Honeymoon for Three

by Alan Cook

  He might have felt funny waiting here with Penny on the courthouse steps, with both of them dressed in their wedding clothes, if another couple hadn’t been doing the same thing. Apparently this was normal for Reno.

  A uniformed policeman walked up the steps toward them. Well, this was the courthouse. He was undoubtedly here as a witness for a trial. Gary thought he was going to walk around them to the front entrance when he stopped and said, “Which one of you is Gary Blanchard?”

  “I am,” Gary said.

  “I need to ask you a few questions. Come with me, please.”

  “Questions about what?”

  “I’ll let you know when we get to the police station.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want to have to put the cuffs on you.”

  “What’s going on?” Penny asked, fear in her voice.

  “Routine questions,” the officer said.

  “I’m going along.” Penny walked down the steps with them.

  “Sorry, miss. Can’t take you in the patrol car.”

  “Where’s the police station?”

  “On Second Street. Up that way and turn right.”

  “Keys. I don’t have the car keys,” Penny almost screamed.

  Gary reached into his pocket. Then he saw the officer make a movement toward the gun strapped to his belt. He said, “My keys are in this pocket.”

  The officer watched him warily as he pulled out the keys and handed them to Penny. She looked so frightened that he said, “It must be a misunderstanding. Don’t worry. I’ll get it cleared up.” His voice sounded shaky, even to himself.

  The officer opened the back door of a patrol car that was sitting at the curb. Gary slid into the recesses where there were no door handles or window cranks and a metal screen separated him from the front seat. The door slammed shut.

  ***

  Alfred looked approvingly at his reflection in the mirror of the barber shop. He saw a different person. His beard was gone; his hair was as short as Gary’s. If that’s the kind of person Penny liked, that’s the kind of person he was going to be.

  He thanked the barber and tipped him. He walked out of the shop to the clothing store the barber had told him about, determined to upgrade his wardrobe. It was only a few doors away. Once inside, he quickly found two decent-looking, long-sleeved sport shirts on sale. He held them against his body in front of a mirror, not wanting to take the time to try them on. Then he found a pair of washable pants in his size.

  The only problem was that his body didn’t look like Gary’s. He had this potbelly, and he was at least six inches shorter than Gary. Not to mention his outie bellybutton. He hoped Penny would come to her senses and leave Gary. A nice girl like her wouldn’t want to be associated with a jailbird. He would show her that external looks were superficial.

  Alfred had watched the drama unfold from his parked car. He retreated there after telling the story to the receptionist at the chapel. He saw Gary being driven away in the police car. Penny remained, alone and vulnerable, left at the altar in her wedding dress. She looked as if she might cry. He had an urge to confront her right then and there—to console her, to let her know he cared about her.

  Something inside told him that would backfire. Then she got into the VW and drove after the police car, and the opportunity was gone. That’s when he knew he had to change his appearance. Leaving his car parked where it was, he found the barber shop by asking a clerk in a store.

  The barber had told him where the police station was located. He carried his package of clothes back to the car and drove to the police station. He parked a block away and put on his new pants and one of his new shirts in the car. The receptionist at the chapel wouldn’t recognize him now. He donned dark glasses to complete the transformation.

  Alfred walked to the police station. In its parking lot he saw the Volkswagen. He was glad and sad at the same time. Glad because he knew where Penny was. Sad because she hadn’t left that jailbird yet. He took up a position across the street from the police station to await developments.

  ***

  Penny had never been inside a police station before. She didn’t like it. Most of the people who came in looked like losers. They had the haunted appearance of victims. Victims of crime, victims of being associated with criminals, either by blood or romantically, which was worse because they were in the relationship by choice.

  She sat on a wooden bench, conspicuous in her wedding dress, waiting for information. She had been told nothing. The officers on duty would tell her only that Gary was being questioned. About what? Had he not told her everything? Was there a dark secret lurking in his past? It was hard to believe, and yet she supposed it was possible. She put her head in her hands.

  “You look like you got a problem, honey.”

  Penny lifted her head and saw the woman who had sat down beside her. She was double the size of Penny and wore a black dress the same color she was. She looked like the mammy that Penny’s grandfather had had, at least based on how he had described her.

  “You don’t belong here, neither,” the woman continued. “Wearing that fancy white dress and all.”

  “I’m supposed to get married today.” Penny’s voice faltered.

  “That do looking like a wedding dress. What happened, your man get busted?”

  “He’s being questioned, but I don’t know about what.” She wanted to place her head against this woman’s ample bosom, be enveloped in her huge arms, and make the world go away.

  “Well, one of two things is going to happen. Either way, it’s for the best. Either he’s innocent or he’s guilty. If he’s innocent, you can go ahead and get married. If he’s guilty, it’s better you find out now. I know because I been through it. More than once.”

  This made a strange sort of sense. The woman’s name was Rowanda. She began talking about her own husbands—plural. Right now she was here because her son was in trouble. As Penny listened to her sad story, she felt a little bit better about her own situation. Then she remembered Emily.

  When Rowanda paused in her story, Penny said, “I may be jinxed. My best friend was murdered a year ago, just before she was going to get married. She would have been the perfect wife. Sometimes I have the feeling that because she couldn’t get married, I can’t either.”

  “That’s silly talk.” Rowanda took Penny’s hand in her own baseball gloves and patted it. “If the Lord means for you to be married, you will get married. It don’t matter what happened to your friend.”

  ***

  Gary didn’t know why the young police officer whose badge said his name was McGinty and who had thick eyebrows that gave him a perpetual scowl kept asking him about Kentucky. He had never even been to Kentucky, as he tried to point out. He certainly hadn’t killed anybody there.

  “I grew up in Western New York—near Buffalo.” This wasn’t the first time he had said it. “That’s where my parents live. They’re both alive. You can call them and verify it.”

  “We’ve been calling the number you gave us. There’s no answer.”

  Gary suddenly remembered that his parents were in Europe. He had completely forgotten that. His heart sank. Who else could vouch for him? His brother, Tom, was a grad student at Harvard. He was in L.A. for the summer, working as a FORTRAN programmer for an aerospace company. He lived in an apartment, but Gary didn’t know his phone number. The youngest of the three brothers, Archie, was with his parents. He had just finished his undergraduate work and was taking some time off before getting serious about life.

  Gary’s aunt and uncle were the best possibilities. He had lived with them during his senior year of high school. He knew the phone number of their farm house well. They might be home today, since it was Saturday. With the three-hour time difference between here and New York, it would be late afternoon there.

  Gary gave an “I completely forgot that my parents are in Europe” excuse to McGinty. It sounded lame. He told the officer to call his aunt and uncle and gave him t
he phone number at the farm. McGinty wrote down the information and went out of the room, leaving him alone.

  The wooden chair was uncomfortable. The room was dismal. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he was starving. His white shirt was wet with sweat under his arms, and not just from the afternoon heat. Even if he were let go, would Penny still want to marry him? Would he want to marry her if the situation were reversed?

  McGinty returned, holding Gary’s driver’s license. “These things can be faked.” He looked at the license from various angles, as if searching for some elusive truth. “Make it easy on yourself. Tell me how you killed your parents.”

  Gary stared at the officer with the neck as wide as his head. Certainly not somebody to get into a fight with. And he was taking a bull-in-the-china-shop approach with his questioning. A young man, trying to make a name for himself. What did you do when you were telling the truth but you weren’t believed? Make up a lie that would be better received? Should he say that he had chopped them up with an ax, a la Lizzie Borden? He didn’t answer.

  “What’s your real name?”

  “My real name is Gary Blanchard.”

  “How long have you lived in California?”

  “Four years. Well, four and a half years.”

  The questions were getting repetitive. He stole a glance at his watch. One forty-five. He had been here almost an hour. Where was Penny? Poor Penny. She must be either worried sick or ready to dump him. McGinty asked some more questions. Then he apparently became tired of questioning him and left the room again.

  It seemed like a long time before the door opened and McGinty returned. He said, almost reluctantly, “You’re free to go.”

  Gary was stunned. He wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.

  “We talked to your aunt. She verified everything you told us. She said your father works for the city of Buffalo. She confirmed your address in L.A. The only thing is, she didn’t know you were getting married today.”

  “We were planning to send her a telegram.”

  “And one more thing. We got an answer to our query from the Kentucky state police. They’re not looking for any kids who offed their parents.”

  “Who told you I killed my parents?”

  “We got a tip. From the wedding chapel.”

  “But who told her?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  Because he didn’t know, and wouldn’t admit it. Gary had been questioned based on something pretty slim. He wasn’t going to receive an apology, either. He decided not to wait around for one. He got up, remembering to retrieve his wallet with his driver’s license from McGinty, and walked swiftly out the door before the officer changed his mind. He found his way to the lobby and looked for Penny. He saw her in deep conversation with a large woman.

  He walked toward her, wondering how she would react to seeing him. As he approached, she looked up. Her face changed instantly from sorrow to joy.

  “I’m free,” he said.

  Penny jumped up and wrapped her arms around him.

  The woman also got up, much more laboriously. “Now you children are back together again. You will have a long and happy marriage.”

  “This is my instant friend, Rowanda,” Penny said. “Rowanda, this is my fiancé, Gary.”

  When Rowanda hugged him, Gary didn’t know whether he would escape without any broken ribs.

  “Come to our wedding, Rowanda,” Penny said. “You can be my matron of honor.”

  Rowanda’s body shook when she laughed. “Honey, I’m not dressed for it. I’m dressed more for a funeral than a wedding. Anyway, I got to stay here and see about my truant son. You children go and get married. Have a nice life.”

  Penny and Rowanda hugged each other. Then Penny turned to Gary. “Let’s get married.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The receptionist at the wedding chapel looked surprised to see Gary and Penny together. He felt resentment toward her for calling the police, but he tried to hide it.

  “It turned out that I didn’t murder my parents after all.” He spoke lightly. “Was it the same guy you told us about before who accused me of murder?”

  The receptionist nodded, her look of surprise turning to puzzlement.

  “Did he give you a name this time?”

  “He told me his name was Jack London.” She gave a wry smile. “He didn’t give me his correct name, did he?”

  “I suspect not. I don’t know any Jack London, and the author by that name has been dead for fifty years.”

  “I’m sorry I put you through that. I didn’t know. I thought you might be in danger.” The receptionist indicated Penny. She seemed sincerely apologetic.

  “It’s all right.” Penny clung to Gary’s arm as if he might get away. “All’s well that ends well.”

  ***

  The diminutive room they were ushered into had what looked like a small cabinet covered with a white cloth that served as an altar. Two lit candles sat on top of it. Two large bouquets of pink and white flowers graced the floor in front. Penny’s matron of honor was a middle-aged lady who worked at the chapel.

  “Time out,” Gary said.

  Penny’s heart did a flip until she realized that he was looking around for his “best man.”

  “I’m down here.” The small voice belonged to a girl who barely came up to his shoulder.

  The matron of honor knocked on a little door and said, “If you please.” It opened, and the minister walked through the doorway. It looked as if he had stepped off a large Lazy Susan. Rotating from one chapel to another? By the time he had introduced himself and said a few words, it dawned on Penny that they were halfway through the ceremony. They exchanged gold rings they had purchased at the White Front department store in Torrance for nineteen dollars apiece.

  As soon as they said “I do,” a photographer breezed into the room and took a couple of pictures of them in front of the altar. The staff was the epitome of efficiency, but Penny didn’t care. The alternative would have been for her alcoholic father to walk her down the aisle in front of her friends and relatives while she pretended to be happy about the situation.

  When they went back into the reception area, they were presented with goodies: Blue Cheer, Bufferin, Micron mouthwash, spray-on starch, five-day deodorant pads, and a bottle of Joy. And a temporary marriage certificate.

  After a member of the staff took pictures of them in front of the chapel, Penny said, “I’m famished. We need to get something to eat. And to send telegrams. I’ll bet your aunt and uncle are wondering what’s happening to you right about now.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be glad to know that I’m not in jail for ax murders,” Gary said. “Let’s go to the Cal-Neva Club. I saw it on my ride to the police station.”

  ***

  Alfred didn’t dare enter the wedding chapel again. He had lost his credibility with the receptionist and was positive she would call the police if he showed his face. Even though he’d changed his appearance, she would recognize him by his damned potbelly.

  His visions of rescuing Penny and carrying her off had to be abandoned. He had done his best to prevent the wedding from taking place. In part he blamed Penny, herself. She should have heeded Gary’s run-in with the police as a warning and washed her hands of him. When they climbed back into the VW together at the police station, he knew she was going through with it. Well, she was young and naive. Gary had her buffaloed. It was Alfred’s job to protect her from him. And he would.

  He watched from his car as they came out of the chapel to have their pictures taken in front. They were married. They looked radiant. Alfred’s stomach churned. Then they went back inside. When they reappeared, they were in their old clothes. He prepared to follow them.

  They drove only a few blocks, to the Cal-Neva Club. That wasn’t unexpected, since they hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. It would also give Alfred a chance to grab a hamburger. He had been subsisting on chips and peanuts.

  ***

  G
ary took a bite of his sandwich. “Nobody knows where we are. So how could somebody show up and try to stop us from getting married? That’s what this guy was doing, right? Why else would he falsely accuse me of murder?”

  “Maybe it was a mistake,” Penny said. “Maybe…the woman at the chapel thought he was talking about you, but he was really talking about someone else.”

  He watched her sip her iced tea through a straw and hoped she was right, but that didn’t seem logical, either.

  “He gave my name—our names. Remember, she told us he came in the first time while we were changing our clothes and asked for us by name. She wouldn’t have told the police he was talking about me if she weren’t sure. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know anybody who cares whether I get married or not. Certainly not enough to come all the way to Reno to try to stop it with a cock and bull story.”

  Penny put her hand on top of his. “In any case, he didn’t succeed. So let’s not let it spoil our honeymoon.”

  “The only people who even had a clue to where we were going are Steve and Tom.”

  His roommate, Steve, hadn’t been at the apartment the night before they left, although Gary thought he had mentioned to him previously that they were going to Reno first. They had eaten dinner with his brother, Tom, a few days before they left. Tom had been horrified that they were going camping without a tent and had bought the pup tent for them as a wedding present. They had scoured West Los Angeles in the evening after dinner until they had found an open army surplus store.

  “They don’t fit the description she gave. Neither Steve nor Tom has a beard. Or a potbelly. And they are both well above medium height. And both liked the idea of us getting married, if I recall correctly.”

  Gary grinned at her. “Well, you’ve successfully eliminated them as suspects. Although Steve at least has a possible motive. He has to find a new roommate to help pay the rent.”

  “He appears to be pretty successful with girls. Maybe he can get one to live with him. And pay the rent. The last time I saw him, he didn’t seem to be particularly worried about losing you as a roommate. Anyway, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us. We’d better hit the road.” Penny started to get up.