Wedding Day of Murder

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Wedding Day of Murder Page 18

by Vanessa Gray Bartal


  “She so nice,” Lacy said. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? Do you think it’s a trick? Do you think she’s putting up a front to lull me into a false sense of security and then she’s going to attack and rip my hair out for taking Jason away from her?”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” Kimber said. “Although if that happens, you’d better be careful how you handle her. She’s so tiny, one wrong move could break her in half.”

  “I’m starting not to like you, either, but for vastly different reasons,” Lacy said.

  “Too bad, girl, you’re stuck with me. But when my back can’t move in the morning from hauling a thousand pounds of decorations up four flights of stairs to decorate your party, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to have kind things to say about you either.”

  “Thanks, Kimber,” Lacy said, slinging an arm over her shoulders. “It looks awesome. If I had decorated on my own, it would look like a party at an institution—all white and sterile. You bring color into my world.”

  “Literally,” Kimber said, returning her halfway hug. “If I had to move to the boonies, I’m glad I get to be with you.”

  “You’re just saying that because Andy’s here and you’re in lurve,” Lacy said.

  “Probably,” Kimber agreed.

  “Yoo-hoo, Lacy,” Frannie called from the freight elevator. She and Lacy’s grandmother stepped out, their arms loaded with presents. Her grandma was sans eye patch, Lacy noted, grateful to have her back to a hundred percent. “Did you set up a gift table?”

  “Of course, Mom,” Lacy said, glad that Kimber had reminded her to do so. “Let me take these for you.”

  “No, we can get them. These are for you.” She shoved a stack of pamphlets into Lacy’s hands and walked away. With a sinking feeling of dread, Lacy looked down to see a bruised and battered woman staring back at her.

  “Are those…” Kimber began.

  “Pamphlets for victims of domestic violence? Yes, yes they are.” She shoved them in the trash and forced a calm she didn’t feel. Now was not the time to have it out with her mother. Really, there was never a good time for it because it never ended the way Lacy wanted it to. Every argument ended in Frannie’s favor, always. Even if it was by default because she stormed off and slammed a door, Frannie always won. There was a certain power in not engaging, something Jason had taught her. He routinely dealt with suspects who tried to make him angry by yelling, spitting, biting, and fighting. By remaining calm and rational, Jason was always in control. Lately Lacy had been trying the same tactic with Frannie, but her mother didn’t make it easy. No matter how this latest battle of the wills turned out, she had no plans to ever tell Jason that her mother had called him abusive. There were some things Jason could handle. Being accused of harming Lacy was one of the things he couldn’t.

  Kimber whistled. “Your mom is like ninja-warrior level passive aggressive.”

  “This is nothing,” Lacy said. “In high school, she used to staple empty candy wrappers to fat camp applications and slide them under my door.”

  “Ooh, that burns,” Kimber said. “At least you had your dad and your grandma.”

  “Yeah,” Lacy agreed. “They more than made up for any grief I got from Mom. And now I have my grandpa and Jason.”

  “And your mom lives in Florida,” Kimber added.

  “Those are my favorite words,” Lacy said. Tosh’s sisters arrived, and Lacy went forward to greet them, drawing them in to interact with her mother and grandmother. Riley was a little late, but since it was her party, no one cared. The food was already set up. People began to mingle and eat. Lacy realized she probably should have planned some sort of game, but reasoned that since everyone hated party games anyway, no one would care if they didn’t have any. Besides, the entertainment was due to arrive any minute.

  Tosh’s sister, Bede, caught Lacy’s attention from across the room.

  “Lacy, I brought my ones,” Bede announced. She held up a fat wad of dollar bills.

  “Great,” Lacy said, confused. She turned to Kimber and Riley. “She knows the party is already paid for, right?”

  “Those are for the stripper,” Kimber said.

  “Someone hired a stripper?” Lacy exclaimed.

  “You did,” Riley said.

  “I did? When did I do that?”

  “You said you hired entertainment,” Riley said.

  “What?! Even if our ultra-conservative grandma weren’t here, I wouldn’t have any idea how or where to hire a stripper,” Lacy hissed. “Plus, gross! If I wanted to see a sweaty stranger gyrate in his underwear, I would join a gym.”

  “Your concept of both gyms and strippers is spot on,” Riley said. “If you weren’t talking about a stripper, then what did you mean by entertainment?”

  “I hired a clown to make balloon animals,” Lacy said.

  Riley and Kimber looked at each other and erupted in laughter.

  “That’s going to be one surprised clown when Bede shoves a dollar down his pants,” Riley said. Kimber bent over, howling.

  “Stop it, girl, I can’t breathe.”

  “He doesn’t just do animals,” Lacy added. “He also makes flowers, hats, and swords. He’s really good. I hired the best one I could find.”

  They laughed harder.

  “I might have the baby right here,” Riley said, pressing her hand over her belly.

  “Do it,” Kimber urged. “Maybe the clown can make you a balloon bassinet.”

  “I don’t understand what’s so funny,” Lacy said.

  “The entertainment,” Riley gasped. “You said, ‘If you know what I mean.’ What else were we supposed to think?”

  “I thought everyone knew I meant the balloon clown. I thought it was a given. I would love to have someone to make balloons at my party.”

  “You’re living the dream now, girl,” Kimber said, which sent her and Riley into another fit of giggles. Lacy left them and wandered to the punch table. She didn’t understand what was so funny. Was she so out of it that it would be considered normal to hire a stripper for her pregnant sister’s wedding shower? With her mother and grandmother in attendance, no less. Did people really do that?

  Her thoughts were interrupted when the door burst open. The protesters streamed in, led by Rain and followed by Joe who was trying ineffectually to stop them.

  What now? Lacy thought. She set down her punch and went forward to try and diffuse the situation, whatever it might be.

  Across town at his office, Jason was distracted. He was supposed to be sifting through the backgrounds of all the protesters, but he couldn’t concentrate. What if he was barking up the wrong tree entirely? What if Michael was right? What if the mayor and his fellow officer were responsible for Carl Whethers death? What if they were laying a meticulous trap for Lacy? How could he fight against the powers that be if he was part of them? On the other hand, wasn’t it paranoid to suspect his coworkers of such heinous foul play? They were sworn to uphold the law, the same as he was. Wasn’t it far-fetched to believe they would break that oath in order to exact revenge on Lacy?

  His phone rang. He did a double take when he saw that it was Michael. How had the man gotten his number? He almost didn’t answer it. Somehow he knew it wouldn’t be good news, and his mind was already muddled with too many shades of gray. He had to answer it, however, if only to assuage his raging curiosity. What had Michael found? He knew without being told that Michael had broken into places to do some snooping. Good or bad, he had to know what the answers were.

  “I have a good news, bad news scenario,” Michael said when Jason answered. “The good news is that the mayor and detective are in the clear. I won’t say how I know, but trust me on that.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Jason asked.

  “I believe I found Carl Whether’s computer,” Michael said.

  “That’s not bad news,” Jason said. Carl Whether’s computer might yield a treasure trove of information; it could be the key to everything.

 
; “It is if you consider where I found it,” Michael said.

  “Where did you find it?” Jason asked. Michael was enjoying the dramatic reveal a bit too much, in his opinion.

  “Are you sitting down?” Michael said.

  “What is going on here?” Lacy asked. Kimber flanked her on the right side, bolstering her confidence. Kimber might not look like much, but she had a crazy temper and could be lethal in a fight, a lesson Lacy learned the hard way the one and only time they got into a physical altercation in college.

  “They burst in rambling about something,” Joe said. “Practically bowled me over in their hurry to get up here.”

  “Cultural excess,” Rain screamed, pointing to the chandelier and gift table. “You are the worst sort of rich person! That’s enough food to feed a half dozen people.”

  “There are nine people here,” Lacy said. “It’s a party.”

  “There shouldn’t be any parties when children are starving,” Rain said.

  “If there were any starving children here, I would invite them inside for a meal,” Lacy said. “This is a private party. You have to go.”

  “No! We won’t go!” Rain began to chant. “Come on, guys,” she urged, but her group was slowly breaking up, lured by the food and punch. Two of them had already picked up glasses and were filling them with pink punch.

  “Stop it!” Lacy cried. “You are not allowed to drink our punch, you are not allowed to be here. Go away before I call the police.”

  “What’s the deal here? What’s going on?” Bede asked. She and the other sisters streamed over, surrounding Lacy and Kimber like a gang.

  “Nothing, it’s okay,” Lacy said. “There’s a bit of a protest going on, but they’re leaving now.”

  Rain crossed her arms over her chest and plunked herself down. “Make us.”

  “Okay,” Bede said.

  “Awesome,” Bridget mumbled, rolling up her sleeves. Together, they picked up Rain and began dragging her toward the elevator. By the punch bowl, Betsy and Belle grabbed the two stragglers and dragged them away, too. The other protesters followed like lambs.

  “This is not the party I planned,” Lacy muttered. “And if they touched the cookies or cupcakes, someone is going to pay.” She and Joe followed behind the group. Her presence wasn’t necessary, since Tosh’s sisters had everything well in hand. But she was the hostess; she supposed she should be the one to oversee the bouncers.

  They dumped Rain and her ilk unceremoniously on the grass outside the Stakely building. “Beat it,” Bede said.

  “We have a constitutional right to speak our minds,” Rain said.

  “And I have a constitutional right to make you eat your teeth,” Betsy said. Rain looked up at the four imposing sisters who now towered over her.

  “All right, we’ll move across the street, but that’s as far as we’ll go.”

  “We’ll stay here to make sure you get settled in,” Bridget said. They waited until Rain and the protesters gathered themselves and crossed the street, settling comfortably under an oak tree. A few of the protesters scratched at the grass and fell asleep.

  “Thank you, guys. Where did you learn to be so intimidating?”

  “Catholic girls’ school,” Bede said. “No one is scarier than nuns, Lacy. C’mon, we’ll walk you up.”

  “That’s okay, you guys go ahead. I think I see my entertainment.” She squinted against the setting sun, shading her eyes. Down the street a big-footed clown slowly ambled along, dragging a tank of helium behind him.

  “I’m going to go get my dollars ready,” Bede said.

  “O-okay,” Lacy said. She hoped she would gather the courage to disappoint her soon or she might be the first person to be sued by a clown for sexual harassment. “Hey,” she called out when he was close enough to hear her. “I’m glad to see you. The party needs a boost.” He smiled. Clowns are creepy, she thought absently.

  “I am sitting down,” Jason assured Michael.

  “After I made a fruitless search of, uh, certain properties, I started thinking about what you said.”

  “What did I say?” Jason snapped. Pulling information from Michael was like extracting teeth. His flair for drama was too much for Jason’s frazzled nerves to handle.

  “You said that everything started when the protesters arrived,” Michael said.

  “Yes,” Jason prompted.

  “Someone else arrived with the protesters,” Michael said.

  It took a few seconds to process. “Andy,” Jason breathed. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish. I had a bad feeling about him the first time I met him. Something was off, but Lacy and Kimber loved him so well, I talked myself out of it. But then I figured since I was already investigating, I might as well check him out. I found two laptops. One is his; one is not. The other is scrawled with the initials C. W.”

  “Oh.” Jason said. He didn’t know what else to say.

  “It gets worse,” Michael continued. “His closet is covered with pictures of Lacy.”

  “Oh,” Jason said again. “Do you have any idea where he is? I’ll pick him up.” He got up and started walking to his car.

  “Here’s where it gets confusing. Scattered all over his bedroom is what I can only guess to be clown paraphernalia.”

  “Clown?” Jason repeated. Had he heard Michael wrong?

  “Clown stuff. And a book about how to make balloon animals, along with a receipt for a helium tank and some open packages of balloons.”

  “Lacy,” Jason said. He was running now.

  “How did you get to Lacy from a balloon clown?” Michael asked, but Jason didn’t answer. He tossed the phone onto the seat of his car and took off. Lacy was having a party. Lacy loved balloon clowns. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and realize where Andy was headed.

  The clown approached slowly from Lacy’s left, and then another arrived from her right. “Well, this is awkward,” she said. “I only ordered one of you.”

  “All I know is that I got the message on my machine to be at this address,” the one on her left said.

  “I don’t think we need two of you,” Lacy said. If she hoped one of them would bow out gracefully, she was bound to be disappointed. They both stared at her, side by side, matching creepy smiles hiding what must be frustrated expressions. “This is a very important event,” she continued. “I need whichever one of you is best.”

  “What are you saying?” one of them said.

  “I’m saying I think we should have a balloon off. Make something, and whichever one of you makes the best thing will win. It’ll be like Top Chef for balloon animals.”

  The one on the left sighed and pulled out a balloon. “This is where my quality clown college education pays off.”

  The one on the right pulled out a knife.

  “That seems like cheating,” the clown on the left said.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Lacy said. “I’ll pay you a partial rate for the mix up.”

  “Quiet, Lacy.”

  “Andy,” Lacy said. She smiled. “What are you doing? Is this some sort of joke?”

  “No. This is about putting something right that should have been put right long ago,” he said.

  “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” Little prickles of alarm began to work their way up her arms, forcing the hair there to attention.

  “Do you remember in college when you almost fell out the window and no one could figure out how it happened?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “That was me. I pushed you. I saw you standing there, looking out, and this whisper in my head told me to do it. Such a simple suggestion, but so right. I knew as clearly as I’ve ever known anything that you needed to die. So I did it, and it felt so good, Lacy. So good. I wish I could describe to you how good it felt. It was euphoric, but you didn’t die. You dangled there.”

  “You pulled me back in. You saved me.”

  “No, I wanted to do it right.
I didn’t want it to end like that, with you dangling like a bird on a wire. You were supposed to fall gracefully. You were supposed to plummet. I wanted to do it the proper way, to make it clean and perfect.”

  “So, when I fell down the stairs my junior year…”

  “No, that was you.”

  “What about the time I got stuck on that ski lift and they had to call the fire department?”

  “No, that was also you.”

  “What about when I…”

  “They were all you, okay? When you think about it, I might be doing you a favor,” he said. “For a while, I convinced myself that I hadn’t heard what I thought I heard, that I wasn’t supposed to kill you. I mean, it’s not as if I don’t like you. You’re one of my best friends, and you’re Kimber’s best friend. Kimber and I are dating now, and I see a real future for us. That makes things awkward. But when she asked me to move here, I knew it was a sign. It’s your time to go, and I’m the angel of death, Lacy. Your angel of death.”

  “Well, I’ve gotta go,” the real clown said. He eased away as quickly as he could, his giant feet flapping on the pavement.

  Down the street, tires screeched. Lacy looked over to see Jason erupt from his car, grab the clown, and begin violently shaking him. “That’s the wrong one,” she called. Jason looked at her and Andy and let the clown go, but it was too late. Andy grabbed her and pressed the knife to her neck.

  Jason eased closer, his hands held out in a non-threatening manner. “Let her go, Andy,” he said.

  “No,” Andy said.

  “You don’t want to do this,” Jason said.

  “Not really, but I sort of need to. I can’t stand to leave things unfinished. I had a Tiger Mother.”

  “You don’t want to kill Lacy,” Jason continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “And you didn’t want to kill the reporter, did you?”

  “Of course not. Why would I want to do that? But he followed me home to ask some questions about Lacy. He saw the pictures. He thought I was in love with her.” He chuckled. “No offense, but you’re not my type, Lacy.”

  “None taken,” Lacy said.

 

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