“Are you up to performing the ceremony?” Jordan asked him.
Larry nodded.
“We can’t have the wedding with your mother’s body in the bedroom!” Susan dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she’d extracted from her purse.
“I’ll contact the sheriff,” Alix said, taking control. She could tell that Jordan’s family had all they could do to deal with their shock and grief. “The sheriff will send the coroner.”
As Alix talked to the sheriff’s office, Jordan’s family—his older brother, Bret, his uncles, aunts and cousins—came to bid their grandmother farewell. How ironic that a day meant for joy should be so full of sorrow…and then joy.
The sheriff’s patrol car arrived at the same time as the musicians. The rows of chairs had started to fill up with wedding guests.
Alix met the sheriff, whose badge identified him as Lyle Carson, and led him inside the house. The bedroom was crowded with weeping family members. She could only imagine what it must look like, a bride in her dress and gown leading him to the body.
He removed his hat and asked Alix a few questions, as she seemed to be the only one capable of answering. The coroner came shortly afterward and it was Alix who answered his questions, too.
While he examined the body, Alix ushered everyone out of the bedroom and directed them to join the other guests.
“Larry,” she said to her soon-to-be father-in-law, “you need to go to the tent now with Jordan and Bret.” Bret had flown in from California and was standing up as Jordan’s best man. “I suggest you tell our guests what’s happened. Perhaps you should call for a moment of silence and then say a prayer.”
Larry nodded and followed her instructions.
Taking Susan’s hand, Alix guided her out of the room, whispering reassurances as she went. Jacqueline came to their side, and Alix asked her to help Susan repair her makeup.
The rest of the family moved slowly toward the tent.
The photographer wandered aimlessly around, looking confused and uncertain. “Take a bunch of random shots of the wedding,” Alix told him. “As much as possible, avoid getting any of the emergency vehicles.”
He nodded.
Colette approached her. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Thank you for asking, but I can’t think of a thing.”
The musicians began to play the wedding march and Colette gave her a swift hug. “Go,” she said with a warm smile. “You’re about to become a bride.”
“Your guests have been apprised of the circumstances,” Reese whispered when he met Alix outside the tent. “It was handled beautifully by Jordan’s father.” He offered her his arm as he prepared to escort her down the aisle. His smile revealed his pride. “I have to say, Alix Townsend, you’re really something. I don’t know of anyone who could’ve dealt with this crisis as well as you have.”
Alix smiled shakily. The music continued and with her head held high, she walked toward her groom.
On her side of the aisle were all the people Alix loved. Lydia, Brad and Cody, who squirmed until he saw her and then waved frantically. Carol, Doug and Cameron sat in the second row. This was the first time Alix had seen her friend in a maternity dress. Elise and Maverick were there, and Bethanne and Annie, along with Susannah, Joe, Chrissie and Colette. She saw her friends from the French Café, too.
Alix could hardly believe how many friends she’d made these last few years. It’d all begun the day she’d impulsively crossed Blossom Street and signed up for a knitting class. Who would’ve guessed that such a simple decision would forever change her life?
As she stood beside Jordan and they exchanged their vows, Alix saw the love in her husband’s eyes and knew it was a reflection of her own. As soon as the ceremony was over, Jordan kissed her. His father announced them as Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Turner, and there was a moment of sustained applause.
Everyone made an effort to celebrate, despite the sadness of that morning. They enjoyed the meal, the music, the conversation with family and friends. At around 7:00 p.m. Alix and Jordan were leaving for Victoria, British Columbia, where they’d have a two-day honeymoon.
“Are you sure we should go?” Alix asked after they’d cut the cake and made a final round of their guests.
“We should,” he insisted. “Dad and I talked it over, and we decided to hold Grandma’s funeral on Tuesday, the day after we get back.”
“Okay.” Under no circumstances did Alix want to miss it.
As she changed out of her wedding dress and into comfortable traveling clothes, Susan Turner joined her.
“Oh, Alix,” she whispered and snapped open her purse to search for another tissue. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you today.”
Alix was uncomfortable with the praise.
“You took care of everything.”
“I didn’t do—”
“Yes, you did.” Susan touched her arm. “You kept your head, you held the family together, you and Jordan made crucial, on-the-spot decisions.”
Alix shifted from one foot to the other. “Speaking of Jordan, I’d better go find my husband.” Calling Jordan her husband for the first time seemed momentous to Alix. Until now, the meaning of that word had been abstract, impersonal, describing a role, not a man.
Now it meant Jordan.
Husband.
Alix had never realized how intimate it sounded. Intimate and yet public—a declaration of love and belonging.
“I won’t keep you.” Susan hugged her tightly. “I hope we can be very good friends, Alix.”
Alix hugged her in return. “It’ll be nice to have a mother,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 37
Colette Blake
After Alix and Jordan’s wedding, Colette returned exhausted to Elizabeth’s home. They had a quiet dinner of shrimp salad later that evening. Neither of them spoke much. With every day that passed, their hope diminished. It was only a little after nine when Colette excused herself and climbed up the stairs to bed.
Surprisingly, she fell asleep almost right away, only to be awakened abruptly by Elizabeth at around ten. “Colette,” the older woman said excitedly, coming into the bedroom and turning on the overhead light. “Christian’s been found! He’s alive!”
Colette immediately sat up and blinked against the bright light and the shock.
“He’s on the phone,” Elizabeth told her.
“You mean now?” Colette cried, thinking this must be part of some wonderful dream.
“Yes, yes! He’s waiting to talk to you.”
“Oh, thank God, thank God.” Tearing aside the sheets, Colette leaped out of bed and raced down the stairs so fast her bare feet slipped on the carpeted steps. Breathlessly, she grabbed the hallway phone.
“Christian? Christian!”
“Colette?” He sounded as if he was phoning from the moon. She heard an echo, and his voice seemed tinny and distant.
“Yes, yes, it’s me! Are you all right? Where are you?” She dashed away tears of relief and joy.
“I’m okay,” he said, “and anxious to get home. I’ll land tomorrow night. Will you be there? I have so much to tell you.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll come to the airport. What time?”
He gave her the airline and flight number while she frantically searched for a pen and paper to write it down. When she had all the details, she repeated them back to him.
“I’ll be there, Christian. I’ll see you tomorrow….” She was so excited now she doubted she’d sleep again.
“Colette, listen,” he said, speaking quickly. “I know I’m throwing this at you out of the blue, but I need to tell you something important. I’m not involved in smuggling. I couldn’t tell you before, but the INS sent me to China. We were cooperating with the Chinese government. I was supposed to make contact with some smugglers. Get evidence.”
“Christian, tell me later. As long as you’re safe…”
“I can’t spend another second having you believe I’m a criminal! Colette, I—”
<
br /> There was a burst of static on the line, cutting him off.
Colette wanted to scream with frustration. “Repeat that,” she pleaded when he came back on. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“I have to go. I love you, Colette. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she cried. The connection was completely broken then, but she held the receiver against her ear, letting his parting words settle over her. He loved her.
After a few minutes, she reluctantly hung up the phone and turned to find Elizabeth standing at the top of the stairs.
“Christian’s coming home!” she shouted. “He’s safe!” That was by far the most important news. Christian who’d been lost had now been found, and even better, he’d soon be on a plane and flying home. “He told me he’s working with the INS—”
“I learned that, too,” his great-aunt interrupted.
“Your sources…”
“I couldn’t get a thing out of them,” she muttered, shaking her head as if to say it was a sad state of affairs when the government didn’t trust her with its business.
“He’s safe,” Colette repeated simply to hear the words again. “He’s safe.”
“I certainly hope he realizes he’s put us both through hell,” Elizabeth said briskly.
“Well, it was hardly his fault,” Colette murmured. Then she smiled, and because it was impossible to hold back the words any longer, she cried, “He loves me.”
Elizabeth sighed impatiently. “I already told you that.”
“I know, but he said it to me himself.” That made all the difference.
The old woman nodded and a slow smile creased her face. She looked more than a little pleased with herself. “Perhaps international intrigue has its uses, after all.” She raised her eyebrows. “An experience like that would make a person appreciate what—or should I say whom—he’s got at home.”
Twenty hours later, Colette and Elizabeth were at Sea-Tac Airport, waiting outside the secure area for Christian and his father to clear customs. Their flight had landed on time and without incident, according to the monitors. Colette should know; she’d checked them often enough.
Colette paced while Elizabeth sat restlessly. “What could be taking them so long?” his great-aunt complained. “I’m an old woman and these seats are a form of torture.”
“He’s with his father, you said.” Colette remembered Elizabeth’s telling her that their relationship had been strained for years.
“I assume so,” Elizabeth said irritably. “How am I supposed to know all this? I assume they’re flying back on the same flight. If so, that’s no guarantee they’re speaking. Both of them are stubborn fools.”
All Colette could do was pray that this misadventure had torn down the walls between father and son. She knew only a little about their history but enough to gather that their estrangement had hurt them both.
People started to emerge from the customs area a few at a time and then finally the door opened and Elliott Dempsey stepped out, followed by his son. Christian looked thin and tired and badly in need of a shave.
Christian immediately searched for Colette. She hurried forward, and the biggest smile she’d ever seen appeared on his face. He held out his arms.
Without a pause, Colette walked into his embrace. For the longest moment all they did was cling to each other. Then he kissed her, his hands cradling her face, his mouth moving over hers. Soon she was crying, her relief overwhelming even her joy. Christian kissed her cheeks, her tears, his unshaven face scraping her skin as they rocked back and forth in each other’s arms.
“Hello, Aunt Elizabeth,” he said after a few minutes, speaking over Colette’s shoulder, still holding her against him.
“Glad to see you, too, young man,” she said with her customary curtness. “I hope you know this nonsense of yours cost me ten years of my life. I’m too old to worry like that.”
“Sorry, Aunt Betty.”
“My name is Elizabeth and you well know it.”
With her arm around Christian’s waist, Colette turned to find Elizabeth glaring at him with tears in her eyes.
Christian released Colette and wrapped his aunt in a fierce embrace, lifting her off the ground.
“Put me down this minute,” she insisted.
“Yes, Aunt Betty.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?”
Elizabeth glanced at Colette and then back at her great-nephew. “As a matter of fact, you can. Marry this woman.” Her gaze shifted to meet Colette’s. “Soon, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Elizabeth,” Colette chided, flushing with embarrassment.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Christian said, smiling down at Colette.
Elliott approached them, dragging a small suitcase. Introductions were quickly made, and Colette studied the older man. So this was Christian’s father. Despite his rumpled clothes and unshaven appearance, he had a dignity that impressed her.
Somehow, the news had gotten out to the press, and as soon as they walked into the main part of the terminal, the small group was bombarded with reporters. The flashes from a dozen cameras nearly blinded Colette, who put her hands in front of her face. Questions were fired at Christian, one after another. He answered a few, then authoritatively steered Colette, his aunt and father toward the car that awaited them.
Elizabeth and Elliott sat on one side of the stretch limo; Christian and Colette sat opposite them.
While his great-aunt and father spoke quietly, Christian whispered in her ear. “Come home with me.” His hand gripped hers. “I need you.”
She nodded. She needed him, too.
When the vehicle stopped at his great-aunt’s home, Colette ran in to collect her things. Elizabeth watched her climb back into the car, a disapproving glint in her eyes. “Make sure there’s a ring on your finger before you give him what he wants,” she said loudly enough for Christian to hear.
“Yes, Aunt Betty,” she teased, and when the older woman frowned, Colette gave her a big hug.
During the short drive from his aunt’s house to his father’s, it became apparent that Christian and Elliott’s relationship had come a long way. They spoke to each other with affection and familiarity, laughing more than once. Christian walked his father to the front door and she watched as the two men exchanged first handshakes and then hugs.
Christian was silent when he returned to the vehicle. “I didn’t know if I’d survive this, Colette. All I could think about was getting back to you.” He reached for her hand again, entwining their fingers. “It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, you know. The government’s occasionally used other businessmen to do this sort of thing in the past. All I had to do was meet with the smugglers—pretend to work with them. A setup, in other words. Then two of them kidnapped me in Beijing and took me to a small rural town in Shanxi province. I still don’t know how they found out. But somehow they were on to me—” He shuddered visibly.
“Tell me the rest later,” Colette said. “The only thing that matters right now is that you’re here.”
They arrived at the house and Christian let them inside. Closing the door, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her until she thought she’d faint with longing and need.
Christian rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a month.”
“I know.” Colette nodded. “Go to bed now.”
Christian leaned back, looking directly into her eyes. “Come with me.”
The temptation was as strong as a riptide. But she shook her head, slowly, regretfully. “We have to talk first.”
His disappointment was obvious.
“Sleep,” she suggested, “and when you wake, I’ll be here.”
He seemed about to argue with her. Instead, he murmured “Good night,” and disappeared into a room at the end of the hallway. She checked on him an hour later and discovered he was dead to the world. He lay str
etched out on the covers, still wearing his clothes.
Colette opened windows to let in the mild June air and disperse the stuffiness of a house that had been shut up for more than three weeks. She found a can of soup in the kitchen, heated that for dinner and phoned Elizabeth to assure the old woman that her morals were safe.
“You tell him he has to marry you,” Elizabeth insisted.
Colette planned to do no such thing.
She slept in a spare room and woke at about seven the next morning, when she heard Christian rummaging in the kitchen. After dressing, she joined him. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully.
She was glad to see that he looked rested. His hair was damp, he’d shaved and wore black slacks and a teal sweater, which highlighted his blue eyes.
“You must be starved,” she said.
“I am,” he agreed, “but before I do anything—other than have a coffee—I want us to talk.”
Colette hadn’t expected it to happen this soon and she wasn’t ready for it. “Let’s sit down,” she said. He’d made a pot of coffee and carried his mug over to the table. She located tea bags and heated water in his microwave.
“I love you, Colette,” he said, just as she took the chair opposite his.
Her lips trembled as she savored his words. “I love you, too.”
“A lot of things happened before I left for China,” he said. He took her hand in his.
“Who were those men that night?”
She didn’t need to clarify her question. “The evening before I flew into China,” he said, “I met with a group of government agents.”
“Those men were with the government?” Colette remembered the two Asian men and had assumed they were involved with the smuggling. Instead they worked for the Immigration and Naturalization Service.
“Just before Christmas, I was approached by some of my contacts—here and in China—about being part of their smuggling operation. They had a system all worked out and wanted to include me. They thought I could manage to get them some sort of cover through my importing business. I went to the INS, who asked me to follow through. Or pretend to, at any rate.”
Colette tightened her fingers around his. “You took a very big risk,” she said in a tearful voice.
Back on Blossom Street Page 31
