An outraged, husky female voice responded. “How dare you? My daughter—my only daughter and beloved community icon—is dead, and you tell me to wait my turn? Why, you—”
Adam and I reached for the door handle at the same time.
I could tell he didn’t want me to go inside first, but good manners kept him from shoving me aside as I blasted by. Besides, with my secret weapon guarding Mom, I didn’t think there’d be much trouble.
“M-Mrs. Pressman…”
Oh, cripes. Ivanna’s mom.
I skidded around the corner.
Amy stood near her office window.
Mom stood in front of a comfortable padded chair.
Doralynn, in all her regal fury, chic black dress and, I kid you not, 1960s-era pillbox hat and veil, loomed across the corner of the huge desk.
Amy, who appeared more like a garden fairy in a whirly green paisley skirt and gauzy blouse, opened her mouth again when she saw more allies had arrived. She didn’t appear a likely match for the bully confronting her. “Mrs. Pressman, we are deeply sorry for your loss—”
Doralynn whirled and set her sights on me. “You!” A black-gloved finger pointed at my nose, making me feel cross-eyed as I tried not to stare at it. “You’re the one, aren’t you, who was there when my poor Ivanna darling died.” Her eyes narrowed. “Ha. That good-for-nothing who murdered her…he thought he was good enough, didn’t he? When my darling sent him packing, you…you…took up with him, didn’t you, scraped him off the sidewalk like so much leftover gum? I wouldn’t put it past the two of you to—”
“Now wait right there!” Mom cut in again.
Adam made a lunge past me into the room, which grew smaller the more bodies it contained.
I was too fascinated by her undulating black net veil to bother to tell Doralynn Stanley had been my fiancé long before he “took up” with Ivanna. What a hoot.
“Doralynn, I warn you,” Adam said. “That’s my fiancée you’re speaking about. Everybody just calm down. You can’t—”
“Can’t what, Mr. Mayor?” Doralynn Pressman drew herself upright and folded her arms. “Come to think of it, you waltzed into town last year and just stole that title for yourself, didn’t you? Poor Margaret—”
“Poor nothing!” A new voice added to the din.
I did a double check as a shadow stepped away from Amy. Ah, the cavalry.
“Margaret Conklin was a menace long before Mr. Thompson moved to Apple Grove,” the young man stated in a professional, no-nonsense, the feds-are-in-charge tone. “Who came at the request of the former mayor, I might add. You want to be careful slinging accusations around like that, Mrs. Pressman. There are witnesses. Slander and libel carry heavy charges.”
Oh, yes. Relief grew.
Elvis was in the building.
~*~
I fanned Mom, who sank slowly into her chair.
Amy went to get water for her.
Elvis and Adam walked the towering rage of Doralynn back to her convertible parked on the flowers. “You were driving erratically,” I heard Adam tell her as their voices and footfalls faded.
“Not so hard, sweetheart,” Mom said, grabbing my wrist. “I’m perfectly all right.” The color was coming back into her cheeks.
I put down the sample combo wedding program and fan. “You sure? What was that all about?”
“I realize you said that young woman had died…but…right before her wedding? It just didn’t seem real until I met her mother.” Mom shook her head. “What a perfectly awful woman. Her daughter might have been a terrible waitress and flirt, but…murder? Before the wedding.”
“Mom, you’re repeating yourself. Oh, here. Thanks, Amy.” I pushed the bottle of cold water into Mom’s hands.
The guys strolled back into the office.
Elvis immediately put his arms around Amy who pushed her perfect little rosy cheek against his. “You OK?”
She nodded, still apparently speechless. She’d dealt with worse problems.
I raised my brows at the expression she wore for Elvis and focused on him. Hmm, on the other hand, a few months of hard work and an impending graduation had certainly done Elvis a good turn. Not that he’d been out of shape before, just a little rough around the edges after serving in the army and eking out a raggedy student life. He cleaned up well with his red curls tamed, his freckles less…showy. He still exuded confidence. If the FBI had recruited him, they would get their money’s worth.
“Did everyone but me know Stanley had dated Ivanna?” I asked.
“Not me,” Elvis said.
“Of course, not you.” I needed a distraction. I waved a jaunty dismissal. “You were apparently busy with learning more than investigation skills.”
He grinned. “Look who’s calling the kettle black.” Then he turned to Adam and shook hands. “Congratulations on the election, sir. You’ll make a fine mayor.”
“Thank you. I keep telling you, you don’t need to be so formal around me. And I understand Apple Grove is gaining a citizen.”
If anything, Elvis grinned wider. “With all the growth coming in, you have need of a print and copy shop. We’ll be getting organized soon.”
Wait a minute! I narrowed my eyes. Elvis knew nothing about printing. His major was criminology and he wanted more than anything to be a G-man. I opened my mouth.
“You never said you were with her when she died,” Mom said, surprisingly not having kept up with the conversation.
“I wasn’t.” I switched gears smoothly after catching the glance between Adam and Elvis. Hey—that was a much better boy band name than Elvis and Stanley.
“But she said, right before accusing you—”
“I found her body, Mom, that’s all. When I delivered her wedding invitations that had mistakenly been sent to me. She was long cold.”
“Not that long,” Adam said. “She’d done her radio show that morning, remember? You were there about 6:00 PM.”
“Missing our dinner date.” I approached him, suddenly needing a hug.
Mom continued to muse. “I don’t understand how, or why, Stanley would do such a thing. He’s hardly the jilted lover type. Not with his weak chin…”
“Receding hairline,” Adam provided.
“Lack of humor,” Mom added.
“That’s enough!” I backed away. “You don’t know him like I do. Sure, he, uh, well, wouldn’t hurt a fly. If he says he didn’t do it, then he didn’t.”
“I think there’s something else you didn’t mention to me, Ivy.” Adam turned me to face him. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been in contact with him recently.”
“How else would I know he’s been arrested? He sent a couple of texts before being hauled in for booking, and another reviewed one through something called Global Tel Link. I guess they’re allowing prisoners—”
Elvis whistled. “People! I came all this way to take this charming woman out for lunch. It’s already eleven thirty, and I believe you have a wedding to plan. Time’s wasting.” He rocked on his heels and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get the show on the road. Amy?” He held her desk chair and seated her like a queen on a throne.
A beautiful, tiny, svelte model with upswept blonde tresses in a neat chignon. Nice job, Elvis. I quirked my mouth at Adam and offered a weak smile.
He held out his hand, which I took, and we sat in the other chairs in front of Amy’s desk.
An hour whizzed by with Mom and Adam, Amy and even Elvis conferring about the wedding menu, a sit-down but family style dinner.
I nodded happily, woozy with love and pride, when they checked with me as if asking my opinion. Something about ribs, or was it prime rib? Potatoes? Sure, we wanted them. Champagne fountain? Absolutely. I couldn’t care less about these details. After going through wedding fervor once and being jilted, I vowed never to get so wrapped up about a wedding ever again. I would have preferred to elope on New Year’s after Adam’s Christmas proposal. This nonsense? It was all for my mother.
Cake…I came back to reality after day-dreamily wafting down the aisle toward the blindingly beautiful tuxedo’d Adam, not tripping over anything, especially the petals Taylor would toss, when I heard the word dessert. “What? What kind of cake?”
Adam laughed and squeezed my hand. “Three layers? Chocolate…”
“Strawberry and vanilla! With cream cheese frosting and chocolate flowers.”
Amy‘s mouth opened and she double-blinked at my announcement.
My mother pursed her lips.
Elvis chuckled.
“Sure. Sure, we can…do that.” Amy recovered and started paging through a catalog of cake pictures. She handed me one. “Like that, only chocolate roses instead?”
The picture had trailing flowers and swirls flowing over tiers of white frosted cake. “Perfect.” I retreated back into la-la land, my perfectly manicured dream hand directing Adam’s strong, sure one, our matching wedding rings twinkling in the photographer’s flash, as we cut the cake and fed each other a piece…
“All set?” Mom’s voice was a splash of cold water.
The others stood, looking at me.
“Yes.” My cheeks warmed as Adam lifted me to my feet. “Just hungry.”
“Lunch, it is!” Mom smiled with the joy of two parents. “I wish your father was here.” She held up a hand. “I believe he’s watching. And with that assurance, I’m content.”
~*~
The blissful day continued from finishing the wedding menu to a nice lunch at a mom-and-pop place in the country Amy recommended. Since she had to return to work, we finished off our evening with take-out from Lo Mah’s and settled in my living room.
Elvis even laid claim to one of the kittens, Three, which he said he would take as soon as he moved into his own place.
“I thought graduation wasn’t until May,” I said.
“That’s when I’ll walk the stage for my diploma.” He sat back, hand absentmindedly stroking a purring furball on his knee. He glanced at Mom. “For the most part I’ve been doing independent studies this semester.”
“He’ll take a final exam,” Mom said with a smile. “He’s all but graduated now.”
“What about the FBI?” I asked.
“Things are in the works,” he said smoothly. “So, tell me more about Mau kittens. What should I expect? How much do I feed him…her?”
Distracted with my second—third—favorite topic after Adam and technology, I hadn’t realized darkness fell.
“Time to hit the road, Elvis,” Mom said a couple of minutes after eight.
Elvis jingled the car keys and saluted me in a cheeky farewell.
“You’re sure you’re all right,” I asked Mom while she gathered all she came with, a sweater and purse, phone and tablet computer.
“Of course.” She pinched my cheek and handed my phone back to me. She liked to reprogram the ring tones, and though she usually did it on the sly when visiting, this time she had no chance to get my phone away from me without my consent. I’d wait until she called again to find out what she’d chosen. “I guess I was just all-out furious and stunned when that woman accused you of conspiring to kill her daughter.” She looked at the hardwood floor of my vestibule. “And Adam of conspiring to kill the former mayor.”
We peered out the glass of the front door.
Adam and Elvis were talking at the curb where Mom’s car was parked.
“He’s such a good man, Ivy. I never understood…” She glanced at me soberly. “Well, perhaps I did. And you’re right, I have no right to be unkind to Stanley. I’ll talk to Elvis on the way home. He’s learned a lot. Maybe he can help. If help is needed.”
We walked out to join the men.
“Good bye, sweetheart. Call me when you need me.” Mom waved as Elvis drove them back north.
Adam and I waved farewell. He put his arm around my waist as we walked back inside. “When you need her, not if.” He chuckled. “Moms. I like yours.”
“I wish yours was better.”
“Me, too.” He kissed my forehead. “She would like you. She does. She smiles when she hears your voice, or your name.”
I preened a bit. “She does. Adam?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s Elvis really doing in Apple Grove?” The longer he hesitated, the sorrier I became for asking. “That’s O—”
He put his finger on my lips. “I love you. You know that?” At my nod, he continued. “I trust you with everything that I am. Can you trust me with Apple Grove business for now?”
I nodded again, and he replaced his finger with his lips.
5
Adam I trusted…honestly. Even if he couldn’t tell me what was going on. If it involved Elvis, it probably had something to do with the FBI, and curiosity got me in enough trouble last year. Stanley, though, was getting a lot more of my think-time than he deserved despite the peaceful weekend respite with Adam and his sister. How could I have come so far as to think the metropolis of Chicago an oasis compared to my adopted home of rural Apple Grove?
Stanley texted twice from jail, well, the two-way messages he was allowed that were screened and sent through a third party, the second time saying his public defender was not on his side.
I tossed my final blanket off at 5:30 AM, sleep no longer working. It had been a few days since Adam and I returned from Chicago and I was no closer to figuring out if or how to help Stanley. I decided to visit the scene of his last known crime. At least, the one he supposedly committed against me last fall when he was trying to get back in my good graces. While apparently two-timing me, with Ivanna who was waitressing at Tiny’s Buffet, before becoming famous on the radio.
Tiny’s Buffet, only there wasn’t an actual buffet except for the selection of cereal boxes and pictures of toast behind the serving counter, opened for business at five. His door wouldn’t chime “Oh what a beautiful morning” like Adam’s at the coffee shop, and the brew in the pot was restaurant-grade fare. But it was the place to be if anyone wanted to know anything that might be happening in Apple Grove. Of course, the news would be mixed with farmer jokes and insider tidbits about families who’d lived in the area since before the Civil War, so I’d learned to pick out relevant parts of gossip. Mostly.
I dressed, still yawning, but too wound up to be excited about a new day, put fresh water out for the cats, and decided to kill two birds with one stone by walking the few blocks downtown. Briskly, to stay warm. A few last stars winked in the rising dawn and streets lights snuffed as light grew.
Apple Grove had a lot going for it, considering it used to be the home of nearly ten thousand people in its heyday. Down to a population of about sixty-five hundred when Adam and I moved last year, things were slowly turning around.
Getting both Feli-Mix, the pet food company, and Happy Hearts, the bio-engineering firm, to build their new operations in Apple Grove had been a crowning achievement for our late mayor. Of all the time put into running our town, smoothing the transition for the businesses took the lion’s share.
But I couldn’t resent a business that catered to pets and provided jobs. Feli-Mix would hire two hundred people to work at the plant next year. I passed five homes with “for sale” signs hanging on front yard posts and squeaking in the breeze. Hopefully these empty houses would once again be filled, more new ones built like those in Ivanna’s neighborhood, and other businesses return and flourish, like a full-sized grocer, maybe a department store. Imagine not having to drive twenty-three miles into Newton for underwear that didn’t come pre-packaged.
I skipped onto the bridge spanning the Founders River, stopping for five seconds to stare at the swirling water before crossing. Adam had hired a summer maintenance force to take care of the weeds and trash. I stared with longing at the back of the old theater. I’d personally love to see the movie house renovated. State’s Bank, a concrete half-circle of bland tones and wall-size blank windows, was the newest addition to Apple Grove. It stuck out like a scab over a gouge at the end of the busin
ess district. I reminded myself to be grateful, and that the vice president, Jeff, was one of Adam’s friends.
Restaurant grease aroma hit me from half a block away. My traitorous stomach growled. Maybe I’d treat myself to one of those gargantuan cinnamon rolls. I’d only eat half to take away the bitter taste of Tiny’s coffee. Or should I have tea? I pushed open the glass door facing Lombardy Avenue and a bell jangled overhead.
Who knew so many Grovers would be up and eating this early? Sure, a few were delivery people. I smiled and waved at two of the guys who brought in supplies to Mea Cuppa. I hauled myself onto a stool at the counter next to Virgil Toynsbee, unofficial chairman of the Good Seeds Core, not Corps, of volunteers. He was somewhere in his seventies, sported receding silvery hair, and possessed the type of authoritative calmness that could quell a hurricane if one ever made it this far into America’s breadbasket. He’d taken over as government emergency manager when the council fell apart last year, and just as quickly thrust power into Adam’s hands the second he was officially elected.
Virgil eyed me over a day-old copy of the Apple Grove Gazette. He pushed half-moon eyeglasses down his long narrow nose. “Sounds as though you stumbled into another fine mess, Miss Ivy.”
I gulped and reached for the steaming ceramic mug of coffee that appeared in front of me. The white apron belonging to the pourer lingered and I latched on to a change of subject like a snail to algae-covered aquarium walls. “Ruby! I didn’t realize you were working here.”
Roberta’s niece sniffed. “Huh. If you’d come in more often, you’d know I started at Christmas time when that stuck-up Ivanna left.”
Virgil put down the paper with a rattle. “Now, little Ruby, the poor woman is dead.”
“Poor! She was rolling in dough. She had no right taking jobs away from those who needed them.” Ruby splashed more coffee into Virgil’s cup and turned away with a flounce.
“Ouch!” I said for his sake as he slowly wiped brown drips from the back of his hand. I looked around for Tiny, who usually anchored the grill, to see if he noticed his employee’s rudeness.
Meow Matrimony Page 4
