by Tegan Maher
"Well do you still have any of the poems?" I asked Nikki, impressed with that level of dedication. He must have really liked her if he'd committed that much time into wooing her. Either that, or he was a nut-case stalker, but I was confident if that had been the case, the Chief of Police wouldn't be sitting here encouraging her to go out with him.
"I might have kept one or two of 'em," she said, not meeting our eyes. Translation: She had all of them in a shoebox somewhere. That was all I needed to know. She liked him, too.
"Then call him," I said. "You do like him, right? Or are you having some kind of allergic reaction that's turning your face and neck a lovely tomato color?"
She narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger at me. "You're enabling all of them." She made a circular motion with her finger.
"Yes, I am, at least as long as you actually like the guy."
"He's okay," she said, stabbing a marshmallow with her stick. "I just didn't want to be the rebound."
Gabe snorted. "I think you're safe. He's been divorced for three years or so now."
"Fine," she growled. "I'll call him. But when he ends up unemployed, sitting on my couch in his underwear and eating all my food in six months, I'll blame every one of you."
"I'm okay with that," I said, and the others agreed. If anybody deserved love, it was Nikki. Annie, too, for that matter, but we'd work on that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WE STARTED BRIGHT AND early the next day because we wanted to get everything done and out of the way. Dee spent the first part of the morning putting the top coat of frosting on the cake, then put the layers back in the fridge and started working on other goodies. By noon, we were finished with everything that could be done up ahead of time except for decorating the cake.
"I'm starving," she said. "I'm gonna run to town and pick us up a couple of Cubans."
"We have a decade's worth of food here," I said, but she wrinkled her nose.
"No offense, but I've had my fill of veggies, and if I eat anymore cheese, I'm gonna be plugged up tighter than a miser's wallet for the next week."
I laughed. "Thanks for the visual. Now I'm scared to eat anymore, too."
While she was gone, I took a minute to wander around and see how things were going. Rows of folding chairs were arranged in two groups with path down the middle that led to the fireplace, which was draped with blue and white streamers. Candles and empty vases sat on the mantle amid artfully arranged glittery tulle and twinkling white lights, and the chairs on either end of the rows boasted beautiful blue bows with silver trim. Strings of white lights were placed strategically around the room to lend the whole area a classy, understated elegance.
When I stepped out the back door into the garden, I was swept away. A few people still hustled about putting on finishing touches, but as far as I could tell, there wasn't much left to do. The roses and hedges were all neatly trimmed and lined with red mulch, and the brick path was surely as level as the day Maisey and her husband had laid it. The fountain shone a bright white and was whole again, and I could barely tell where he'd patched it.
Fairy lights twinkled dimly from the trees and four giant canopies covered clusters of round tables. White plastic folding chairs leaned against them, tipped up to keep the dew from settling on them overnight. A stage sat at the back of the garden, also covered by a canopy, and a dance floor that looked like it was made of large large connected pieces of faux wood flooring sprawled in front of it.
"I'm waiting until tomorrow morning to put the tablecloths, centerpieces, bows, and streamers out, and we're making the flower arrangements first thing in the morning, too, so they're as fresh as possible," Annie said from beside me, and I startled. I'd been so entranced that I hadn't even heard her approach.
"You've knocked it out of the park," I told her, my gaze roaming over the area again.
She blushed. "I did my best, and the girls contributed some great ideas, too. I guess I'm happy with it considering we only had a couple of days to pull it all together."
"Girl, if this is what you managed to pull together in a day and a half, I'd love to see what you could do if you had a few weeks or months to think about it."
Grinning, she bumped me with her shoulder. "I did do a decent job, didn't I?"
"I'd say so. Have you seen the front of the house lately?"
She nodded. "I just did. But you should probably go check it out yourself."
Her brown eyes were sparkling up at me, and I had the feeling I was missing something.
"Why," I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.
She just took my arm and pulled me toward the house. "Just go see."
When we first stepped out the door, I didn't notice anything different, but then I realized pots overflowing with various types of colorful blooms sat on either end of each step.
"Oh!" I exclaimed, "Scout managed to find flowers!"
She raised a brow. "Yeah, but that's not surprising. The man's managed to get six weeks' worth of work done in two days. That he found a few potted plants is no big shocker. Look closer."
A tapping noise coming from the corner of the yard caught my attention, and I about fell over when I realized what was going on. Guy Andrews was smoothing a layer of mortar over a layer of bricks that formed a circle around where we'd had the fire the night before.
"Is he building a fire pit?" I asked.
She nodded. "C'mon. Let's take a closer look."
I followed her across the lawn, and Guy glanced up at us as he placed another brick.
"Guy, this looks amazing!" I said. "You didn't have to do it, though. I doubt any wedding guests are gonna be using it. Hopefully, the party's broken up by the time it gets dark."
He grinned up at me. "I'm not doing it for the wedding. I'm doing it for you. Grace went down and talked to Don last night. She starts training as the day-shift bartender tomorrow. And that's not all. He wants her to be an assistant manager, too, since she has that business degree. He started her at a manager's rate rather than a bartender's. He said if that goes well, he'll move her up to manager in a few months."
"So what's that got to do with me?" I asked. "All I did was point her in the right direction. Honestly, I had my own selfish reasons for wanting that position filled."
Annie snorted. "You never do anything with a purely selfish motive."
"Even if you did," Guy said as he placed another brick, "you helped us out of a real bind. Sure, we need the money somethin' fierce, but Grace was feeling bad about herself because she wasn't contributing. That never bothered me, but it did her, so I'm doubly thankful. We had extra bricks, and Scout had mentioned how you've been wanting a real fire pit out here. It seems like the least I can do."
Once again, I was stricken by just how different life was in a small town. Sure, there were good people in the city, but ones that would do something like this were few and far between. Here, it seemed to be the norm."
"All I can say is thank you, then," I said, admiring how he'd placed ventilation holes so that they created a pattern. Pretty and functional.
He beamed up at me. "It's my pleasure. Now, let me get back to it so I can get it done today. I'd like to make sure it's gonna set right."
"I'll leave you to it, then," I said as my SUV rumbled up the drive. Dee and I shared it, and I was surprised when she pulled out two bags stuffed full of food.
"Come help me," she called when she caught sight of us. "I called on my way and asked Jeremy if he could make up enough for everybody, and I brought chips and soda too. Enough for today and tomorrow."
"That means you, too," I told Guy. "Come eat."
He nodded. "I'm at a good stopping point. Lemme lay the last few bricks in this layer and I'll be right up."
Annie and I rushed over to her and grabbed bags out of the back and followed her into the house and out the back door to the tables, stopping only long enough to drop off the extra chips and soda in the kitchen.
Bear had caught a whiff of the food and plodded along
beside me, his nose an inch from the bags. I shook my head. No matter how much he ate, he was always up for more.
"Where's Scout?" Annie asked as she slid a bag of sandwiches onto one of the round tables.
"He's down getting the last of the mulch," I replied. "They ran out before he was satisfied, though I can't for the life of me see any spots that look bare. He should be here any minute."
Maisey popped in, her eyes shining. "He did a bang-up job, didn't he?"
Grace, who'd been putting a shine on the backyard, tilted her head and drew her brows down in concentration.
"You okay?" I asked her.
She didn't answer right away, but kept listening.
"Yeah, I guess," she said after a moment. "It's just ..." she shook herself and smiled. "Never mind. I'm starting to think I'm losing my mind."
"Oh for heaven's sake," Maisey exclaimed. "The poor girl thinks she's losin' her marbles and hearin' voices. Just tell her about me already. She's gonna be workin' at the bar from what I understand, so she's gonna keep runnin' into me."
Grace's head snapped up, but she swallowed and did her best to recover, no doubt hoping none of us had noticed.
I leaned over and whispered, "You're not losing your mind and you're not hallucinating, but I can't explain right now. Later, okay?"
She nodded, staring a hole into the empty spot where Maisey had been hovering a few seconds before. "Thank you. I'm gonna go sit with Guy for now, but we'll talk later. I'm dyin' to hear your explanation."
"Yeah," I said, "don't thank me yet. Once you're in on the secret, you may wish you'd remained blissfully ignorant."
"Watch it!" Maisey exclaimed. "I'm a breath of fresh air. A wise elder with a great sense of humor. You're lucky to have me."
Since I couldn't reply, I just smiled. Grace, on the other hand, cast a worried glance in my direction as she wandered away from the table, still looking around for the source of the voice. "You may be right about that."
"I know I am," I said while Maisey glared at me.
I took my plate to the table where Annie, Dee, and Nikki had gathered.
"Hey, Nik," I said. "I didn't see you sneak in."
"I just got here," she said. "I didn't have any afternoon appointments, so I figured I'd come out and help."
"Awesome. We've got most everything done, but I'm gonna go ahead and do up the deviled eggs and and a few other things this afternoon. I didn't want to do them too early because I wanted them to be as fresh as possible."
"I could use some help with the flowers," Annie said. "I'm using fresh flowers for most everything, but I did pick up some silk ones for places like the front of the stage where they're gonna take a beating. I haven't made those arrangements yet because I wanted to see everything set up before I made a solid decision."
"I can do that," Nikki said, nodding. "You'll have to do one first though. I'm a show-me learner, so I'm no good at verbal directions. Did you have carte blanche on the bouquets?"
"Totally, aside from the colors and that she wants roses in the bridal bouquets."
"Speaking of," I said, "has anybody talked to Stevie recently? I gotta say, I was worried when we agreed to do this because I don't think I'd deal well with a bridezilla situation, but she's been a breeze."
Dee snorted. "Yeah, because she's handling it instead of her mom. She came out earlier while you were gone, and she's absolutely thrilled, as opposed to how I'm sure Amelia would have picked it apart. If that woman weren't in jail for murder, we probably would be."
"Concur," Nikki said after chasing down a bite of sandwich with her soda. "She came in to get her hair done the day Charlie was killed, and I nearly stabbed her with my comb because she was talking so much smack. I'm used to dealing with self-righteous old biddies, but that one takes the cake. First she picked at everything I was doing, then she generalized about what a backwoods town we had, then she started throwing shade on Charlie."
"Wait," I said, thinking back to the calendar. "Why was she smack-talking Charlie? According to his day planner, she didn't go see him until that afternoon." Even though she'd said she'd seen him that morning.
Nikki shrugged. "She said she'd just gone to see him, and her appointment with me was at noon."
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and flipped through my pics until I came to the one of Charlie's day planner.
"That's weird," I said, flipping my phone around so everybody could see it. "It says three o'clock."
"Maybe she went back," Nikki replied, "but she wouldn't shut up about the whole carnation thing."
"Lemme see that," Dee said, squinting toward my phone.
I handed it to her, and she spread her fingers on the screen to zoom in. "It looks like something may have been erased," she said. "From the line right under Amelia's. Four-thirty."
She tried to zoom in closer, but the phone wouldn't go anymore.
"Please tell me it says Lynn Small," I said.
"It's too faded to read in this pic," she replied after a couple of seconds. "Maybe if you look at the actual book, but I can't decipher anything from just this."
"When I looked at the actual book, something had definitely been erased. The page was covered with eraser gunk.
"I think it's time I go visit Amelia," I said, tossing the remainder of my sandwich to Bear. "Something's not adding up."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I WASHED UP AND WENT upstairs to change clothes, hitting Gabe's speed dial as I did.
"What's up?" he asked when he picked up.
"I just talked to Nikki. This may not be a big deal, but I just found out that she did Amelia's hair at noon yesterday. Nik says Amelia complained about the carnations then and said she'd gone to see him before she'd come to her hair appointment."
"Which doesn't jive with what's in the book."
"Exactly. What's Amelia said about it?" If she was denying being there that afternoon, then there was a good chance she was telling the truth.
"She's not saying anything at all about it. She lawyered up and hasn't said a peep about the case. She's sure been raisin' the roof about everything else though."
"Are you at the office now?" I asked, putting him on speaker so I could change.
"I am. Why?"
"Can I come talk to her? Maybe she'll talk to me since I can say I'm not working in an official capacity. She doesn't need to know that we're sharing information."
"I like it," he said. "When are you coming? I'll be here for the next hour or so, anyway."
"I'll be there in twenty. Oh, and do you have the book there?"
"I do. I'll take a closer look. If I can't figure it out, maybe you can."
"Fingers crossed," I replied, then ended the call.
I skipped down the steps and grabbed my keys off the ring in the kitchen, calling my goodbyes over my shoulder. "I'll be back in an hour. I'm gonna talk to Amelia and take a closer look at the actual book."
"Luck!" Dee called after me. "Keep us posted."
Fifteen minutes later, I was jogging through the three-story foyer of the courthouse, doing my best to keep my sneakers from squeaking on the marble floors. Even though my brain knew it was a public place, there was something austere about the centuries-old building that always made me treat it like a library.
Gabe's secretary wasn't at her desk, so I just ducked under the hinged part of the counter and made my way back to his office unannounced.
"Hey!" he said when I tapped on the frame of his open door. He pushed Charlie's appointment book toward me. "I can see where something's been erased, but I can't tell what."
I examined it closer, and though I could tell something had been written there, whoever had erased it had been thorough and almost scrubbed a hole in the paper.
Sighing in resignation, I closed the book and pushed it back toward him. "Another dead end. Maybe she'll be a little more forthcoming."
"Hopefully," he said. "I've already called down to the jail and told them you were coming, so all you have to do is sign i
n."
"So, they'll lead me to her cell or bring her to me, or what?" I asked. It wasn't like I had experience with jail visits.
"She should already be in an interview room. If not, they'll bring her to one."
"Okay," I said, pivoting toward the door. "I'll go talk to her now. Hopefully I can get something we can use."
"Toni?" he said just as I was exiting.
I stopped in my tracks and looked back.
"Do you still think she did it? I'm getting pressure to charge her or release her."
"I don't know," I said after a couple seconds. "Honestly? I'm doubtful."
He pulled in a deep breath, then released it. "Me too, and even if I thought she was, I don't have enough to hold her."
"So are you releasing her now? Or are you going to wait to see what, if anything, she's willing to tell me?"
"Neither," he replied. "I'm holding her for the full forty-eight hours or until we have proof that somebody else did it. She's a flight risk. If I release her now, then find evidence convicting her tomorrow, she can be out of the country. I don't care who's pressuring me. She's sitting tight until I can clear her."
I cast him a sideways glance as we headed down the hallway toward the stairs that led to the jail. "What about presumption of innocence?" My tone was light, but I was curious to hear his response.
"I'm giving her that. I'm still investigating the murder. But there's also the presumption that she'll hightail it out of here. If she did do this, she'd be on the next flight to whatever island country would protect her, and Charlie would never get justice. And that's why we have the forty-eight-hour rule, which I fully intend to honor."
I was happy with that answer. Tough but fair.
Since the jail was in the same building, it only took us a couple minutes to get to the reception desk.
"Hey, chief," a young woman in a deputy uniform said. "We've got her in interview 3."
"Thanks, Shelly," he replied. "I'm gonna stay out here. Ms. Owens will be speaking with her alone."