Marriage and Murder: Solving for Pie: Cletus and Jenn Mysteries Series Book #2

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Marriage and Murder: Solving for Pie: Cletus and Jenn Mysteries Series Book #2 Page 31

by Penny Reid


  I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect wedding day.

  A knock sounded on the door. A moment later, Billy poked his head in, his eyes closed. “Is everyone decent?”

  Ashley answered for both of us, “Of course. And we’re dressed too.”

  He chuckled, opening his eyes and blinking the room into focus. When his gaze came to me, it widened, and he blinked some more, like I was a sight to behold.

  “Jennifer, you look stunning.” He slipped inside the room, reaching out a hand, which I accepted.

  “She really, really does.” Ashley fussed with the back of my dress. “I had no doubts. No doubts at all.”

  That was a lie. She’d had doubts.

  When Cletus and I had picked them up in Seattle, she’d taken one look at us and said what her entire family had been thinking, “What the hell happened to you two? Are you . . . did you get shipwrecked?”

  The boat we used to ferry everyone over to the San Juan’s was actually my boat, one I’d bought for myself. Over a month before the second wedding, we took a honeymoon trip. Cletus and I launched from New Orleans and navigated to the waters of Washington on our own.

  As it turned out, I loved to fish. And when we’d picked up with Winstons, we probably smelled like fish.

  I’d sold my father’s old boat, his house in the Keys, and a bunch of random investment properties, none of which I’d known existed until Leeward had detailed the extent of my late father’s holdings. After some investigation—because I couldn’t figure out where all the wealth had come from—we discovered my father had been siphoning money from my mother’s business during the entire length of their marriage.

  One of the first things I did after reviewing the holdings with Mr. Leeward was sign back the farms my father had swindled. I also redistributed the monies folks like Roger Gangersworth and Posey Lamont had invested in my father’s farm stay scheme.

  Of course, I couldn’t return the Miller place to Farmer Miller. Ultimately, I decided to send each of his three children a one-third portion of the fair market value and keep the place for myself. The house was in disrepair, but that was no matter. Cletus and Jethro were making plans to knock it down and build something new. But there was no rush. Maybe in another year or two. After I was finished fishing.

  Presently, Billy rolled his lips between his teeth to hide his smile and looked at the carpet. “Uh, Ashley, you’re needed at the beach. I’ve been sent to collect Jenn. It’s time.”

  “Oh!” She stepped back from me, her eyes studying my back before moving to my reflection in the mirror. “You are exquisite perfection. I am—” she glanced down at herself, at the blue dress and white shawl she’d chosen to wear “—also fine. Billy always looks great. Okay!” Clapping her hands together, Ashley gave me one last smile and darted from the room. “See y’all soon.”

  Billy stood still, perfectly so, until he heard the door snick shut, then he released my hand and turned for the closet. “Just give me a minute.” Once there, he pulled out a navy blue bundle, shook it out, and unzipped a zipper at the front of it.

  When I realized what it was, I gasped, and then I laughed. “That’s—are you putting on coveralls?”

  He nodded. “Everyone else already has theirs on. Cletus waited until Ashley was in here with you. I just need to . . .” he trailed off, removing his stunning jacket and tie, laying both on the bed carefully. He toed off his shoes and stepped into the Dickies coveralls.

  “He is—” I shook my head and laughed some more. “I love him so much.”

  “Thank God for that,” Billy mumbled. He finished pulling on the coveralls, zipped it up, and now shoved his feet into rubber boots that had been stored under the bed. “If I’m being honest, I’m actually grateful to Cletus. I didn’t want to wear any part of that suit on the beach, or the shoes. These pants are old, I didn’t figure Ashley would notice.”

  If my momma had been here, she would’ve had a conniption fit, and that thought made me want to both laugh and cry.

  My mother was still a wanted woman. Even after everything that happened with Elena, she was still the prime suspect in my father’s murder. Cletus and I had failed to find the gun we were now sure Miller had hidden somewhere. If we did—no, when we did—I felt certain it would have Elena’s prints on it. Perhaps then my mother could come home.

  Of course, that’s assuming she’d be willing to leave Jason.

  I’d kept her house, but we’d put it up for rent. Also, about ten months ago, I’d officially handed over the day-to-day business of the lodge to my mother’s trusted second-in-command, Monsieur Auclair. He supervised the lodge’s renovations, I resumed running the bakery once I felt up to it, and we met over coffee and madeleines once a week to review accounts, status reports, and staffing decisions.

  Cletus continued managing the dairy. He sometimes joined our weekly meetings, but usually only piped up when asked about the status of the cows. I suspect he just really enjoyed the madeleines, coffee, and listening to me give directions and be bossy.

  The latter portion of this suspicion was confirmed when Cletus, dressed in a tailored suit, suggested we role-play one evening and gestured to a business outfit in my size he’d placed on the bed.

  “You’re the boss, and I’m the subordinate,” he’d said with entirely too much twinkle in his eye.

  This whole “subordinate” business lasted about three minutes before he took over and . . . yeah. I’m sure y’all can guess how that ended up.

  Currently, I nodded, because what else could I do about the groomsmen wearing Dickies? Besides, I didn’t care. I thought it was funny.

  I crossed to the bed and picked up my bouquet. “Well, shall we?”

  “Just—just a minute.” Billy reached into one of the zippered pockets of his coveralls and pulled out a velvet box. He then walked over to me, his eyes looking proud as they conducted another sweep. “When my grandmother got married to my grandfather Oliver, she had no family there. She was an orphan, or so the story goes, and brought nothing to the marriage but herself. So, my great grandfather gave her a necklace.”

  He paused, opening the velvet box and revealing a white gold or platinum necklace, the chain comprised of delicate but wide filigree sections with diamonds set in star shapes at each of the links.

  The necklace was so beautiful, I gasped.

  I mean, I gasped like no one had ever gasped before.

  I then coughed because I’d gasped so hard.

  “I—I’m—sorry—sorry.” As I coughed I was careful to keep my neck perfectly still. It still gave me trouble.

  Even after being discharged from physical therapy, I still saw an acupuncturist, massage therapist, and chiropractor for my back. My neck hurt sometimes. My legs ached right before a big rainstorm at night, but not during the day. We kept the special cabinets and countertop Cletus and Jethro had built in the bakery which allowed for wheelchair access, and sometimes Cletus would borrow my old crutches “for reasons.” I never asked why, not sure I wanted to know.

  But I did always ask Cletus how his day was, because I always wanted to know.

  Billy watched me as I choked and sputtered, his eyes full of concern, giving my back a tiny pat and rub. He walked over to the dresser to pour me a glass of water. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to injure you moments before you walk down the aisle.”

  “I’m okay,” I rasped, accepting the glass gratefully. Once I’d caught my breath and trusted myself to speak, I shook my head. “Billy, I can’t—I can’t accept this.”

  “I don’t care if you accept it or not, Jenn. It’s yours.” He moved to step behind me, and in the edge of my vision I saw him take the necklace out of the box before he disappeared. The next thing I knew, I felt him drape it around my neck.

  “Kind of like,” he continued, his voice quiet and distracted as he concentrated on the clasp, “it doesn’t matter if you accept us or not. We’re yours. All of us. I hope you know, you now have six brothers and four sisters.” />
  I breathed in through my nose, working to keep my mind from correcting him, because he was right. I didn’t have seven brothers, I had six. Drew, Billy, Jethro, Duane, Beau, and Roscoe. Not Isaac.

  I’d rarely seen Isaac since the accident. Sometimes I’d catch a glimpse of him around town, but it was unusual. I couldn’t quite work out why, but discovering his undercover status had seriously fried my gizzards. He’d been in town all that time, not actually an Iron Wraith, and had chosen to have no relationship with me or my mother, deceiving us.

  Perhaps he was “one of the good guys,” but I no longer thought of him as “a good guy.”

  However, maybe because I have a soft heart and maybe because I really am a little soft in the head, I portioned out some of my father’s money and planned to combine it with a percentage of the yearly profit from the lodge. I put it all in a trust for my brot—I mean, for Isaac—to inherit upon his thirty-fifth birthday. I also kept it a secret from him.

  If he could keep secrets, well then so could I.

  When Billy finished fastening the necklace, he came back around to face me, his attention where the precious metal and diamonds lay against the lace of my dress. “There now. I know you’re not an orphan, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this belongs to you.” He grinned, looking pleased until he lifted his eyes to mine. “Are those tears because you were choking? Or did I just make you cry?”

  My chin wobbled, so I had to firm it and look away before I could respond, “You just made me cry.”

  “Aw.” He chuckled, his gaze impossibly fond as he placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Please don’t cry. Ashley will kill me if you ruin all that stuff painted around your eyes.”

  That made me laugh, and he laughed, and the tears stopped, and we both sighed.

  He reached for the water glass, which I relinquished, and set it back on the dresser. He then moved into position at my side and offered his arm. “You ready?”

  Instead of responding, I said, “Thank you, Billy.”

  He glanced down at me, a question in his eyes.

  I answered before he asked. “Thank you for walking me down the aisle. Thank you for being Cletus’s best man—twice. Thank you for this necklace. Thank you for welcoming me into your family, from the very start. Thank you for never thinking I was ridiculous, for always treating me like—” I had to stop, because if I didn’t, I’d start crying all over again.

  Billy’s eyes turned liquid, and he covered my hand where it rested on his elbow. “Thank you, Jenn.”

  I sniffled, a burst of laughter—at myself for succumbing to waterworks on my second wedding day—coming from my lips. “What for?”

  “For loving Cletus,” he said, his tone serious, solemn, like maybe he’d worried for his brother once upon a time. Like maybe he’d spent sleepless nights hoping and praying Cletus found someone with whom to share his life, like it was a possibility that Cletus would end up alone while the others paired off, and that I’d been an answer to that prayer.

  “Don’t thank me for that.” I laughed, wrinkling my nose and shrugging. “You know I can’t help myself.”

  “That’s how I know you’re worthy of him. He feels the same.” He pressed my hand tighter to his arm, walking us to the door as he added, “And that’s how I know he’s worthy of you.”

  I did cry again. But this time, I hadn’t been able to stop myself. Ashley didn’t kill me for ruining the paint around my eyes, probably because she also cried. In fact, most everybody wiped away a few tears when I spotted my mother standing in the matron of honor spot instead of Ash.

  Yeah. I lost it. And poor Billy had to deal with me gasping again. I didn’t cough, but I did rush down the aisle to hug my mother.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, baby. Shh. Don’t cry,” she choked out, holding me tight. “You look so beautiful. I missed you so much. Stop crying,” she sobbed.

  And I laughed, because it was such a my mother thing for her to do: tell me not to cry while she was crying.

  Eventually, we separated, and we smiled at each other, and I felt the loss of her over the last year acutely, in every moment we’d been apart. But I also felt the joy in our reunion, and that almost—almost—made up for it.

  “Your husband is responsible,” she said, pulling a hankie from her sleeve and dabbing at my eyes. “Now, come on. No more tears. This is about you and Cletus.”

  On cloud nine, I turned and looked at Cletus whose eyes were also bright as they met mine. He wore navy blue Dickies coveralls with a light blue tie; his hair was a curly mess, tousled by the breeze; his beard was still bushy despite being trimmed; and his smile was huge.

  He looked absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.

  “Are you surprised?” he whispered, bending his head toward mine and taking my hand.

  Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded. Tangentially, I was aware of Billy taking his place next to Cletus, and the celebrant—a boat captain we’d befriended during our travels—giving us both a happy grin, ready to get started.

  But I couldn’t see past this wonderful, sneaky, clever, sinister, handsome man, who still wanted to marry me every single day.

  Not caring that it wasn’t time yet, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I kissed him.

  Our love story might’ve been a little mixed up. Some folks might even call it weird. I’d threatened and blackmailed him. We’d become friends. We’d fallen in love. We’d made love. We’d become engaged, sorta. We’d become engaged for real. I’d almost died, a few times. We’d married, waited a year, took a honeymoon, and now we were getting married again.

  But that was us. This story was ours. We were weird.

  I was so glad I’d stayed away from the normals, because I wouldn’t have traded being weird with Cletus for being normal with absolutely anyone else.

  -THE END-

  * * *

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  About the Author

  Penny Reid is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Winston Brothers, Knitting in the City, Rugby, Dear Professor, and Hypothesis series. She used to spend her days writing federal grant proposals as a biomedical researcher, but now she just writes books. She’s also a full time mom to three diminutive adults, wife, daughter, knitter, crocheter, sewer, general crafter, and thought ninja.

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  * * *

  Read on for:

  1. Sneak Peek: Beard In Hiding, A Green Valley Novella, by Penny Reid

  2. Penny’s Booklist

  Sneak Peek: Beard In Hiding

  A Green Valley Novella, by Penny Reid

  Author’s note: This scene takes place immediately after the action of ‘Beard Science’ and ‘Beard In Mind,’ but a few weeks before ‘Engagement and Espionage,’ and one year (plus a few months) prior to ‘Marriage and Murder.’

  * * *

  Chapter One

  “The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.”

  Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

  *Jason*

  “You drinking?”

  I gave Burro a short nod, not bothering to remove my jacket. I had no plans to stay. “Whiskey, the usual.”

  He didn’t move. When I glanced up, I found the bartender studying me. “What’s the news? Are Romeo’s boys finally going to cooperate? Did Christine get to Beau?”

  Peeling off my leather gloves, I stuffed them in my pocket and reach
ed for a napkin. “None of your business.”

  “So, that’s a no.” Finally, he moved, reaching for the whiskey bottle reserved just for me and filling a tumbler. He then grabbed a different bottle—his preferred brand of gin—and filled a shot glass, clinking the two together before handing my tumbler over. “Merry Christmas. Looks like things are about to get tight around here.”

  “No,” I ground out. “We’ve known for a while Beau was a long shot. We have other leads.”

  Burro tossed back his drink. “All the same, Merry Christmas.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?”

  “Yep. Christmas Eve today.” He filled his shot glass again and tucked the gin back under the counter. “Twenty-fourth of December. Comes around once a year.”

  A ruckus sounded near the entrance followed by an odd hush. I ignored it. I’d noticed upon walking in that the bar seemed more crowded than usual for 5:00 PM, even for a Saturday. For whatever reason, the younger guys gathered in droves on holidays, preferring the Dragon to The Plank, or one of the strip clubs. Christmas in particular was a hard time for recruits who came from families with traditions.

  I hadn’t come from a family. I had no traditions. Holidays were just another day. But with so many boys crowded in the room, seeking out merriment, it’d be a good day to catch up on paperwork.

  Stepping back from the bar, intent on vacating the main room before more boys wandered in, I grabbed my drink and pointed at the whiskey still out on the bar top. “Hide that, please. Don’t let Wolf see it out. He’ll drink the whole bottle.”

  Again, Burro didn’t move. His eyes, which had grown wide and round, appeared to be preoccupied by something behind me. Oh well. I had another bottle in my room. Time to go. Banks were closed on Christmas and the Monday after. If I sent my emails tonight, I couldn’t expect any answers until Tuesday. But at least it would be—

 

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