Ropes and Trees and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  Someone’s arms slipped around me and I hugged Daisy before I knew it was her, the two of us squeezing each other while we sighed in unison over the gorgeous scene.

  “Well done, Fee,” she whispered in my ear as Pamela said her vows in a clear, strong voice.

  “You too, Day,” I whispered back. “Partners?”

  She giggled in my ear. “You’re sure?”

  I squeezed harder. “Please, save me from myself.”

  She hesitated one last second. “Partners,” she said with pure delight.

  Considering Mom had agreed to the same just yesterday after a long look at my harried and overworked expression, I now had exactly what I was looking for.

  Well, not quite. There was one last person I needed a straight answer from. But Crew Turner could wait until after the wedding.

  Alicia handed Pamela a ring which she placed on Aundrea’s finger. Then it was Jared’s mother’s turn, her own vows more shakily spoken, enough the gathering in the front tittered their amusement at something I missed. Didn’t matter. I’d get the play-by-play from Mom later. Jared, standing with Aundrea, handed off his own ring into his mother’s trembling hands and the ceremony came to a quick end with an enthusiastic and heartfelt kiss.

  I caught my breath at the sight of Crew as he stood from his seat near the front, following the laughing brides as they came down the aisle toward me. The staff hovered, Daisy ready and waiting, while Mom disappeared back into the kitchen to finish her own preparations. We had exactly one hour to convert the dining room back from wedding hall to somewhere the brides could host their dinner and I wasn’t wasting a moment. But I did take that long, happy look at the sheriff—a fresh, crisp haircut adding to his deliciousness—in his dark suit and tie. In that moment I could picture him as the FBI agent he used to be and wondered.

  He met my eyes, waited for the bulk of the guests to join the now married couple in the foyer, then joined me and Daisy while my new partner snapped to work, pulling the doors of the dining room shut, the barrier not quite cutting off her brusque commands. She could be a real general when she needed to be and I snorted over the sound of her cracking her audible whip.

  Crew grinned, towering over me in all his broad-shouldered handsomeness. I’d worn flats instead of heels, knowing how much running I’d be forced to do would make any kind of attempt to augment my height a disaster waiting for my feet to hate me. But that meant he had a serious height advantage, though I wasn’t exactly complaining.

  Yum.

  “Nice wedding,” he said. “If you like weddings.” What was that sparkle in his blue eyes?

  “So far, so good,” I said, glancing at the guests mingling and sipping drinks being handed out by a pair of baristas Daisy borrowed from Sammy’s Coffee. Olivia’s strained smile made me wince as the mayor paused to talk to my dad. He looked uncomfortable in his own suit, as if Mom stuffed him into it against his will. The two of them—former sheriff and mayor on the outs—looked far too serious after a moment and parted, frowning.

  All I needed was for them to ruin the mood.

  “Have to run,” I said. “Don’t arrest anyone, okay?”

  Crew winked, sipping the glass of wine he nabbed from the tray passing by. “No promises.”

  I wished I could linger and admire him in his suit a little longer, missing for a moment the waves that used to curl over his collar, wondering at the professional cut he’d opted for, thinking about the FBI again. Hopefully he wouldn’t dine and dash and I’d get the chance to not only feast on the eye candy that was Crew but ask him a few pointed questions about the future. For now, I had the remains of this wedding to survive.

  Mom was just as bossy in the kitchen as Daisy was in the dining room, the towering confection of lacy sugar and edible flowers matching the décor perched carefully in one corner, a fence of chairs set around the rolling table Mom built the cake on shielding it from accidental bumps and nudges. I had to admit, it was stunning, six tiers, each one smaller than the last, perched on delicate platforms of glass. I knew from Mom’s construction that all six levels held different flavors and that the top tier, simple vanilla cake with cream cheese icing, was Pamela’s choice and favorite and would be going home with the couple when the wedding was over.

  Dinner went off about as cleanly and hitch free as I could have hoped for, though when the bread ran out I almost panicked. To my shock, Mom made a rapid call without thinking twice and in twenty minutes a batch of freshly baked rolls and loaves landed in the annex kitchen, the French’s Handmade Bakery logo making me itch between my shoulder blades. Not because I begrudged Vivian the business, not in the least. It was more the casual way Mom called on her for help that gave me the heebies.

  My suspicions seemed to be coming home to roost and I wasn’t all that eager to accept maybe Vivian and I were birds of a feather when it came to my mother.

  The guests were happy, that was all I cared about, really. And when Daisy and the staff cleared the last of the food away and Mom wheeled out the cake, the oohs and ahhs of appreciation were totally worth every single moment of angst and struggle it took to get here.

  Not just to the wedding day. But the annex, Petunia’s, my life. All of it. I inhaled the joy of success, of happiness and my own satisfaction as the couple cut the gorgeous cake.

  No one made any jokes about the taste, thank goodness, though I knew from the faint edge to Mom’s laughter she had to be thinking about the baking show debacle that almost derailed her. I glanced up as Vivian, an unexpected guest I’d avoided until now, rose from her seat and headed for the foyer, likely looking for the ladies room, and went after her on impulse.

  I caught her almost to the door with the pretty painted woman in the middle, drawing a breath before speaking in the quiet of the hall, the two of us alone for the moment while laughter and the commencement of speeches echoed from the dining room.

  “I know what you did.” That sounded like an accusation. I cleared my throat to try again while Vivian arched one of her utterly perfect eyebrows at me, her pale ivory dress the exact shade of her blonde hair. Kind of classless in my opinion to wear that color to a wedding, but who was judging?

  Me. I was judging. Deep breath, Fee.

  “For Mom.” That was better. Vivian didn’t say anything, just stood there, icy and silent. Waiting. “You cancelled the cake order on purpose,” I blurted. Look at me, all awkward, just like old times. “You convinced Mom to start baking again.” How, I had no idea. “You gave my mother her confidence back.” That stuck in my throat, because Vivian gave Mom what I couldn’t. But I wasn’t too proud to admit it. “Thank you.” There, my voice broke. I hoped she was happy.

  Instead of reacting negatively to my weakness, Vivian seemed to soften, just a tiny bit. “Congratulations on the opening of the annex,” she said. “And this successful event. I wish you all the best.”

  I have no idea what moved me, or how I came to be doing it, but an instant after she stopped speaking I was hugging Vivian, and, shockingly, her arms rose and she delicately hugged me back.

  When I let her go, she met my eyes, hers startled. As she turned and disappeared into the bathroom I didn’t follow, instead turning and heading for the kitchen. No way I’d let her see me cry. Or find out I was actually, maybe, starting to respect her.

  Nope, not happening.

  Sure, Fee. Not at all.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Six

  I hugged Pamela and Aundrea in turn, the pair giggling like little girls as they sank to the surface of the king-sized bed in the honeymoon suite.

  “Thank you, Fee,” Aundrea said, teary but smiling. “You’ve made our wedding perfect.” She exchanged a loving look with her wife who smiled back.

  “Fun times, good food, great friends,” Pamela said before winking at me. “Now, get out before you witness something embarrassing.”

  I grinned and closed the door behind me, hugging myself in delight as I left the annex to the night staff—I had nig
ht staff, imagine—and crossed the yard to Petunia’s.

  It seemed so quiet in the main house now, though it was as full as ever, spillover guests and my typical business stocking the rooms both upstairs and in the Carriage House. Still, Petunia’s had a particularly sleepy feel to it, always had, while I found the energy of the annex much more exciting. Maybe it was the wedding guests? Whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to complain or question tonight.

  I passed through the kitchen and into the foyer, finding it full of people, faces I knew and adored, for the most part. Crew stood off to one side, leaning against the entry to the sitting room, chatting with Jill. She was out of uniform, dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, with Matt standing close enough to her I smirked at myself. Jill waved but didn’t stop to talk, leaving a moment later with the ranger holding her hand. Whatever she’d come to tell Crew she’d done her duty and was off to the plans she had for Matt and herself.

  No grinning, Fee. Mind your own business.

  I watched Olivia shoulder past Geoffrey to hug Mom. “Beautiful cake, Lucy,” she gushed. “And the food was extraordinary.” Her eyes met mine, but the mayor made no move to come to offer me congratulations. Instead, with a gracious nod to Dad she turned and left, leaving Geoffrey to watch her go with a barely concealed smirk. He then turned and addressed all of us remaining, as if running for office.

  Which he was, clearly.

  “Well done and congratulations to Fiona, Daisy and Lucy for such an idyllic wedding.” Considering he was married to a Patterson who tried to derail Aundrea’s love life in the first place? He could suck it. “I do hope this bodes well for the future of your venture.” Wait, how did he know I’d asked Mom and Daisy to partner with me? Grrr. He shook Dad’s hand, grinning. “Happy to see you’re still ready and able to defend our town, John.” Whatever that meant. Dad and I still had a conversation ahead about Blackstone, so defending our town? We’d see about that. “And Sheriff Turner.” Geoffrey turned on Crew who straightened slowly from his casual lean, grim expression even more federal agent than previously. “Well done solving yet another horrible crime. Our town owes you a debt.”

  “Thank Fiona,” Crew said without a trace of ego. “She has this knack for murder, it seems.”

  Thanks a lot.

  Geoffrey met my eyes, his cold as a shark, though he continued to smile. “I do hope I can rely on all of you for your support moving ahead.” Wow, dude, way to be blatant about wanting Olivia’s job. “I’m positive each of you has, as I do, only the best of intentions for Reading at heart.”

  No one said a word, though Mom huffed softly like she wanted to. Oddly, it was Petunia who got the last word, grumble mumbling at him for standing there like an ass and not paying any attention to her.

  Geoffrey glanced down at her, frown taking over his smile before he spun and swept his way out of my B&B while I scowled after him.

  I hugged Mom and Dad, happy to see they were smiling, holding hands. They’d mended their fences, apparently, though I’d not been privy to that conversation. Another thing that I needed to keep my nose out of, though they’d forgive me if I held onto a bit of nervous worry they might start fighting again.

  They were my parents and I loved them. They weren’t allowed to get mad at each other ever again.

  Dad kissed my cheek as he and Mom took their leave, though what he whispered left me chilled rather than happy. “Please,” he said. “Leave it be.” I let him go, knew he referred to Siobhan Doyle and the question I’d asked, not the questions I had about Blackstone. There was too much pain in his voice for the latter.

  Surely he had to know I couldn’t do that? I was his daughter, too much a Fleming.

  Whoever she was to him? It was time to find out.

  Jared poked his nose in from the kitchen, grinning at me, coming to hug me as Daisy said goodbye to Mom and Dad. I embraced him back, feeling badly still for him, but seeing the relaxed look on his face, his real joy for his mother, made me unwind just a bit.

  “Carmen and Aiden?” I hated to ask but I needed to know.

  He shrugged like he was over it. “She’s going to try to make a go of it, I guess,” he said. “I told her I’d help after all. Aiden’s gone, but he sold his shares to me instead of the Blackstone Corporation, so she’s good to go if she wants to.”

  I shivered just a little. “Who are they?” Everything about Blackstone gave me the creeps.

  Jared shook his head, frowning a little. “I don’t know, Fee. But I’ll do everything I can to keep them from buying our town. I promise.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Grace knew more than she was saying.” And she wasn’t talking. When Crew brought her in to the station for questioning, me trailing after him still in shock but refusing to go to the hospital until I asked her more about what she knew about Blackstone, the FBI agents waiting there cut off any attempt I could have made to get my answers.

  Crew had known them, that much was obvious, and his frustration at their silence told me volumes. The dark-haired woman who paused at the door like she wanted to talk to him decided against it when her gaze met mine and he didn’t argue when she left. More history, more secrets to uncover.

  As for Philip, he’d been right about the lawyer thing. Crew’s attempts to track and interrogate the liaison were hit hard with so many layers of men in dark suits from Blackstone’s letterhead he backed off, though I could tell it frustrated him to no end.

  Jared hugged me again. “I just wanted to thank you for giving Mom and Pamela their perfect day.” He winked down at me. “There might be another wedding coming up in the near future, so promise me you’ll give us the same treatment when I figure out if Alicia will say yes before I ask her.”

  I laughed in pure delight, kissed his cheek. “Idiot,” I whispered. “She’d marry you right now if you wanted. Don’t let her go.”

  He met my eyes, his damp and cleared his throat, voice thick when he spoke. “Great idea,” he said, and exited back into the kitchen. I just hoped he had a ring in one of his pockets or she’d kick his butt.

  When I turned back around to say goodbye, Daisy squeezed me out of the blue.

  “Love you,” she whispered before arching an eyebrow. Then, with a breezy wave for Crew, she vanished out the front door and closed it softly behind her.

  Leaving us alone together, aside from the quietly humming pug who looked back and forth between me and the sheriff as if anticipating something even I wasn’t sure about.

  I met his blue eyes, held my breath. “Do you miss it?” Um, why was I asking him this now? And could I be a bit more vague? But he seemed to understand what I meant because Crew shrugged.

  “I chose a different road when I left the Bureau and California,” he said, closing the distance between us, smiling, waiting. “One that led me to you.”

  Long exhale. “Would you like to come downstairs?” Fiona Fleming. Giggle.

  His smile was the correct response, though when he took my hand and led me to the door to my apartment, that was kind of perfect, too.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  I passed him a beer, Petunia whining for a treat beside the open fridge door. I sighed and handed her a fist full of blueberries while Crew cracked his drink. I turned back to find him shedding his jacket, tossing it on the sofa, rolling up his sleeves and discarding his tie, the top two buttons on his white dress shirt undone before he took a long drink of his beer.

  His eyes never left mine.

  Oh my goodness.

  I fought for a breath as I sipped from my own bottle, suddenly nervous and so close to giggles I really needed to get a grip already. But it had been a long, long time and the last man I trusted betrayed me to the core of my heart. And yet, despite it all, here I was, willing to trust again. Mind you, Ryan Richards had nothing on Crew Turner.

  Just saying.

  Crew closed the distance between us, setting down his beer bottle, blue eyes distracted by something on the counter next to me. He c
ame to an abrupt halt while my poor heart went pitter pat and tried to exit out my feet at the sharp look of shock on his face. When I glanced toward the object of his newfound attention, I realized he was staring at the cover of The Reading Hoard: Fact or Fiction.

  Huh. What was that all about?

  I laughed a little to lighten the mood. “Daisy and I stole it from the library. Just a little pet project we’re working on.”

  My words seemed to break him out of his surprise, though when he started moving again he didn’t hug me or kiss me or even look at me. Instead, to my (irritation) surprise he instead retrieved the book, holding it carefully and almost reverently in his hands. My eyes drifted from the crinkled plastic protecting the cover to the tattoo on his wrist and, on impulse, I reached out and traced it with my fingertips.

  Crew looked up, blue eyes full of something I couldn’t read. “My grandfather had the same tattoo,” he said, voice husky with emotion. Sorrow? “And my dad.” Definitely loss. I didn’t need to ask for more information. He started talking and kept going, almost too fast for me to keep up. “I got mine when Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” His fingers clenched around the book. “To feel closer to him, to my past.” He laughed then, still sad but full of a kind of wonder that made him look younger than Jared. “I’ve been in Reading before, Fee, did you know that?” He didn’t stop staring at the book. “I even stayed at Petunia’s, with my father. I met you, once. I remember you.” He finally met my eyes. “As a little girl. All that red hair and your temper. You told me off for picking a flower from your grandmother’s garden. I think I was ten?”