissue from her nose and again checked to make sure the bleeding had stopped. Then the makeup artist applied several layers of what I assumed was a concealing agent.
Josie and I waited with Rooster and Jackson just outside the church and watched Sammy and Jill greet several well-wishers. Jill eventually spotted us, and she strolled over.
“Congratulations,” I said, hugging her tight. “You made it through.”
“Thanks,” Jill said, returning the hug. “Slight change of plans. We’re going to skip the wedding party receiving line. Faith isn’t feeling up to it, so Sammy and I are going to handle it by ourselves.” She looked over at Josie. “How’s your leg?”
“It hurts,” Josie said. “When will you need us for pictures?”
“It’s going to be a few minutes before we start with the wedding party,” Jill said, shaking her head. “Faith wants to do some solo maid of honor shots first. You know, before the bruises really start to show.”
“Is she still planning on having them done in the garden?” I said, frowning.
“Yeah, she is,” Jill said. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she won’t listen.”
“This I gotta see,” Josie said, limping down the steps onto the path that led to the garden in back of the church. “C’mon, you don’t want to miss this.”
“I’ll join you in a bit,” Jill said, shaking her head. “But first I need to go grab my husband.”
“Now, there is one happy woman,” I said, watching her head in Sammy’s direction.
“C’mon, hurry up,” Josie said, nodding for me to follow her. “This is going to be good.”
“Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too far?”
“Not until she’s wearing that shawl as a sling,” Josie said, limping her way down the path.
We made our way to the garden where the photographer was already frowning and silently nodding at the myriad instructions Faith was giving him. The makeup artist was still working on her face, and she dabbed on a final layer of the concealer, then took a step back to review the results and shrugged.
“Okay, that’s the best I can do,” she said, standing next to the photographer.
“Faith,” I said, unable to stop myself. “I don’t this is a good idea.”
“Like I’m going to take advice from you,” Faith snapped.
She held the bottom of her dress up and inched her way into the garden that was bordered with a thicket of lilac in full bloom. After a few steps, she frowned and looked down at the ground.
“It’s muddy in here,” she said, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Funny how that happens after it rains,” Josie deadpanned.
“Try to stand on the stepping stones,” I said, pointing.
Faith ignored us and continued to work her way into the garden until she was pleased with the background the lilac provided. She nodded at the photographer.
“Okay, let’s get this going,” Faith said, striking a pose. “How’s this?”
“How about something a little less runway model?” the photographer said, lowering his camera. “Let’s just start with a natural pose and go from there.”
“Why is everyone fighting everything I’m trying to do?” she said, glaring at the photographer. “Just shoot the pictures, okay?”
“Okay, you’re the boss.”
Faith nodded and resumed her earlier pose. Then something buzzed her head, and she swatted at it with her hand.
“You probably don’t want to do that, Faith,” I said, watching the scene play out from a safe distance. “That’s a yellowjacket, and it really hurts when they sting you.”
“Yeah, you’re just going to make him mad,” Josie said, taking a step back.
Faith continued to swat at the bee that had now been joined by two of its friends. They circled her head, and she tried taking a step to one side, but the mud was making sudden movements difficult. Seconds later, it was impossible to tell whether Faith or the bees were more agitated as she flailed at them with both hands.
“Yellowjackets are the ones that can sting you multiple times, right?” Josie said.
“Yup. Please, come on out of there, Faith,” I said, pleading with her. “You’re going to get stung.”
“Shut up,” she snapped at me, then resumed waving both arms frantically as the bees increased the speed at which they were circling her head.
“Well, you gave it your best shot,” Josie said, folding her arms across her chest as she watched the scene play out.
“Yeah, I did. But I guess she’s a big girl and capable of making her own decisions.”
“Pity they aren’t better decisions.”
“Yeah, good point,” I said, taking another step back from the garden.
Josie glanced over at the photographer who was rapidly snapping pictures.
“I’m going to want a copy of those,” Josie said, grinning at him.
“These are going to be great,” he said, laughing.
The first bee stung her on the shoulder right through the shawl she was still wearing. Faith flinched and cried out, but it was the second sting on the bridge of her nose that really got her attention. Rather than think her way through the implications, she reacted on instinct and swatted the bee hard. Blood immediately began to spurt out of her nose. Enraged, Faith removed the shawl from her shoulders and snapped it like one would a wet towel at a playmate at the pool. The shawl didn’t connect with any of the bees that continued to buzz her head in increasing numbers, but it did hit one of the lilac branches. Several dozen bees, their early afternoon snack interrupted, rose out of the lilac and headed straight for Faith. Realizing her mistake, Faith tried to make a hasty retreat, but her shoes protested and refused to follow. She came out of her Christian Louboutin stiletto pumps, stumbled a few steps forward, then fell face down in the mud.
The yellowjackets attacked in full force.
Faith screamed and wrapped both arms around her head.
The photographer’s camera continued to click like a metronome.
The makeup artist stared down at the maid of honor laying in the mud and did her best not to laugh.
Josie and I looked on horrified by the assault Faith was receiving.
“We have to get her out of there,” I said.
“And get stung like she is?” Josie said, frowning at me. “Not gonna happen.”
“Hang on,” I said, heading toward the back entrance of the church.
I did my best duck-waddle in my dress
and covered the fifty feet as fast as I could and huffed and puffed my way through the back door. I glanced around, then spotted a fire extinguisher fastened to a wall. I grabbed it and hustled back to the garden where Faith was still under attack. I pulled the firing pin and pointed it at her.
“Shut your eyes, Faith,” I said, raising the fire extinguisher.
“That’s not gonna be a problem,” Faith mumbled through a mouthful of mud.
I fired an extended stream of foam that soaked her and the bees. The bees that survived made a hasty retreat.
“Nice shot,” Josie said, staring down at the foam-soaked Faith. “C’mon, let’s drag her out of there.”
We grabbed Faith by the shoulders, flipped her over, then helped her to her feet. We escorted her out of the garden then set her down gently on the lawn. She was sobbing hysterically and covered with welts.
“You’re going to have to go to the emergency room, Faith,” I said, grimacing at her neck and shoulders.
She managed a slow nod as her tears mixed with the blood that was still pouring out of her nose. Josie handed her a handful of tissues, and Faith glanced up then glared at Josie.
“Don’t worry. You and I aren’t done yet,” Faith snapped, then flinched when she pressed the tissues against her nose.
“Tenacious little thing, isn’t she?” Josie said, glancing over at me.
“You gotta give her that.”
“You can stop taking pictures now,” Faith said, scowling at the photographer.
“Just one more,” the photographer said, focusing the camera. “C’mon, give me that same look again. Perfect.”
Click.
Chapter 7
After Faith was taken to the ER, we continued with the photo sessions at the church, and the photographer did his best to work around the rather noticeable absence of the maid of honor. When we finished, Josie and I piled into a limo with the best man and Rooster and Jackson for the short ride to my mother’s place where her backyard had been transformed into wedding reception central. A massive white tent filled most of the yard, and the tables were covered with white linen tablecloths. Rose and lily centerpieces provided the perfect accent, and there wasn’t a lilac in sight.
My mother’s attention to detail is matched only by her familiarity with the yellowjacket’s fondness for the flower while in full bloom.
She greeted us upon arrival, and dozens of guests were already sitting at the tables enjoying cocktails and appetizers.
“You did a great job, Mom,” I said, glancing around. “The place looks amazing.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said. “I approached it as a warm-up event for your wedding. Dare I dream.”
“Here we go,” Josie said, laughing.
“Not today, Mom. Okay?” I said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m ready for a glass of wine.”
“How’s the maid of honor doing?” my mother said.
“They’re going to see what they can do about all the bee stings. But she got pounded. And they’re going to try to get the swelling down around her nose and maybe reset it if it’s broken. The paramedic said there’s a chance she might be able to make it to the reception at some point.” I glanced around again making a mental note of the people I wanted to speak with at some point in the festivities.
“Not today, darling,” my mother said, noticing my wandering eyes and shaking her head.
“What are you talking about?”
“I know that look,” she said. “You’re about to go headfirst into snoop mode.”
“This is probably going to be my only chance to talk to some of these people. And in case you forgot, there’s a very good chance that the person who poisoned Roger is going to be here.”
“Just promise me you’ll try to take it easy,” my mother said, placing a hand on my forearm. “Try not to annoy the guests.”
“Sure, sure,” I said, spotting Chief Abrams standing at the bar. “Save me a seat.”
I headed for the Chief waving to several friends on the way. He was drinking a beer and chatting with the bartender.
“Hey, nice job,” he said, turning toward me and leaning his back against the bar. “But what the heck happened?”
“Josie got into it with the maid of honor before the ceremony. She took a swing at Josie and missed. Then it kind of went downhill for her after that. For the record, she’s a bit of a bleeder.”
“So I noticed,” the Chief said, taking a sip of beer. “Strange day. The first time I’ve ever been to a combination memorial service and wedding.” He shook his head. “Strange.”
“Indeed. You got any news?”
“Nothing really new,” he said, taking another sip. “We should have the preliminary toxicology report back tomorrow. And the state police are still convinced Jill’s mother had to be the one who slipped the poison into his glass.” He frowned and stared off into the distance.
“But you’re not convinced,” I said.
“I’m not. Who knows, maybe the guy just had a heart attack.”
“He didn’t have a heart attack, Chief, and you know it,” I said, making a face at him.
“But it just seems too easy,” he said. “And why on earth would she do it at the table? She was sitting right next to him all night and would have known going in that she’d be the primary suspect.”
“Yeah, that part of it does seem pretty cut and dried,” I said, accepting the glass of wine the bartender was extending. “Thanks.” I took a sip and set my glass down. “It’s almost gift-wrapped.”
“So, what’s your plan for tonight?” he said, cocking his head at me.
“What makes you think I have a plan?”
“Let’s call it a lucky guess.”
“You know me so well,” I said, grinning at him. “I was thinking about spending some time with some of Jill’s family members as well as the other women Roger had been involved with.”
“Funny, that’s my plan as well,” he said, finishing his beer. “But we better work separately. If we try to tag team anybody, they might get a little suspicious.”
“Yeah, and we can annoy twice as many people that way,” I said.
“You gotta play to your strengths, right? But let’s get together later on to compare notes.”
“Good idea,” I said, nodding. “Who are you going to start with?”
“I thought I might start by offering my congratulations to Jill’s parents,” he said, nodding at the table they were sitting at. “Since they can’t stand the sight of each other, maybe they’ll be glad to have some company and feel like chatting.”
“I like it,” I said, nodding. “I’m going to have a talk with the two aunts.”
“Which ones are they again?” the Chief said, glancing around.
“They’re over there,” I said, nodding at a nearby table. “The one on the far left is the sister of Jill’s mom. The woman next to her is her dad’s sister. Apparently, they both had torrid affairs with the deceased.”
“That guy certainly got around,” the Chief said. “The other woman at the table, Roger’s ex. What’s her name again?”
“Missy McNamara.”
“Missy, that’s it. Jill’s godmother, right?”
“Yup, that’s her. She’s really nice.”
“How long is she going to be staying with you?” the Chief said.
“A couple of days I think. She’s never been up here before and wants to have a look around. And those are three of the most beautiful labs you’ll ever see. They make me melt.”
“Say no more,” he said, laughing.
“You know what a soft touch we are when it comes to labs,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s only labs.”
“Especially the labs. But Missy is great. You’ll like her.”
“Is she still grieving about her ex-husband?”
“I’d say sufficiently shocked. Sad, but way past grieving. They’d been divorced a long time.”
“What does she do?”
&n
bsp; “She’s some sort of teacher I think. Maybe social studies,” I said, frowning at my guess.
“Okay, I’ll see you later,” the Chief said, grabbing his fresh beer off the bar. “Happy hunting.”
“You, too.”
On my way to join Missy and the two aunts, I spotted Freddie heading my way waving an arm to get my attention.
“Where did you go?” I said to him. “You took off right after the ceremony.”
“I had to stop by my office,” he said. “The preliminary toxicology report came back early.”
“That’s great,” I said, grabbing his arm and leading him to an empty table. We sat down next to each other, I leaned in close.
“Suzy, people will talk,” he said, grinning at my proximity.
“Funny. What does the report say?”
“Well, like I said, it’s only the preliminary report, but the deceased definitely ingested a lethal dose of cyanide.”
“Is that all?” I said, staring at him.
“Geez, we’re talking about cyanide here, Suzy. Don’t you think that’s enough?”
“What I mean is, did anything else show up in his system?”
“His dinner. He went with Italian. But they’re still looking,” Freddie said, shrugging. “The final report is probably going to take about a week. I need to go give the Chief an update.”
“He said he was going to go congratulate Jill’s parents,” I said, my neurons starting to fire.
Freddie glanced around until he spotted the Chief. He stood up, still glancing around.
“Okay, got him. But I don’t see Faith anywhere.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “You left right after the ceremony.”
“Did I miss something?”
“Yeah, you might say that,” I said, fighting back a smile as I recalled the sight of Faith flailing her arms at the bees.