by Fiona Grace
Lacey blinked with surprise, not just because of Superintendent Turner’s uncharacteristic concern over being teased at his retirement party, but because of his revelation that the last person arrested was now free.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked. “Do you mean Marcus Moyles has been released?”
He nodded. “Released on bail.”
“But he confessed to trying to steal Greg’s gold!” she cried.
“He did,” Karl replied. “And yet surveillance footage from the Lodge shows him fast asleep at his table for half the night until his wife arrives and drags him home.”
“He lied?” Lacey questioned, struggling to comprehend it herself. “Why?”
“Probably an alcohol-induced fantasy,” Karl Turner explained. “A drunk dream. Delusions of grandeur. Whatever his reason for saying he did it, we have irrefutable proof he didn’t.”
Lacey was dumbstruck. If Marcus was innocent on all counts, then that could only mean the likelihood of Professor Noble being the killer became even greater. She shuddered at the close proximity she’d spent with a man who was capable of murder.
“But wait,” she said, remembering something. “You said there was evidence of a break-in. A damaged door. How does that get explained?”
“That was… historic damage,” Superintendent Turner said, his demeanor becoming suddenly shifty. “Ours, in fact,” he added. His cheeks were starting to turn pink. “The manager there kindly reminded us of the time our SWAT team swarmed the place…”
Lacey gasped, remembering the arrest of Eldritch Von Raven—a case of mistaken identity—and just how furious Suzy had been with her over the whole thing. “Oh. That.”
“Exactly,” Superintendent Turner replied, coughing awkwardly into his fist.
Lacey turned it all over in her mind. “So Marcus has nothing to do with anything?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“So that makes Crispin Noble the prime suspect?”
“It does.”
She nodded slowly, digesting it all. She couldn’t help but feel slightly stung that the man had duped her. She’d welcomed him into her store in good faith and he’d betrayed her.
“I guess having a suspect in custody isn’t enough to give me my wedding back. You’ll need a solid confession before you let me leave town, right?”
Karl peered down at her from his six-foot-high frame. “Lacey, you can have your ceremony,” he said calmly.
“What?” Lacey gasped. Was this another one of his jokes? “Are you being serious?”
“Yes. The case is as good as solved.”
Lacey was so thrilled, she threw her arms around Karl. He chuckled as she clung to him, and patted her back awkwardly.
“Thank you,” Lacey cried.
Superintendent Turner harrumphed and removed her arms from around his neck.
Lacey wiped the tears of happiness from her eyes. “I don’t know how to ever repay you.” Then she paused. “Yes, actually, I do. You should come.”
Karl’s eyes widened. “Come to…”
“My wedding,” she blurted. Maybe she was just delirious with joy, but she suddenly wanted the big polar bear of a man at her wedding. It felt like the perfect way to draw a line under the sand of their previously antagonistic relationship.
Karl’s gray brows flew up to his hairline. “You’re inviting me to your wedding?”
“Yes!” Lacey exclaimed. “We know each other pretty well these days, don’t we, Karl? It’s been a year since I first started making trouble for you. And since you’re about to retire, I won’t be that pesky, meddling woman getting in the way of your investigations anymore. I can just be a friend. Or an acquaintance if you prefer,” she added hurriedly, in response to his near-panicked look at her mention of the “f” word. “One step at a time.”
Karl was silent for a moment. Then he coughed, as if dislodging a lump of emotion from his throat.
“Sure, kid,” he said, finally, his voice cracking. “I’ll come to your wedding.”
Lacey’s heart soared. She was elated. Things were finally back on track! A suspect was in the jail. She’d been given the green light for the wedding to go ahead. And while she’d not been able to share her pregnancy fears with Tom, she had offloaded to Gina, and that had taken a significant amount of the burden from her shoulders. Everything was almost back to being okay.
All except one thing. She still had her mess of a family to deal with.
The dinner had been cancelled, and she’d successfully managed to use the murder and the scepter as excuses not to deal with them. But now the time had come to finally resolve that issue. It was finally time for the family reunion dinner.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Lacey’s stomach was a knot of apprehension as she entered the restaurant. Not even the gentle piano music and soft lighting could calm her nerves. This was going to be one heck of an experience.
She approached the server’s stand, knees trembling.
“I have a booking,” she said to the woman waiting behind it.
Her eyes went past the server’s shoulder apprehensively, scanning the dining area behind. The lighting was low, and among the dozen green-leather, curved booth–style seating areas, at least half of them were filled with guests. Lacey spotted her mom and Naomi at the far end, lit by a small candle on the table and a low-hanging, industrial-style light fixture hanging from the ceiling above. Frankie wasn’t there. And, more importantly, neither was Frank.
“Oh. There they are,” Lacey added, pointing them out.
“Right this way,” the server replied, genially, collecting a menu for Lacey as she stepped away from the podium.
Lacey followed. She was relieved to have gotten there before her father, and was glad Naomi had made the wise decision to leave Frankie at Crag Cottage with Gina. It was time for the grown-ups to talk things through. Although, considering what had happened last time they’d all been together, Lacey suspected there’d be less talking and more yelling. She cringed in anticipation of an imagined future where all the diners she was currently weaving her way past were staring at her with astonishment.
“Here you go,” the server said, gesturing to the spare seat next to Naomi.
Lacey slid into it. “Hi, guys,” she said. “Thanks for coming.”
Shirley didn’t look best pleased. Naomi looked like she was already close to tears.
The server passed the menu to Lacey. “Are you ready to order?”
“Not yet,” Lacey said. “We’re still waiting for one.”
Shirley scoffed. “And we might be waiting for thirty years if history’s anything to go by.”
The server frowned with confusion, and Lacey’s cheeks grew warm. Shirley was already in a bad mood, and it was making her more tense.
“Perhaps you’d like to order some drinks?” the server asked.
“Yes,” Naomi said rapidly. “Wine!”
“Of course,” the polite server replied. “What type?”
“Just whatever you have that’s strong,” Naomi answered. “None of this eleven percent rosé stuff.”
“She means what color,” Lacey said under her breath. She was finding this all rather embarrassing.
“I don’t care,” Naomi replied. “Just as long as it has a high percentage. I need some Dutch courage.”
Lacey looked up at the server and smiled sheepishly as she handed back the wine menu. “I guess we’ll take a bottle of your finest, strongest wine in that case.”
The server took the menu back off Lacey, trying her best to hide an amused smile at her unconventional guests. “Coming right up,” she said, before hurrying away.
Lacey’s toes curled at the thought of her returning to the kitchen and retelling the story to the cooks.
“So,” Shirley began as soon as she was gone. “The forest ceremony is back on, is it?”
She sounded far from thrilled. Lacey frowned with confusion. “It is… I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Yes, of course,” Shirley replied bluntly. “I just would’ve preferred not to have spent all day trying to convince the harpist to bring her gold concert harp onto a sandy beach… She was quite rude about the change, by the way. Apparently the sand gets in the mechanism and the salty air can warp the soundboard or something like that. Not that it matters now. But I might leave off telling her we’re back to the forest again for the time being. Let her stew for a while.”
Lacey grimaced with guilt. “I’m really sorry, Mom. That can’t have been very pleasant for you.”
Shirley pouted. “I guess it doesn’t matter now. All’s well that ends well.”
Lacey smiled with gratitude. “I am sorry though. I know it’s all been a bit of a nightmare, and I appreciate everything you’ve done to try and pull this together.”
“If the wedding’s back on,” Naomi asked, “does that mean the case has been solved?”
Lacey nodded. “All done. Well, pretty much. They have someone in custody, an archaeological scholar.”
Naomi frowned. “A scholar? Not what you expect from a murderer.”
“No,” Lacey replied, conjuring an image of the professorial Crispin Noble in her mind’s eyes—gray duffle coat, nerdy black and yellow striped scarf. “Or a Hufflepuff…”
For the first time since his arrest, something about Crispin being the murderer didn’t quite sit right with Lacey. But she forced the thought away. It was over to the detectives now to get a confession out of him. She’d done her part.
Shirley opened her mouth—about to offer her two cents on the case, no doubt—but stopped as her eyes went over Lacey’s shoulder. Lacey turned in her chair to see Frank at the podium talking to the server.
Lacey’s heart skipped a beat.
“He’s here,” she said, turning back to her family.
Naomi immediately began to fidget in her seat. She drummed her fingers nervously on the table top, her gaze darting all around the restaurant. “Where’s the wine?” she muttered.
Lacey could tell she was nervous about the meeting with her long-lost father, and she felt sympathy for her sister.
“Good evening,” came Frank’s voice from beside them.
Everyone turned to face him.
“Hi, Dad,” Lacey said, jumping up. It was for the best if she was the leader here. She was the person on the most neutral ground, after all, the one who actually wanted them all to come together.
Frank kissed her cheek. “Hello, darling.” He looked past her to Naomi and Shirley, neither of whom had moved a muscle. “Hi, ladies,” he tried.
Shirley averted her eyes with a pout. Naomi’s bottom lip quivered.
It was a cold welcome, and Frank’s expression dropped, causing a knot of apprehension to tighten in Lacey’s stomach. She offered him a smile of encouragement and lowered herself back down to sitting. Frank slid into the space beside her, and a tense silence fell over the table.
How many years had it been since all four of them had sat around a table like this? Lacey wondered. And then, with curiosity, she wondered whether everyone else was thinking the same thing?
Just then, the server returned to the table with the bottle of wine. “Oh look,” she said, in a friendly manner as she gently put it on the table. “You’re here. And it didn’t take thirty years after all.”
Lacey’s stomach plummeted. Her father’s face fell. Naomi gasped and put her hand up to her mouth. Shirley seemed so stunned she didn’t even react.
The server didn’t seem to notice that she’d completely put her foot in it. She laid out the wine glasses, one in front of each of them. When she got to Naomi she said, “This is the strongest wine I could find. I hope fourteen percent gets you through.”
Lacey cringed, all the way from her toes to the tips of her hair. Naomi went immediately red and buried her head into her hands. Frank gazed at her with a hurt look on his face. He was no fool—it was obvious she’d asked for the strongest wine to get through the meal.
This time, Shirley did react. She snorted out a tense kind of laugh, and the server looked at her. Finally, the server took in all the tense, stunned expressions around the table.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” she asked, looking suddenly worried.
“No, it’s fine,” Lacey said, hurriedly.
Shirley let out another snort of laughter. “Nothing that hasn’t already been said before.”
“Mom, please,” Lacey warned under her breath.
The server looked at them all, seemingly finally understanding that this was more than just your usual family meal out, that there was some unspoken tension going on. “I’m sorry,” she said rapidly before scurrying away without taking their orders.
Lacey felt terrible for her. It wasn’t her fault. She thought she’d been making friendly conversation, not dredging up old wounds.
“I owe you all an apology,” Frank suddenly blurted.
Every pair of eyes turned to him with shock. No one had expected him to cut straight to the chase like that, and it took them all by surprise.
“And an explanation.”
His expression was stolid, but Lacey could read the pain and regret in his eyes. Her heart skipped. Was this it? The moment she finally learned what had lured her father away from her all those years ago?
“Here?” she asked, looking all around her. “Now?”
Frank nodded. “It’s time.”
Shirley grabbed the wine bottle and poured herself a glass, before promptly downing it. “This will be good,” she said.
But suddenly, Naomi leaned forward and laid her hand on top of her father’s. “Can we just leave it at an apology?” she asked.
Frank looked stunned. He glanced down at her hand on his, then turned his so it was palm up and squeezed. “You…don’t want to know why?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. Not right away. I’m just… I’m not ready yet. Mom might be. Lacey might. But I’m not. So can we just eat this meal and catch up, and then go to the wedding tomorrow and drink too much prosecco and dance to the macarena? And then, once I’m home and the dust has settled and everything is back to normal, then can we talk about it? One on one.”
Lacey felt a surge of pride for her younger sister’s courage. Accepting Frank even existed had been hard enough for her. And now standing her ground and expressing where she was at so eloquently was a moment to behold.
“But—” Frank began.
“I agree,” Lacey blurted, throwing her own opinion into the fray.
Whatever it was that had lured her father away from her all those years ago—be it the love of another woman, the cliffs of Wilfordshire, or something darker and more sinister—knowing would hurt. And knowing it now, just before he was to walk her down the aisle, would bring nothing but pain.
“I don’t know what to say,” Frank said.
Lacey thought of the strong silent presence of Brother Benedict, who had put her at ease by removing all the social pressure of making conversation and keeping up appearances. She grabbed her father’s other hand and squeezed.
“Say nothing,” she said. “That’s what we’re asking. There’s nothing you need to say. We just want you to be present. Just be here.”
Frank looked astonished. His eyes darted from his elder daughter’s hand to his younger daughter’s and back again, as if he couldn’t truly comprehend what he was seeing. He began to tear up.
He opened his mouth to speak, and then, as if taking heed of Lacey’s words, he closed it again and let out a long exhalation. It sounded like he’d released a breath he’d been holding for a very, very long time. Perhaps for thirty years.
“I want to know,” Shirley suddenly said from across the table. “But we can talk, just the two of us. After. Without the girls. And I promise not to tell them what you tell me. They deserve to hear it from you.”
Everyone looked at her. For the first time, she seemed to understand that this was greater than her. That on this one occasion, she had to put oth
ers’ needs before her own.
“Then that’s what we’ll do, Shirley,” he said with a firm nod.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“How was he?” Naomi asked Gina as she and Lacey returned to Crag Cottage after the meal.
Gina gestured to the sleeping Frankie on the couch. “A delight. He helped me feed the sheep, prune the bushes, rake the soil. He’s quite the gardener.”
“That will be his next obsession,” Naomi said with a loving smile. She went inside to rouse her son. “Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s get you up to bed.”
Frankie took her hand and they left the room together.
“I’m going to bed too,” Shirley said from the doorway.
Lacey approached her. “Thank you, Mom,” she said. “I know the last few days have been really tough on you. And I really appreciate you agreeing to leave all the heavy talk until after the wedding.”
Shirley nodded. “I just want you to have the perfect wedding you always deserved. To the perfect man.” She swept Lacey’s dark curls behind her shoulder with a tender hand. “I’m proud of you, Lacey, for being brave enough to trust again. I never could.”
She sounded wistful. Lacey felt for her. She’d never gotten over Frank’s betrayal.
Shirley headed toward the living room.
“Mom?” Lacey said. “Aren’t you going to bed?”
“Yes, in here,” Shirley replied. “I don’t think you should have to sleep over at Gina’s on the night before your wedding. You take the guest room.”
Lacey smiled. “Thanks. Good night, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Shirley went inside the living room and shut the door softly.
Lacey turned to Gina. “What a day,” she said under her breath. “I have a LOT to tell you.”
The two women headed into the kitchen.
“Want a drink?” Gina suggested as they entered.
“I’d better not,” Lacey said, looking down at her stomach and thinking of the pregnancy scare. “You know. In case…”
Just then, Gina placed something on the counter in front of her. It was a pregnancy test.
