Marriage Vow Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  "He could be nowhere," Betty said as she nibbled on a breadstick. "Like in another dimension."

  "Nobody is nowhere." Caterina rolled her eyes. "I think he's on a secret mission."

  This made me smile. The girls loved Rex. In their eyes he was a super cop with supernatural abilities—one of which was endless patience for little girls. And no matter how many times I insisted that he didn't have X-ray vision, they refused to believe it.

  "Mrs. Wrath!" Hannah shouted.

  Apparently, the girls just realized I was standing next to them, and they turned to stare at me as if I'd sprouted two heads.

  "It's okay, girls." I patted two of the Kaitlyns on the head. "Just checking in to see if you have everything."

  "Are you going to get married tomorrow if Mr. Ferguson isn't here?" Lauren asked.

  Caterina punched her in the arm. "Don't say that!"

  Lauren shrugged. "You could have a marriage by proxy. Someone stands in for the groom. People did it in the olden days."

  "Philby could do it." Betty gazed at her handiwork. She'd nibbled the breadstick into an impressive replica of a Bowie knife.

  "Animals can't stand in!" Ava scowled. "That would be illegal!"

  I was pretty sure marriage by proxy was illegal, but I was impressed that they knew that in the first place, so I let it slide.

  "To answer your question," I said, "no, if there's no groom, there won't be a wedding. We'll just put it off for another date."

  I really didn't want to do that. Planning for this wedding had seriously stressed me out—and I'd only been in charge of hiring the organist. I'd held auditions. Olive Clinton was the only one who knew how to play the Dora the Explorer theme music. And since I first spotted my future husband while peeking out from behind a pair of Dora bedsheets that I was using as living room curtains, it had been appropriate.

  "We can help with a search party!" Inez clapped her hands.

  "I've got snowshoes!" Ava nodded.

  "We should wear camouflage," Betty added. "I bought a winter sniper ghillie suit online."

  Of course she did.

  "Thanks, girls," I said. "I'll let you know. For now, you should eat."

  The room had tables formed in a U-shape. The girls were at one end of the U, with Kelly and Soo Jin next to them. The head table was where Rex and I would sit. I felt a little stab of pain when I saw his spot was empty. On the other side were my parents and Rex's family. The pastor and organist sat with them.

  As I sat down in my spot, the empty one next to me seemed to draw attention to the fact that I was either alone and marrying myself or that my groom had achieved invisibility. Dinner was brought in on huge platters and placed on the tables, family-style.

  Greek food was my third favorite, after Italian and junk. The tantalizing smells of stuffed grape leaves should've had me diving for my plate. But I wasn't hungry. I was worried. Missing the rehearsal was one thing…but the dinner too?

  I had a terrible feeling I wasn't getting married in the morning.

  "Are you going to be okay?" Riley said. He was sitting in the spot next to Rex's empty chair.

  I turned to him. "You don't think there's a connection to the CIA, do you? An old enemy of mine who'd kidnap Rex?"

  He thought for a moment. "I can make a call, if you'd like. Ahmed might know."

  "Ahmed still owes me money for a case of peanut butter sandwich cookies from last year." My thoughts turned to the upcoming cookie sale. Fortunately, Kelly always handled that.

  "Even better. He'll do it if you forgive his debt." Riley stood up and walked out of the room.

  What could Ahmed find out? He was awfully low on the totem pole at Langley. Still, it was doing something. Sitting here wasn't going to find Rex. Maybe Riley could get some intel.

  The fact that most of my enemies were dead or in prison was partly due to me. Midori Ito of the Yakuza was dead, and her daughter Leiko was in prison. Lana Babikova was in a penitentiary, and I'd run over Carlos the Armadillo. That was an accident. He just sort of flew at the front of my car while I was driving.

  There were others…a strong man in Chechnya, a pair of twin albinos in Patagonia, among others. Riley could at least find out if they were in the country. And if they had Rex, I was going to kill them.

  "You have to eat something." Kelly spooned ziti onto my plate.

  "That's true," I mumbled but made no move to pick up my fork. "I have to keep my energy up, just in case."

  My best friend added bread and fruit to my plate. "In case what?"

  "In case there's a fight. Or a car chase. I need to be ready."

  Kelly shook her head. "He's fine. You won't need to fight or chase anyone. Something's off, I agree. But let's not jump to conclusions just yet."

  "And Lewis Spitz?" I lowered my voice. "The poem about his murder being connected to me?" I repeated the rhyme.

  Kelly sat back. "I think someone's just trying to scare you."

  "My money's on Juliette Dowd," I grumbled.

  Juliette Dowd was a psycho who worked for the Girl Scouts and made my life a living hell. Why? Because she thought she should be with Rex. When she couldn't have him, I became her favorite target.

  Don't get me wrong—I loved our local council. Every other employee was amazing. Exceptional. It was just this one woman who made things difficult for me. But could she have taken Rex? At least if she had, she wouldn't hurt him. She might trick him into marrying her, but I could handle that.

  I plotted my revenge on the angry redhead through dinner and the drive home. My parents were staying with me. Mom took care of the cats as Dad walked over and collected Leonard.

  As I lay in bed that night, I hoped I was dreaming. That I'd wake up and it would be this morning and Rex would be here and my florist would be alive. With that in mind, I managed to fall asleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Fionnaghuala Czrygy!"

  I knew that voice. There was only one person on the planet, who wasn't either of my parents, who knew how to pronounce my name (sounds like "Finella Scissorgee"). Almost everyone else called me Finn C.

  Mrs. Willard's measured voice was firm, in spite of the unspoken exclamation mark. She was my fourth-grade teacher and one of my favorite people, but she didn't tolerate nonsense. Which made me think that for some reason, I was now committing said nonsense.

  I looked around the classroom. Kelly, on my left, was wiggling her eyebrows meaningfully. Not that I understood what she was trying to say. Had I fallen asleep in class? Was she telling me I was dead meat? She probably was. Kelly told me that a lot.

  Kevin Dooley was on my right, attempting to discreetly eat paste. Most kids give that up in kindergarten, but Kevin was kind of a slow learner. He didn't even make eye contact. His gaze was on the teacher. The boy never noticed anyone except for the person who could make him stop eating.

  "Yes, Mrs. Willard?" I asked cautiously.

  I never fell asleep in class. So why did I feel like I'd just magically appeared at my desk midday?

  The teacher looked at me expectantly for a moment before answering. "In From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler"—she took a breath. It was a long book title—"what do you think of Claudia's actions? Of running away with her brother?"

  Ah. E. L. Konigsburg's book was one of my favorites, and like the children in the story, I'd always fantasized about running off to live in a famous museum (unlike the children, I'd never done that…yet). Not that I had any reason to run away from home. My parents were totally cool. But leaving Who's There, Iowa, and Kevin Dooley behind me would be a plus.

  It was my teacher’s favorite book too. I glanced at her desk to see a stack of crossword puzzles sandwiched between a couple of Sherlock Holmes books. This story of two little kids who attempt to solve an art mystery was one of the few books I'd heard she taught every single year.

  "Oh!" I shouted, causing Kevin to drop his bottle of paste. He left it on the floor at his feet, as if he didn't know it existed, and pull
ed something I hoped was a Milk Dud from his pants pocket and popped it into his mouth.

  My voice wavered a little. "I think she was right. I'd love to live in a museum."

  The class snickered, and I wondered if I'd said the wrong thing. I shot a glance at my best friend for encouragement, and she smiled and nodded. Kelly was super amazing. She'd run away with me to a museum.

  Mrs. Willard did not nod with approval or criticize my answer. "What would you think would be the equivalent to the Metropolitan Museum of Art here?"

  I chewed on my pencil for a moment. "The Des Moines Museum of Art. Or the zoo. I like the zoo."

  The kids laughed as the teacher finally nodded. She turned to another student, and the heat was off of me.

  "Good answer!" Kelly whispered, giving me a thumbs-up.

  I couldn't help but smile. I was warming up to the idea that she and I could run away sometime. Just for a little adventure. Not forever or anything. I looked at my teacher and realized she was a lot like Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler in the book. Firm but approachable, Mrs. Willard always said that kids would perform exactly how you expected them to.

  I wasn't totally sure what that meant. But since we all worked harder in her class than in any other, I guessed it was a good thing.

  "Mrs. Wrath!" someone wailed behind me.

  That was weird. Was my grandmother here? She was the only Mrs. Wrath in town. I turned to face a scowling girl who I'd never seen before. Wait…that wasn't entirely true. I did know her. How did I know her?

  "Mrs. Wrath!" The girl shouted this time, and I flinched. As awesome as Linda was, she wasn't going to be happy at all about someone speaking out of turn, let alone doing it with their outside voice.

  * * *

  My eyes flew open. Betty looked down at me. I'd been dreaming. In bed.

  Sitting straight up, I searched the room for my co-leader. When I heard her voice in the living room, I ran to her. It was then I realized that the whole troop was in my house. And I was in my pajamas.

  Oh right. Mom mentioned something last night about a search party! Sadness twisted my gut because the girls being here meant there was no news about Rex. Today was supposed to be our wedding day. But if Rex hadn't turned up by now, there wasn't going to be a wedding.

  I had an idea. "Kelly! I know who we need!" I shook her arm.

  My now grown-up best friend looked at me with sympathy. "How are you feeling? You don't have to go today."

  I ignored her question. "I know who can help us!"

  Kelly looked around. The girls were making posters, using pictures of Rex. Well, Lauren and Inez were drawing a picture of Rex as a unicorn princess, swathed in pink glitter that said, LOST! Please return to Mrs. Wrath's house ASAP!

  "Merry," my friend said. "We've got half the town searching, along with the police department and the county sheriff's office."

  Nodding quickly, I interrupted. "We need someone who's smart and practical. Someone who's amazing at puzzles. That's what the clue was! A puzzle!"

  Kelly cocked her head to one side and arched her right eyebrow. She was waiting for me to explain.

  "Mrs. Willard! We need her!"

  "Our fourth-grade teacher?" Kelly placed the back of her hand on my forehead to see if I was feverish.

  "Yes! She can help!"

  Kelly shook her head. "You haven't gotten any sleep since yesterday."

  "I just slept! That's how I came up with the idea! I had a dream about her!"

  "Seems legit." Betty appeared at our side. "That's where most of my ideas come from." She handed us a poster for information leading to finding Rex that featured a four-million-dollar reward. Rex was dressed like a cowboy with a handlebar mustache. The girl gave us a wink and walked away.

  * * *

  As I showered and got dressed, the idea made more and more sense to me. My former teacher was a whiz at puzzles. In fact, there'd been a number of stories in the local paper about how she'd won several puzzle competitions in the last couple of years since her retirement. Sudoku, crosswords, and brainteasers were her favorite. If anyone could make sense of the message from the killer, she was that person!

  "Come on!" I tugged on Kelly's sleeve. "I found her address in the phone book. We should go right now."

  Kelly frowned. "The girls are here."

  Ten little girls looked at each other and screamed with glee. There was no way I was leaving them alone in my house. They'd either dye my cat pink or burn my house to the ground.

  "What about Mom?" I asked, looking around until I spotted her in the kitchen. "She and Dad can entertain them."

  Mom agreed and sent Dad out for a bucket of cookie dough. I felt bad leaving her like that. Especially since I didn't even own a cookie sheet. Still, Mom was very resourceful (I'd seen her take a banquet with food for eight and turn it into a sumptuous feast for thirty, using nothing more than a toothpick and nail file). She'd think of something.

  "We haven't seen Mrs. Willard in years," Kelly mumbled. "This might be the dumbest idea you've ever come up with."

  That was saying something. I was pretty sure my best friend had a list of ideas she'd ruled out over the years. From sniper training camp to a field trip to Beirut, my suggestions were usually ignored.

  I brushed her insult aside. "I saw her at Oleo's a week ago."

  "Did you talk to her?" she asked.

  I shook my head. "No, but it was definitely her."

  "What if she doesn't remember us?"

  "That's possible, I suppose." It had been a long time since the fourth grade. "I think she'll at least consider it."

  It took only a moment to find her address in the phone book. The small brick condo was near the library. Pulling into the driveway, the fog cleared and I realized that this was a crazy idea. I ignored it, like I usually do when that happens. I ran to the house and knocked.

  The door opened, and a petite, trim woman with short blonde hair answered. I couldn't believe it. She hadn't aged a single day. Now that I was here, I froze. Suddenly, this didn't seem like a great idea. I was freaking out—it was up to my best friend to keep me from making crazy decisions, wasn't it?

  "Mrs. Willard?" Kelly asked tentatively. "I'm sure you don't remember us, but…"

  "Finn Czrygy and Kelly Swanson," the woman answered with a knowing nod.

  How did she remember Kelly's maiden name? She'd been Albers for years. And my name certainly didn't trip off the tongue.

  "You remember us?" I asked. How did she remember us? I was very unremarkable as a child, but maybe because my father was a senator, she remembered me?

  The retired teacher smiled. "I remember those students who I knew were going to do well in life."

  She knew we'd do well? How did she get that from my miserable attempts at multiplication? Maybe it was because of my reading skills?

  Kelly explained, "Well, sure, Merry became a spy and was famous when she was outed. But I'm just a nurse."

  Mrs. Willard cocked her head to one side, "Just a nurse? You are an excellent nurse. You help people every day. I'd say that's successful."

  I'd forgotten how straightforward the woman was. If she thought something was important to do, she did it. If she had something to say, she said it. Most Iowans were known for their brisk, matter-of-fact manner. But this was part of who Linda was, and I'd always admired her straight talk.

  We must've been staring, because she said, "You remember me. Why shouldn't I remember you?"

  I threw my arms around her. "You were my favorite teacher!"

  The woman chuckled softly and hugged me back for a brief moment before pulling away.

  "So, why are you here? I doubt that this is a social visit." There was that directness again.

  Kelly and I looked at each other before I responded, "I have a huge problem. And I think you're the one to help me solve it."

  Our fourth grade teacher looked us in the eyes for a few seconds before nodding. "Then I guess you'd better come in."

  We followed her inside, an
d I thought about everything I knew (which wasn't much) about my retired teacher. She'd been married and widowed young and had a daughter who had to be an adult by now. She was tenacious. I remember my dad at the kitchen table, reading the paper and praising Mrs. Willard for the job she did, representing the local teachers in negotiations with the administration. A real tiger, he'd called her. I could use a real tiger about now.

  "Please." She motioned to a comfy sofa in a cozy room, and we sat. "Can I get you anything? Tea or cookies?"

  I shook my head, "No thank you. We don't mean to impose. And I'm sorry we dropped by so suddenly."

  The woman smiled broadly, making us feel at home. "You don't need to apologize. I'm happy you're here. Now, what can I do for you?"

  Wow. I'd expected confusion (something I'm known for causing) and some resistance. She offered neither.

  "My fiancé has been kidnapped." It all came out in one whooshing breath.

  I told her the whole story, with Kelly filling in where I'd left something out. We talked about Lewis Spitz's murder, of Rex's disappearance, and the bizarre clue left by the body. She never gasped or freaked out, just listened patiently, nodding to offer encouragement.

  Most people are terrible listeners. They talk a good game but never get around to asking how you are. Mrs. Willard was silently supportive. As I spoke, I felt a sense of hope. This woman could handle anything. I wanted her on my side.

  Empathy shone in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Merry. It sounds like you've been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. How can I help?"

  I hesitated and looked at Kelly, who nodded. "I need your talent with puzzles. I need your help."

  "May I see the clue?" she asked without a moment's pause, and I knew that I'd come to the right person.

  I'd written down the verse from the clue we'd found near Spitz and offered it up. Linda took the slip and read it aloud.

  "Wedding traditions as good as gold…Let's start out with Something Old. It's from that old wedding rhyme," she said almost immediately. "Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue."

  "Wait! There's a wedding rhyme?" I asked.