The Wedding Caper

by Janice Thompson

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The following evening, just two hours after I arrived home from visiting Judy Blevins, my guests began to arrive. Candy and Garrett were the first in the door. My daughter proudly handed me a scrumptious-looking cheesecake. “I baked it myself.”

  “Wow.” I’d been married twenty-seven years and still hadn’t conquered the art of baking a “real” cheesecake. The kind from a box, sure. But the real McCoy?

  I gave my daughter an admiring whistle. “You go, girl.” That Garrett was going to be one lucky fellow.

  Brandi and Scott came in next. She opened a bag from our local Super Center and pulled out a variety of things: French bread (to go with my homemade lasagna), lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, baby carrots, a red onion and a head of broccoli.

  “Mmm.” Looked great. We went to work, piecing together the most colorful salad in town.

  At 7:00 sharp, the doorbell rang and I answered it with a smile.

  “Welcome!” I let out an “Ooo” as my gaze fell on Nikki in a lovely deep red sweater and trendy jeans. That security guard outfit did her no justice at all. She was quite a beauty. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail and looked considerably younger. To be honest, it took a moment to register. She was probably no older than my own daughters. Somehow, that put a whole new spin on things.

  “Good evening, Annie!” Nikki handed me a plateful of brownies, which I accepted with a smile.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know.” The edges of her lips curled up in a playful grin. “But I wanted to. And Amber helped me bake them. She loves working with me in the kitchen.”

  For the first time, I glanced down at the youngster to her right. A precious child with blonde curls and eyes bluer than my Dutch china stared up at me.

  “You like helping your mom?” I asked.

  Amber nodded, then shifted her focus to the ground.

  “She’s a little shy,” Nikki explained.

  “Well, come on in, ladies. Didn’t mean to leave you standing out in the cold.” I ushered them into the house, then reached to close the door. As I did so, my gaze fell on the car in the driveway.

  The car.

  Yep, the one and only “Sports Car Extraordinaire,” to be precise. Sitting right there, in my driveway. I must’ve paused a bit too long, because Nikki interrupted my thoughts.

  “Oh,” She glanced out the door alongside me. “Do you like my car? I just bought it.”

  “It’s very nice.” I gave it another once-over before shutting the door. I’d imagine a burglar could make a clean get-away in a car like that.

  “Remind me later,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “and I’ll tell you how I got it. It’s a miracle, really.”

  Yep. A $20,000 miracle, in fact.

  Nikki and Amber followed on my heels to the kitchen, where I introduced her to my girls. My daughters, who had never known a stranger, took to her right away. Their conversations, as always, layered one on top of the other.

  Less than five minutes later, I called everyone to the table. I’m not one to be prideful about such things, but we had quite a spread: two kinds of lasagna, a huge salad and mozzarella-filled French bread. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.

  “Wow.” Warren looked over the beautiful feast the girls and I had prepared. “Looks amazing, Annie.”

  “Thank you.” I reached up to give him a peck on the cheek, and noticed Nikki’s gaze follow me. What’s up with that?

  We took our places and Warren offered to pray over the food. As was our custom, we each reached out to grab the hand of the person on either side of us. Amber sat directly to my right. I took her little fist in my own and gave it a tender squeeze. She looked up at me with a bashful smile, jumbo-jet-length eyelashes batting over those saucer-wide blue eyes.

  Warren prayed a deep, heartfelt prayer, and then the chaos began.

  Let’s just say I’ve never seen so much food consumed in such short order. And with so many of us gathered around the table, the conversation rose to a near-dangerous decibel level. But no one seemed to mind. In fact, the smiles on every face let me know a good time was being had by all.

  I glanced at Nikki several times along the way. Truly, she beamed. The young mother seemed in her element, a fact that surprised me a little. I’m not sure what I’d expected—for her to be uncomfortable in a ‘normal’ family setting, perhaps?

  No, there she sat, chattering away about everything from fashion to food to the upcoming Get Out to Vote rally.

  Floored me.

  After swallowing down more food than should have been allowed by law, we cleared the table and pulled out several games. I’d deliberately chosen to start with Clue, a personal favorite.

  I opted for Mrs. Peacock. Warren took Colonel Mustard. And Nikki, who played with an inquisitive Amber at her side, chose Miss Scarlet.

  You would pick her, wouldn’t you?

  Brandi, Candy, and Scott dove in as well, settling for Mrs. White, Professor Plum, and Mr. Green, respectively. Devin and Garret opted not to play, choosing instead to watch the sports channel on TV.

  Not that any of our lovebirds were really focused on the game.

  You know, I’ve noticed a lot of kissing goes on when you have two engaged couples in the house. Truly, at least a half dozen times during the game I looked up to find Brandi and Scott smooching or Candy and Garret making goo-goo eyes across the room at one another.

  I also noticed Nikki’s reaction. I just thought I’d seen her nervous back at the bank. Her reaction to all of this romance let me know she carried some heavy-duty issues where men were concerned. Heavy-duty.

  What secrets aren’t you telling, girlie?

  We played on and on, interrupting each other every now and again to tell a funny story or nibble on cheesecake.

  At one point, the game nearly slowed to a halt. Clearly frustrated, Brandi popped out with something funny. “Scott, if you don’t hurry up and make a move, I’m going to think you’re the suspect.”

  We all laughed, but at the same time a chill gripped me. If only my daughters knew a potential burglar sat at our very table, they might not find the comment so funny.

  “Give me a minute. I’m thinking.” Scott’s knotted brow left nothing to the imagination.

  “That explains the look of pain on your face,” Devin hollered out from across the room.

  We all laughed again, but Scott had the last laugh. He won the game, fair and square. Mrs. Peacock. In the library. With the wrench.

  Bingo.

  “See,” he bragged. “Told you I was thinking.” Truly, my future son-in-law took his game-playing quite seriously.

  Shortly thereafter, we settled down in the living room with cups of hot coffee in our hands. Amber’s cup contained cocoa, topped with a couple of big marshmallows. After a bit of chit-chat, the room filled with a delicious silence.

  To my surprise, Nikki was the one who broke it. “You know,” she said, “I remember nights like this when I was a kid. My mom and my uncle would teach my brother and me how to play cards or some board game, and then we’d all drink hot chocolate after.” Here she paused and her expression changed. “Of course, my dad was never there. He was—” Her voice kind of drifted away.

  “I’m sorry, honey.” I reached over to pat her hand.

  As I did, the voice of the Holy Spirit filled my ear and near-sent my heart into knots. She’s just a girl, Annie. A girl who never had a father. Point her toward her real Father and leave the rest to me.

  Ouch.

  My Bible verse bounced around between my ears again. “Come now, let us reason together,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”

  A reminder, perhaps, that Nikki Rogers was no different than any of the rest of us? That she and my girls shared the same hopes and dreams? That her sins, whatever they were, were no greater than any of ours?

  I t
hought back to the missing $25,000 and tried to remain focused on my job as an investigator. Sitting next to me was a prime suspect, possibly the suspect.

  As I stared at the lovely young woman who now giggled at one of Devin’s goofy jokes, the Lord spoke the same words to my heart again: She’s just a girl in need of a Father.

  I let my gaze shift to the little girl who sat beside her. Amber. Another fatherless child. For whatever reason, my heart suddenly grew quite heavy.

  I stared across the room at Warren, who also laughed at his son’s joke, his face alight with merriment. Thank You, Lord. My children are so blessed. Oh, if only it could be so for every child.

  I thought of Jake, a young man in search of a father’s love.

  My thoughts shifted to Nikki, a woman angry because of a dead-beat dad.

  I reflected on Amber, a child who—unless God intervened—would never know the warmth of a daddy’s arms.

  And, with today’s visit to the hospital still fresh on my mind, I was reminded of Judy Blevins, who would soon dance into her Father’s arms, a smile as broad as the Atlantic on her face.

  The image was too much to take. I had to excuse myself to the restroom.

  Seemed like I’d been spending a lot of time in bathrooms lately. But this time, I didn’t cry. No, by the time I arrived, I’d managed to push back the emotion and focus on the one thing that would lift my spirits, not cause me to crater, as I had so many times in the past.

  I reasoned things out with the Almighty. In short, I gave Him a piece of my mind. And, in exchange, He gave me a piece of His.

  I saw in a flash His broken-heartedness over those who’d been betrayed, and His desire to see them restored. I took note of his love for the single mothers and their children. And I marveled at His unbelievable mercy for all of the dads who’d strayed far from His plan for their lives.

  More than anything, though, I saw His desire to see all of us come to know Him in the way that Judy had. At this point, the Lord gave me a clear resolve to reach out to Nikki Rogers—even if she had taken the $25,000—and point her in the right direction. He encouraged me to continue on in my quest to pinpoint the thief. And He challenged me to spend more time reasoning things out with Him.

  Go ahead and dish it out, Annie Peterson, I’m pretty sure I heard Him say. I’m a big God. I can take it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I was awakened on the morning of the Get Out to Vote rally by a phone call. I’d known all along it would come, but the news still came as a shock, nonetheless.

  Apparently, in the middle of the night, sometime around 3:00 a.m., Judy Blevins had danced her way into the arms of her heavenly Father, just as she’d told me she would.

  Though I’d expected it, I still found myself awestruck by the reality. The image of a little girl spinning across the living room filled my mind. Twirling skirts, childlike voice raised in glee, I could envision it all. Oh, Father! Is that what she’s doing right now, at this very moment?

  My heart sang for her. But at the same time, it broke for Richard. The poor man had already lost so much. How would he make it through this, as well?

  One thing was certain. He would need his church family. We would draw close to him and offer love and support in every conceivable way. This much, I knew to be true. And I prayed he would respond by returning—in his own time, of course—to our midst.

  I woke Warren up to give him the news. He sat up in the bed and raked his fingers through messy hair, taking it in. His response startled me.

  “I didn’t think it would really happen,” he whispered.

  I didn’t tell him I’d known all along it would. Instead, I just settled into his embrace as he reached out for me. We leaned against one another in the bed, and I let him do the talking.

  “Annie, I don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost you.” His voice broke, which caused a lump to rise in my throat.

  Wow. He’d spent some time thinking about this.

  “I feel the same way,” I whispered. “But I know God would get us through it. And I know He’ll walk Richard through it, too.”

  “What can we do for him?” Warren looked at me. “He doesn’t seem to want help from anyone.”

  “Maybe that will change now,” I offered. “Maybe this is the best time to reach out to him. He’s got no children, no relatives living nearby. He’s going to need the people at the church more than ever. And if we’re there for him, regardless of his absence over the past few weeks, he’ll have to see how much we love him.” Here I paused. “And how much we loved Judy.”

  “Right.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, each of us lost in thought. I finally rose from the bed, knowing the day would not wait on me.

  “I wish we could just cancel this rally,” I said. “My heart’s just not in it now.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Warren loosened his embrace and then rose from the bed. “Judy was so patriotic. She loved the Get Out to Vote rallies. Probably more than any of us.”

  “You’re right,” I said with a smile. “I’d forgotten. She was the one who always took the stage and led us in the national anthem. And she would want us to be there today, with bells on.”

  We dressed, albeit slower than usual, for the annual event. Warren chose a deep red sweater over jeans and I donned a bright red shirt, with a navy blazer, coupled with jeans. For effect, I wore a white belt.

  The rally started at noon in the Clark County Park. Warren and I arrived early to help set up. Even at such an hour people were arriving in swarms in their red, white and blue hats; flags, like kites, waved in the breeze and children ran amuck.

  I rubbed away the chill on my arms with outstretched palms. “When did it get so cold out?” I pulled a white wool scarf tighter around my neck, all the while wondering if the temperature had really dropped, or if the news about Judy had left a permanent chill.

  Warren headed off to the platform area, where he would soon open the event in prayer. I looked around at all of our friends and loved ones, and my heart swelled. In spite of so many in attendance, it just wouldn’t be the same without Judy and Richard here. They’d always played such a critical role in the event.

  The smell of barbecue filled the air. I looked across the picnic area to find Janetta Mullins and her family hard at work, preparing food for the masses. She wore a white chef’s hat with an American flag on the band, and the sunlight picked up the sparkles in her white and silver sweater. I made my way through the crowd over to her. Though I hated to think about the investigation today, of all days, I knew I should probably try to get to the bottom of the cash deposit issue. If I could.

  “Hi, Mullins family,” I said with a smile. “How are you doing today?”

  Jake looked up with a smile. “Busy, but good.”

  “Here, try a piece of this, Annie.” Janetta handed me a tiny piece of brisket, which I promptly popped in my mouth.

  “Man, that’s good.” I licked the sauce from my fingers and looked over at her with an admiring smile. “Is there anything you Mullinses can’t do?”

  “Well, we’re not very good at getting our mom married off,” Kristina offered.

  For some reason, that got all of us laughing. Well, all but Janetta, who swatted at the air with the back of her hand.

  “I’m the last person on God’s green earth who wants a man in her life, trust me. And I’m so old and set in my ways, I wouldn’t even know what to do with a man if I had one anyway.”

  I had to laugh aloud. “Girl, I’m sure you’d figure it out.”

  Jake shook his head and his gaze shifted back to the barbecue pit. Is he embarrassed?

  Sheila walked up, her face more serious than usual. She took me by the arm and whispered, “Did you hear about Judy?”

  I nodded and turned to face her. “I did. Has anyone talked to Richard?”

  She shook her head. “Orin tried, but Richard didn’t answer his cell. I’m just worried because I know he doesn’t have family nearby. I think
maybe Judy has a sister in Pittsburgh, but I don’t know how close they were.”

  “Are you talking about Richard Blevins?” Jake looked over, wide-eyed.

  “Yes.” Sheila and I echoed.

  “What happened?” The young man looked genuinely concerned.

  I felt the edges of my lips curl down as I responded. “His wife passed away in the night.”

  Janetta very nearly dropped the metal tongs from her hands at the news.

  “Oh, that’s awful. She was such a nice lady.”

  We all chimed in with a round of dittos.

  “I’ve really missed working with her this year at the rally,” Janetta added. “I always looked forward to seeing her.” She shook her head. “It’s such a shame.”

  “It is sad,” I agreed, “But I’ve no doubt in my mind where she is right now.” I went on to tell them—all of them—about Judy’s dancing story. Janetta Mullin, soft-hearted soul that she was turning out to be, swiped away a few tears. “Well, if that doesn’t beat all.”

  Sheila threw in a couple of stories about Judy from years gone by, and had us all chuckling within no time. Somewhere in the midst of the laughter, Janetta came up with a plan.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” she interjected, “The kids and I will go by the Blevinses’ house on the way home and take Richard some of this barbecue.”

  “Great idea.” Sheila and I chimed in with a few more ideas for how we’d care for Richard over the coming days then she headed off to locate her husband.

  Jake, who’d been pretty quiet till now, spoke up. “I think Mr. Blevins would probably like it if I visited him, but I’d like to wait till the crowd thins a little.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, he was so great to me when I was in jail. Came to see me every day.”

  If I’d had false teeth, I would’ve dropped them. “W–What?”

  “Didn’t miss a day,” Jake said with a nod. “He came on his way to work every morning. They even let him bring in breakfast once or twice. Donuts. He also brought a Bible and talked to me about God. All sorts of stuff, really. Did you know he lost a son once?”