Wedding Day of Murder

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “You say that often enough and it’s going to begin to lose its meaning,” Lacy said.

  “It’s just that sometimes I hear myself saying the words, and I think, ‘How did I get here?’ What scares me more is the thought of what’s going to happen after the shellshock wears off. Am I someday going to be that man who describes his bacon without even thinking about it?”

  “One can only hope,” Lacy said.

  “Did Robert do that for you?” Jason asked. He didn’t mention Robert often, but sometimes he was curious about the differences in their relationship.

  “Grandma never cooked like this for Robert,” Lacy said.

  “Really?” Jason said and added another piece of bacon and a muffin to his plate.

  Lacy took his muffin. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you’re going to have to pace yourself. Your pancreas isn’t ready for this.” She mashed the muffin with her fork and gummed it for a while, enjoying the quiet.

  “What’s on your agenda for today?” Jason asked after a few minutes of silent eating. He pressed a hand to his diaphragm. “I think I’m aspirating bacon.”

  “I have to plan Riley’s bachelorette party, apparently. It’s tonight, and I sort of forgot. Then I’m going to Riley’s before the party starts. Tosh’s sisters are coming into town, and I’m the buffer. How about you?”

  “Research. I need to delve into the victim’s past along with that of some more of the protesters. Maybe I’ll magically find a connection somewhere and this whole thing will make sense. Right now it feels random. Random crime is the hardest to solve, and it doesn’t bode well for the town.” There was something else he needed to do, but he saw no need to tell Lacy about it, not yet, anyway.

  “I have a good feeling about today. You’re going to solve this thing in no time, Detective,” she said.

  Somehow when she said it, he believed her. He kissed her goodbye. She pulled him back and kissed him again. “Did you do that because I smell like bacon?” he asked.

  “You’ll never know for sure,” she said. “Goodbye. I…I…I hope you have a good day.” After a stuttering start, the remaining words came out in a rush.

  He chuckled. “Thank you. You too. I’ll call when I get a chance. Let me know if anything strange happens.” He interrupted himself, holding up a hand. “Let me amend that. Call me if anything suspicious happens.”

  She waited until he was out of the house to drop her forehead onto the table. Why couldn’t she say the words? She loved him. She was comfortable and secure in their relationship. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain by saying it. The problem, she realized, was that there was a disconnect between what her brain knew and what her heart felt. In her mind, she knew there was no chance of rejection by telling Jason she loved him. In her heart, there was still the secret fear that it was too much too soon and she would drive him away. But that was crazy because he had already said it. Now the danger was in hurting him by putting it off. All in all, it was too much pressure. The internal pressure not to say it combined with the external pressure to say it waged war and paralyzed her. Her problem was always overthinking things. Why couldn’t she turn off her brain whenever it was convenient?

  “Is he gone?” Frannie asked. Lacy looked up to see her lurking in the doorway.

  “Mom, were you hiding from Jason?”

  “Not hiding. Just avoiding a confrontation. I’m not sure how I feel about him, Lacy. He’s much crankier than Robert.”

  “That’s because Robert was a schmuck, Mom,” Lacy said.

  “Lacy, that’s not nice. He was engaged to both you and Riley. You could show him a little more consideration.”

  “There were so many things wrong in that sentence; I don’t know what to choose first,” Lacy said.

  “What I’m trying to say is that Robert had some faults, but he was always nice,” Frannie said.

  “You mean he was always nice to you,” Lacy said.

  “And what’s so bad about that? I’m your mother. I think that deserves a little respect from the men you date.”

  “You and Jason may not always agree, but I fail to see how he’s been disrespectful,” Lacy said.

  “He…it’s his whole attitude. He’s very superior. I don’t like it. And he’s proprietary of you. That’s not healthy. In fact, I think he meets several criteria for domestic abuse.”

  “Mom, what are you talking about? Jason is a police officer. I can’t tell you how many men he’s arrested for domestic violence. He hates domestic violence. He would never hurt me, ever.”

  “Maybe not physically,” Frannie said.

  “What are you talking about?” Lacy repeated.

  Frannie raised a hand and began to list on her fingers. “He’s jealous. He’s possessive. He’s proprietary. He has a bad temper. He’s trying to alienate you from your family.”

  “He’s occasionally jealous and occasionally grumpy, but so am I. It’s not a state of being,” Lacy said. “And he has never once tried to alienate me from my family. If anything, he goes above and beyond the call of duty to spend time with my family.”

  “He doesn’t want you around me,” Frannie said.

  That’s because you’re mean and you hurt my feelings, Lacy thought, but there was no way to say that to her mother because she wouldn’t understand. She didn’t see herself clearly and had never realized that she favored Riley or picked on Lacy. “He’s protective, Mom. That’s a good thing.”

  “And now you’re making excuses for him,” Frannie said, shaking her head.

  “Mother, I am not making excuses for Jason. He is an amazing boyfriend. He’s loving, kind, giving, attentive, and supportive. I feel better about myself and life in general than I have in years.”

  “Then you’re too dependent on him,” Frannie said. “Your happiness needs to come from inside. Look at Riley; she’s always been self-confident and bubbly.”

  There was no winning an argument with Frannie, but Lacy was determined to have the last word. “Speaking of Riley, I need to go plan her party. But, Mom, this is the last I want to hear of this topic. Jason is not abusive in any way. We have a normal and healthy relationship, and I’m genuinely happy. Please, let it go.”

  Frannie sniffed and turned petulant. Lacy left her to eat a sullen breakfast. She stepped outside and tried to prioritize in her head what needed to be done. It had been a long time since she planned a party, and she was rusty. Now that it was down to brass tacks, she felt pressured to make it good. Riley was a party planner by trade; her parties were legendary and spectacular. Lacy wouldn’t be able to live up to her standards, but Tosh’s family was coming, so she needed to make it good, and she only had a few hours. The first thing she needed to do was invite people. She pulled out her phone and sent a mass text. If Emily Post were alive, she would keel over and die at the gross breach of etiquette. Lacy hoped the last few disastrous days bought her a pass on the impingement of manners.

  As she walked to work, she thought. What the party needed was a surprise, something spectacular and memorable. What the party needed was a little entertainment. As soon as she arrived at work, she sequestered herself in her office and searched the internet for just the right thing. She found it, booked it, and sent out another text.

  “As an added bonus, there’s going to be entertainment, if you know what I mean.”

  She sent the message and sat back, smiling with a little smug satisfaction. Who said you couldn’t pull off a party in a few hours? This shindig was going to be spectacular. For about thirty-five seconds, she reflected happily on her brilliance. Then she remembered that there was no food, drinks, furniture, or decorations yet. She sprinted down the stairs and to the bakery, throwing herself on their mercy. Since she was a good customer, they were willing to waive their usual twenty-four hour ordering rule. She only needed a dozen cupcakes, but she wanted them to be pretty. They offered to make cupcakes and cut-out cookies, both decorated to look like hydrangeas to match Riley’s wedding flowers. Lacy was elated.
Cupcakes and cookies; this party was going to be amazing.

  She was halfway back to her office when she realized that she needed to serve something other than sugar. “Drat,” she whispered, spinning on her heel to head the other direction. The protesters spotted her and thought she was running from them. They gave chase, headed by Rain, but Lacy outmaneuvered them. She arrived at the deli, sweaty and unable to breathe. They called an ambulance before she could convince them that she wasn’t having a heart attack. When she could breathe well enough to talk again, she ordered a few trays of meat, cheese, veggies, and bread. She left, remembered drinks, went back in and paid them an outrageous fee to put together some punch, something that wasn’t on their menu.

  “Food, drinks, entertainment,” she muttered as she walked back out the door. “What else?” Chairs, tables, and decorations. Back at her office, she called a rental place and paid an exorbitant fee to have chairs, tables, and linens delivered in less than an hour. Next she called Kimber.

  “Are you busy?”

  “Not really,” Kimber said. “It’s a slow day, although I do have a possible buyer lined up for that Grecian urn.”

  “I like that one.”

  “You can’t have it unless you’re willing to pay more than they are. A girl’s gotta eat. What do you need?”

  “I need you to help me shop for Riley’s party and then set up.”

  “Sure,” Kimber said. They disconnected and met in Kimber’s shop. She was the first artist to join the Stakely building, and she was drawing a hip, funky crowd. Lacy had paid to advertise the shop, both for Kimber’s sake and for her own. She wanted to draw a diverse crowd to the Stakely building. A lot of older people came for the food, and especially the produce at the Farmer’s Market on Saturdays. Families loved the ice cream shop. Lacy was hoping that Kimber and others like her would help draw professional twenty-somethings, as well as the occasional tourist or art lover.

  “How’s the mouth?” Kimber asked.

  “Better,” Lacy said. “Someone broke into my room last night.”

  “Is that the start of a joke? Because I don’t get it.”

  “No, that’s a true story. Someone broke into my room, touched my leg, and ran back out again. Jason came over and spent the night.”

  “Hold up,” Kimber said. “Jason spent the night? At your grandma’s house? Is the sky purple now?”

  “It’s a sign of how well you know my family that Jason spending the night is more shocking than a leg-touching burglar,” Lacy said.

  “I’m assuming they didn’t find the leg-toucher,” Kimber said.

  “No. Jason thinks maybe it’s the same person who kidnapped me when I was medicated.”

  “Someone kidnapped you?” Kimber said. “I thought you wandered. I’m so behind. Start at the beginning. I haven’t seen you in days. Well, I haven’t seen you lucid in days.”

  “How bad was I?” Lacy asked.

  “It’s in the vault,” Kimber said.

  Lacy groaned. She could only imagine how bad it was if Kimber was saving it in the vault to use against her at some future time. “I had water the first time Jason found me. I told him someone gave it to me, and I know it didn’t come from my house. That combined with the murder of the reporter and the burglary last night has made him wonder.”

  “What reporter?” Kimber asked.

  “It was in the paper,” Lacy said.

  “Girl, that paper is about five paragraphs long. I don’t read it.”

  “The protester who was murdered was a reporter. Jason thinks he was doing a story on me.”

  “Uh-oh,” Kimber said.

  “What?” Lacy asked.

  “I think he might have left a couple of messages on my phone,” Kimber said. “When Jason talked about the murder, I had no idea he was a reporter. I didn’t make the connection.”

  “Really? What did the guy say?”

  “He called a few days ago, said he was a reporter doing a story on you and could he ask me a few questions about your past. I never called him back because I knew how much you would hate that. I was going to tell you, but then Andy came to town, and I sort of forgot.”

  She had a goofy smile when she mentioned Andy. “Kimber, is there something you want to tell me?”

  “I did it,” Kimber blurted.

  “Did what?” Lacy prompted.

  “I told Andy how I feel. I told him I love him.”

  “Seriously?” Lacy said. She was floored; Kimber had never admitted her feelings for Andy to anyone, not even her.

  “I figured new life, new Kimber. It’s been so long, and it seemed like a good sign that he moved here to follow me. So I did it.”

  “And it went well?” Lacy asked.

  “It went beyond my wildest expectations. Andy said he has felt the same for a long time.”

  “So you’re together now,” Lacy said.

  “We’re taking it slow,” Kimber said. “We’re both settling in and starting new businesses. But it feels good.”

  “Have you told your parents?” Lacy asked.

  “No, and I don’t plan to,” Kimber said. “They would probably try to talk me out of it. They don’t like Andy.”

  “How could they not like Andy? Everyone likes Andy,” Lacy said.

  “He’s not white,” Kimber said.

  “Neither are you.”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure my parents know that. They want me to marry a white guy.”

  “Did they say that?” Lacy asked.

  “No, but I know that’s what it is. They’re uncomfortable with my ethnicity.”

  “If that were the case, I don’t think they would have adopted you,” Lacy said.

  “You misunderstand me; they’re not uncomfortable with the color of my skin. It’s what I do with it. It was all fine and good when I was living in the white world, but since I’ve been branching out, there’s this chasm.”

  If there was a chasm, then it had probably been caused by the giant chip on Kimber’s shoulder. Lacy had met Kimber’s parents multiple times, and she had trouble believing they had anything but the best in mind for their beloved only child. On the other hand, Kimber still wasn’t in a talkative place when it came to her family. Lacy hoped that living closer to home would make things better, but who was she to judge? Family was hard.

  “My mom thinks Jason is abusive,” Lacy said.

  “What?” Kimber said. “Was she joking? Has she seen the way the boy goes all gooey when he looks at you?”

  “She doesn’t think he’s physically abusive; she thinks he’s too possessive.”

  “Well,” Kimber drawled.

  “Kimber!”

  “I’m teasing, although he does need to lighten up now and then,” she said. “Think about it: he doesn’t like other men buzzing around you, and he hates that you have money.”

  “For the record, I don’t like other women buzzing around him. And the money thing has nothing to do with possessiveness and everything to do with pride. Jason’s old-fashioned that way. He doesn’t like for anyone to think he’s a gold digger.”

  “It shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks if you both know that he’s not,” Kimber said.

  “It shouldn’t, but it does. He works in a job where every flaw and shortcoming is brought into the open and paraded around for entertainment. Cops are hard on each other. Besides, he hasn’t said anything about the money in a long time. He’s trying. Give him a break.”

  “All right, don’t get your skirt all in a wad. I was saying that I could possibly see where your mom is coming from. For the record, I don’t in any way think Jason is abusive.”

  “Neither does Mom. She’s just mad because Jason doesn’t fawn over her the way Robert did.”

  “Tosh doesn’t seem to fawn,” Kimber said.

  “No, but Tosh is already on her list for stealing her precious Riley away and getting her pregnant. Tosh may never get off the list. At least Jason still has a chance.”

  “Girl, you’ve got t
o stop trying to live up to your mom’s expectations,” Kimber said.

  “I keep thinking that if she only got to know Jason and could see how happy we are that…”

  “That what? She’ll realize you’re as lovable as Riley? Not going to happen, girlfriend.”

  Lacy winced. While she tried not to intrude on Kimber’s life with unwanted opinions, Kimber never seemed to return the favor. What she said was true, though. Lacy had to stop trying to win her mother’s approval; it wasn’t going to happen. “I miss my dad,” she muttered. Not only had her dad lavished enough attention and love to make up for her mother’s deficit, but he was good at handling his wife, even when she was at her most crazy.

  “What’s happening there?” Kimber asked.

  “I don’t know, but nothing good. I don’t think they’re separated, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the next step. Neither of them will talk about it, and the truth is that I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be involved in their relationship. I want them to be together and happy like always. I want the stability and security I’ve always had, and I don’t want anything to change.”

  “Lots of I’s in that sentence,” Kimber said.

  “I know it’s not all about me, but no one will ever convince me that divorce is the best thing for my parents. They’ve been together since high school; they belong together.”

  “Sometimes things change,” Kimber said.

  “Not my parents,” Lacy stubbornly insisted. “They love each other, I know they do.”

  Kimber shrugged, wisely letting a topic go for once. They arrived at the party store and picked napkins, cutlery, plates, cups, and decorations. Their town didn’t offer much. Lacy was glad Kimber was with her. Her artistic eye helped put things together in a way that Lacy never would have imagined. If it had been left up to her, she would have picked white napkins because they matched everything. Kimber selected silver and lilac because it would go well with the hydrangea theme. Lacy stood to the side and let her work her magic, only stepping to the forefront when it was time to pay.