Wedding Day of Murder

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “I guess that’s my cue,” Mr. Middleton said. He stood and dumped the remainder of his coffee in the sink. “It would seem that Lacy’s back in her right mind now.”

  “I’ll bring her back tonight,” Jason promised.

  Mr. Middleton nodded and eased past them to the door. Jason watched him go, his back to Lacy. “What does it say about me that your grandpa liked me better when you were out of your head?” When he turned back to Lacy, her hands were on her hips, and she was pinning him with a look. “What did I do?”

  “You put a bell on me,” Lacy said.

  “It was a very small bell,” he said. He advanced on her. His tie was askew—a testament to what had probably been a very bad day, but there was none of that in his smile. She could no longer keep up the pretense of indignation. When he was close enough, she reached for him and kissed him. And almost immediately regretted the action.

  “Ouch. Stupid teeth.”

  “My poor baby,” he said. He gently cupped her face and made his inspection. “The swelling has gone down a lot.”

  “I was swollen?”

  He choked back a laugh. “Just a bit. It was both sad and cute, like dating a confused chipmunk.”

  “Super,” she said. “I can only hope that someone, somewhere has pictures.”

  He tipped her face up and kissed the tender spot on her jaw. “What are the chances I could convince you to keep wearing the bell?” he whispered.

  “Not good,” she whispered.

  “Too bad. It was a handy way to keep track of you.”

  “Do you want something to eat? Grandma sent pudding. There are bananas in it. That’s almost like a fruit salad,” she said.

  “Except not at all,” he said. “Where do you get your nutritional information?”

  “The backs of cereal boxes. Why?”

  “Stop asking questions, Jason,” he reminded himself. “At this point, even pudding sounds good. I’m hungry. Sit, I’ll get it. You’re recuperating.” He tried to push her into a chair, but she refused.

  “But you had a bad day. You sit, and I’ll get it.” She pushed him into a chair, and he let her.

  “How did you know I had a bad day?”

  “Your tie. You tug on it when you’re trying not to punch someone.”

  He waited to respond until after he ate the pudding. It was like drinking a can of sweetened condensed milk with the occasional banana thrown in for texture, but at this point he didn’t care. He was tired and hungry and his brain hurt from too much thinking. He pushed the bowl away. Lacy tugged it close and scraped up whatever he had missed.

  “Mm, sweetened condensed milk,” she said.

  He dropped his head to his hands and rubbed his eyes, laughing. Sometimes he didn’t think it was possible for them to be any more opposite than they already were, but something always came up to prove him wrong.

  “Jason, what is it?” she asked and shoved the now clean bowl away. Her hand rested gently on his bicep. He tugged her into his lap and held her close, pressing his face to her neck. “I did a bad thing.”

  Lacy’s heart plummeted, sure at first that he had cheated on her. After her kneejerk reaction, she decided that wasn’t the case. He had spent the last few days proving his devotion. Her insecurity was unwarranted. “I don’t believe that,” she said. She sifted her fingers soothingly through his hair.

  “No, it was bad,” he argued.

  “What happened?” She couldn’t imagine what he might say. Jason was such a stickler for rules that once when he accidentally tossed a gum wrapper out the window, he turned around and spent an hour searching for it in the tall grass by the side of the road. He was the image of integrity.

  “I broke into Michael’s shop, and then when he caught me, I tried to beat him up.”

  Was she still hallucinating? Because that sounded more like a dream than reality. Jason would never, could never break the law. But he looked so miserable; she knew it must be true. “Jason, why?”

  “I thought he kidnapped you.”

  “Michael would never,” she began, but he interrupted.

  “Lacy, I ran him through the system, okay? I found out about the arrest in Minnesota. I saw that he had stalked a woman, a woman who was killed, and I panicked. You were gone, and he looked suspicious, and all the evidence pointed to him. But it wasn’t enough to pick him up. I wanted to know, I wanted the proof before I went after him. I wanted to find you. And then when I saw him, I just got so mad. It was like with Josh all over again. I hadn’t been there, hadn’t watched you close enough, and you were gone. I was so angry, I just...I lost it. If he tells anyone, if he files a complaint, my career is over.”

  “He won’t,” Lacy said.

  “You don’t know that,” Jason said. “He would be justified.”

  “He won’t because I’ll ask him not to,” Lacy said.

  “No,” he said, so vehemently that she jumped. “I messed up, and I’m not going to make it worse by sending my girlfriend to fight my battles.”

  “You wouldn’t be sending me. I would go voluntarily. You were under duress.”

  “No,” he said again, and now he was becoming truly angry. “Promise me that you won’t.”

  “Jason…”

  “Lacy, this is not a conversation that is open for discussion. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” she agreed, but only because she saw a better solution. “Why don’t you go talk to him? Michael is not unreasonable. He’s is a nice guy, a good guy. He’ll be fair.”

  “Michael is a,” he started but then stopped. He didn’t have the heart to disillusion her about what Michael was. “Maybe I will. At the very least, I guess I owe him an apology for trying to beat him into unconsciousness.”

  “You keep saying that you tried. Why didn’t you succeed?”

  For some reason, it was harder to admit to her that he had lost the fight than that he had started it in the first place. “Someone apparently taught him how to fight at some point,” he mumbled after a minute of sullen silence. Jason hadn’t fought often, but when it happened, he always won. Losing was humiliating.

  “Maybe he boxed for money, like Wolverine,” she suggested.

  “I thought Wolverine was some sort of superhero. Why would he box?”

  “Oh, Jason, you’re such a non-geek. I weep for you, I really do.”

  He laughed and she felt some of the tension drain out of him. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. “I should probably go,” Lacy said. “I have to face my mother at some point.”

  He held her tighter. “Why do I always have to give you back?”

  “One would assume you would be relieved to see the end of me after all the trouble I’ve put you through the last few days.”

  “One would be grossly mistaken. You think I’m joking about relocating to a desert island, but if I could convince you, I would do it. You and me with no distractions is my Nirvana.”

  “My family is driving you crazy,” she said.

  “No. A little. Yes.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I’ve come to realize over the last few days that it’s not them, it’s me. I mean, don’t get me wrong—they’re nuts. But so is everyone’s family. The thing about being a family of one for so long is that I don’t know how to be in a real family anymore. This is my issue, and I’ll work on it.”

  “My mom will go back home soon and things will stop feeling so cloistered.”

  “Lacy, don’t apologize. This is not your problem. I have issues. Most of the time they’re easy to ignore, but something happens, and they come back to haunt me again. Things will settle down and I’ll stop being crazy.”

  “I like you crazy. We match for once. You’re always a little crazy, as proved by the fact that you have Mr. Clean on speed dial, but you’re good at covering that up. Outsiders don’t know until they delve deep. It would behoove me if you wore your crazy a little more proudly.”

  “I can’t compete crazy with a woman who says
behoove,” he said.

  “You could try,” she said.

  “I will try,” he said. “But you will always be king of the forest.” He pressed his face to her neck to stifle his laughter.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  “Never mind,” he said, but she was uncomfortable with his falsely innocent tone.

  He drove her home, but they sat in his car for a long time, talking and holding hands. Lacy was amazed to think she had once believed that all that was between them was chemical attraction. There was that, and it was sometimes overwhelming, but they were good friends—the best. She had come to depend on Jason in a way that she had only ever depended on a few people—maybe more because she had shown him more vulnerability. They had only been dating a few months, and yet her level of trust in him had already exceeded that of Robert, a man she had dated for years and been engaged to. With Robert, she had always had to be “on,” to strive for perfection. Jason seemed to be most attracted to the parts of her that were flawed. She hadn’t quite worked out why, but she was learning to let it go.

  He walked her to the door and gave her a gentle, lingering kiss goodnight. “When was the last time I actually walked you to the door? We’re always going in twenty million directions. This is nice, like a real date.”

  “Let’s do it more often, without the dental surgery and disappearances,” she said.

  “Speaking of which, you forgot this at my place.” He pulled the cat collar out of his pocket and shoved it into her hands.

  “I’m not wearing that,” she said.

  “A guy can dream. Think of it as a memento of your adventure. Plus it will save me the temptation of getting a cat.”

  “You are so not a cat person,” she said.

  “You think I’m a dog man?”

  “No, you’re the guy who shampooed his carpet because he arrested someone who owned a rat,” she said.

  “He didn’t just own a rat. He let it run free in his house. Rats carry the plague. Preventative measures were appropriate.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but dogs and cats carry germs, too,” she said.

  “I know, but last year you said you wanted a kitten but your grandma is allergic. For you, I would live with germs.”

  “And shedding,” she said. “And a litter box. And food that drops crumbs. And a water bowl that…”

  He placed his palm lightly over her lips. “Stop it or I’m going to have to go home and bleach things.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s not kind to tease the mentally ill.”

  “Cleaning is not an illness. Not cleaning is an illness.”

  “I slept on your sheets,” she reminded him. “Are you going to be able to sleep on those without washing them?”

  “Baby, if it meant keeping a piece of you with me, I would never wash those sheets again.”

  “You’re going to change them before you go to bed, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “I might boil them,” he said, but he winked, so she didn’t know what was true. She would like to believe it didn’t bother him to have her use his things, but germs were hard for him. She would give him a pass for now, but someday…well, someday was a long way off.

  He kissed her once more. “Goodnight. Call me when you wake up. I love you.” He disappeared before Lacy could reply, not that she had one anyway. The words were still lodged in her uncooperative throat, and now Jason had said it twice. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t going to find the answer to that tonight, and it was too late to try. Reluctantly, she went inside and said hello to her mother.

  Chapter 13

  “Hey, sweetie,” Frannie said as Lacy pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yes.”

  “See? I told Jason you would be fine,” Frannie said. “I didn’t take him for such a worrier. He needs to relax.”

  “I’ll be sure and pass that along,” Lacy said. She sat beside Frannie on the couch, prepared to watch mindless television, but Frannie had other ideas. She turned off the television and pulled out a notepad.

  “We need to discuss Riley’s bachelorette party. What have you done? Have you sent the invitations?”

  “Well, Mom, since the last time we talked about it was right before I had my teeth out, I don’t think I’ve done anything. Unless I did it when I was delusional. But it doesn’t sound like me to hallucinate efficiency and organization.”

  “Lacy, the party is tomorrow. You’ve known about this wedding for months. How could you have put this off? This is your only sister and she only gets married once.”

  “Actually this makes twice,” Lacy said.

  “She only gets one real wedding,” Frannie said. “Stop being cute and be serious. If this party is a flop, it’s not going to reflect badly on me; it’s going to reflect on you. Tosh’s family is coming, and we’re trying to win points. You’re the maid of honor. Act like it.”

  Lacy massaged the joints of her aching jaws. It was a terrible contrast to go from Jason’s tender affection to her mother’s stinging criticism, but she supposed it wasn’t fair to compare. She wasn’t dating her mother, and she and Jason were still in that gooey new relationship phase. Would he one day be as annoyed and impatient with her as her mother was? She hoped not.

  “I’ll put something together tomorrow, Mom,” she promised.

  “Make it good,” Frannie said. “I don’t care how much it costs. You can afford to make a nice party, so do it.”

  “Fine, Mom. I’m going to bed now.”

  Frannie nodded, not looking up from her wedding to-do list. Lacy lingered, a momentary longing for some word of kindness or affection from her disapproving parent. After a minute, she gave up and turned away. Her grandmother met her in the hallway with an enveloping hug.

  “Honey, I’m so glad you’re home. Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Lacy said. “How’s your eye?”

  “I’ll be winking in no time,” Lucinda said.

  “Grandpa will be so relieved,” Lacy said.

  “There’s cake,” Lucinda said.

  “I don’t think I can chew anything yet,” Lacy said.

  “I could put it in the blender for you.”

  Lacy laughed and hugged her tighter. “Oh, Grandma, I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, and if you need anything in the night, you just call me. I’m a light sleeper, you know.”

  Lacy did know. She also knew that, given the opportunity, her grandmother would do anything for her. If she asked for a kidney, her grandmother would drive to the hospital and demand to have one removed.

  They said goodnight. Lacy washed her face, brushed her teeth, took out her contacts, and crawled between clean sheets. Grandma, she thought. Even though she’d had her own surgery and could only use one eye, she had spent the last few days changing Lacy’s sheets and baking. You are loved, her grandfather had said. Lacy had never felt it more keenly. She was drifting to sleep when she heard it, a slight scratching sound on the window. She chalked it up to a branch and fell back asleep.

  A bell jangled. Somewhere in the fog of sleep, she understood that it was the cat collar from Jason. Was she still wearing it? No, it was on the chair by the foot of the bed. Strange that it would ring all by itself. Wait, it wouldn’t. She sat upright and saw a shadowy figure standing beside her. Slowly, a hand reached out and rested on her leg.

  “Um, that’s not okay,” she said. Her voice quavered. She reached for her phone on the nightstand. The figure retreated and fled back through the window. She punched Jason’s number.

  “’Lo’,” he said, sounding so exhausted that even in the midst of her panic she felt guilty for waking him. If she waited to tell him, however, he would be irate.

  “Someone was in my room.”

  There was a thump, a groan a clatter, and then he was back. “What?”

  “What happened?”

  “I fell out o
f bed. What happened to you? Are you okay? Is someone there now?”

  “No. They came in my window and, um, touched me.”

  “Touched you?” he roared, and she realized how bad it sounded.

  “No, not like that. I mean they touched my leg. It was weird.” And terrifying.

  “I’m going to need a description,” he said.

  “It was kind of a gentle caress,” she said.

  “A description of the person, Lacy, not the touch,” he said.

  “Oh. I don’t know. It was dark, and I wasn’t wearing my glasses.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Probably. Does ‘shapeless blob’ help you in any way?” she said.

  He stifled a sigh. “There’s a uniform at your door. Let him in and try hard to think of anything you can remember to tell him. Another uniform is combing the neighborhood, and I’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

  “Don’t drive crazy,” she said.

  He grunted and disconnected.

  “By the way, I love you. I’m completely crazy about you. I can’t imagine spending a minute of my life without you. I accidentally drew your bare chest on a tax form last week because it’s basically all I think about. If we weren’t dating, I would be labeled a stalker.” Why couldn’t she say any of that when he was actually listening? Why were the words perpetually lodged in the back of her throat?

  The patrol unit knocked on the front door; she grabbed her glasses and she scurried to answer. Her mother still sat on the couch, making notes on a seating chart.

  “Who could that be at this hour?” she muttered, not looking up. Lacy didn’t answer.

  “Are you okay?” It was Clyde, one of her favorite deputies.

  “I’m fine. Come in.”

  “What can you tell me?” He pulled out his notebook and pencil, prepped to write.

  “Not much more than I told Jason, unfortunately. I heard a soft scraping sound and woke up to see someone standing in my room. I didn’t get a good look. It all happened so fast.”