Bridesmaid for Hire

by Carter, Chance

  “Are you sure you don't need me to stay?” Jenny asked him. “With what I know?”

  “Let the fire chief come to you once his initial investigation is complete. From what you told me, and from what I’ve see for myself, there will be plenty evidence to support what we know. I promise.”

  Roy hoped his smile would reassure her that everything was going to be alright.

  “Get on with you. I'll come find you soon, and you can stay with me at my cabin.”

  “Okay.”

  Jenny wasn't entirely convinced he was right, but she took Isabelle's hand and led her down the trail that would go behind the house and onto Norma's property.

  “Just relax, okay?” Roy shouted out to them as they were leaving.

  Jenny turned and gave him a wave before continuing on their way.

  Roy watched them disappear before he turned his attention to the crime scene. Chief Cartright was deep in conversation with the fire chief. He inched forward a few steps to hear their conversation better.

  “I'll take it from here,” Chief Cartright said, reaching for the fire chief's notes from the initial investigation. The fire chief was holding back. He kept his notes just out of reach, much to the frustration of Chief Cartright.

  “If you don't mind, Chief Cartright, I'll hold onto these notes for now. This is still my crime scene, after all.”

  “This fire was under suspicious circumstances, was it not? That makes it my business,” Chief Cartright insisted.

  “And when I've concluded that is actually the case, I'll set about making it your business.” The fire chief held his ground firmly.

  “Until then, if you'll excuse me, I have an investigation to run.”

  “You will wind up regretting this.”

  “Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t,” said the Fire Chief snidely as he strode away, his notes in hand.

  Chief Cartright was fuming.

  Roy did nothing to hide that he had been watching the entire exchange when Chief Cartright turned to go back to his squad car. The two rivals glared at each other as they passed.

  It couldn't be any more clear to him that the police were involved, especially Chief Cartright. Rumors indicated Chloe Dale had been stepping out on her husband, but they didn't indicate who she was actually stepping out with. He'd tried numerous times to find out via the usual grapevine, but no one had any idea. If the police were involved in the fire, maybe one of them had been Chloe's mystery man.

  Still, he couldn't imagine what Chloe could possibly see in any of them, and especially not a creep like Cartright.

  “It would be great if you would just pick up and move out of town, Peters. This town could use one less scumbag,” Chief Cartright scoffed as he passed. “Isn't it about time you moved on with your life? Let Joey Dale rot for his crimes?”

  “I don't know. Seems like a big leap when all he's ever done is petty crime. I think you should focus on finding the real murderer.”

  That was enough to get Chief Cartright to stop in his tracks. Roy hadn't noticed his deepening black eye before now. He thought it suited him and made a mental note to point it out to him. He did so enjoy getting a rise out of this asshole.

  “You must be forgetting that he shot his wife, Peters.”

  “I don't think that's ever really been proven, Chief.”

  Chief Cartright stepped toward him, and Roy held his ground. He couldn't resist letting a smirk loose on his lips.

  “I wouldn't if I were you, Chief,” an officer behind him spoke up.

  He briefly held Roy's eyes before dropping them to the ground. Sheep, Roy thought. Sheep being led around by a wolf.

  “Do what he says and back up,” Roy told Chief Cartright firmly. “Get your ass out of here while you still can.”

  “Come on, Chief,” the officer urged again.

  “Okay, okay. I'm going.”

  The Chief held Roy's eyes for a moment longer before turning his back and walking back to his squad car, his officers following behind.

  Roy watched until they were out of sight, then made a beeline for the fire chief to make sure they hadn't missed the blue shards of glass Roy had seen inside the house.

  Roy entered the Dale house an hour later for some of Isabelle and Jenny's belongings.

  The fire chief had asked him to stay out of the house until they could finish up, but being an old friend, he also said he would turn his back if there were anything Roy needed to do. Roy grabbed an old sack from the back of his truck and stuffed it with clothing and toys from Isabelle's room before heading into the guest room to do the same for Jenny.

  He found her duffel bag still packed at the end of the bed. She had been refusing to unpack, still uncomfortable with her fate. This made an easier job of collecting her things. He was almost out of the room when he paused at the door to do one last check around. That was when the glimmer of a shiny piece of paper on the windowsill caught his eye.

  The photo propped against the old frame was of two teenage girls. One was Chloe with her dark, curly hair and her bright beaming smile. He'd only met her on a few occasions but he'd always found her to be lovely. He sensed that Chloe was unsure about him, especially after he had been let go from the police service, but she was kind enough to him when they did speak.

  The other girl was Jenny. The Jenny he had met three days ago was well-manicured and put together. The girl in the photo had a streak of mud across her forehead and a smile that was almost as bright as her best friend’s. They looked like a pair of troublemakers, happy and carefree.

  He tucked the photo in the front pocket of his checkered shirt for safe keeping.

  Roy was at the top of the stairs when he thought to check out Joey and Chloe's bedroom. The door was closed, but he pushed on it nevertheless. It stuck a little in the old door frame before swinging open.

  Sunlight shone through the thin white curtains, sending thin shadows across the big, double bed. Pictures adorned the walls, mostly of Isabelle, but some showed a once happy Joey. A large-framed, family portrait hung above the bed. Joey had his arms around Chloe who had a toddler version of Isabelle perched on her lap. Their old family dog, Patches, stood guard beside them.

  Roy studied it for a while. The family looked happy and secure, as if nothing could break them. If he were good at guessing ages, he would assume it was taken about four or five years ago, back before the rumors had started, before all of this madness.

  He shook his head and turned away.

  That was when he saw it.

  The blood had darkened on the white, shag carpet but the trail was still there leading to a fairly large puddle. Chloe had been shot once in the chest. Then survival instincts had kicked in, and she had pulled herself away from her attacker on her forearms. It was then that she had been shot in the back of the head, ending her life forever.

  Roy couldn't imagine Joey ending his wife's life in such an inhumane way, even if the rumors about her affair had been true. Roy had no doubt that they were. The Ombrea rumor mill was strong and reliable.

  Joey found her body upon returning from work one afternoon. The officer working alongside him claimed that Joey had disappeared for an hour or more before returning to work extremely agitated. Joey explained to him that he had gone home and that while there, he had fallen into yet another blow out with Chloe. He left the house in a huff and drove around town for a half-hour or so to blow off steam.

  The Chief was now claiming Joey had used the time to rid himself of evidence.

  To make matters worse, the gun used to kill Chloe was Joey’s police issued service pistol. Joey claimed that he had taken it off when he returned home. He always removed it when spending time with the family as a precaution. He would leave it in the bedroom with the door tightly closed.

  After his argument with Chloe in the kitchen, he said goodbye to his daughter, and then stormed out of the house leaving the weapon behind.

  Joey explained that when he arrived back four hours later to make amends with Chloe, h
e found her body on the bedroom floor and his service pistol on the end of their bed. He called the paramedics, but it was too late. Isabelle was missing, but it didn’t take long to find her at the neighbor’s house. According to Norma, Chloe had dropped the child off two hours prior claiming she had to run errands.

  But when Norma and Isabelle were out butterfly hunting, Chloe's truck could still be seen from the hill. It was parked in the yard as usual. Norma told Chief Cartright she had almost gone back to the Dale house at that point, finding it strange she wouldn't have come right over to collect Isabelle when she got home.

  Roy couldn't stand to be in the room for much longer. He closed the door gently behind him and descended the staircase. He took one last look around the ground floor before heading out to his truck and loading the belongings into the back seat.

  He cleared a space for Isabelle to sit and quickly tidied his truck.

  He hoped he was doing the right thing.

  Chapter 11

  Jenny followed Roy in her silver Neon to his cabin on the outskirts of town. He sent the girls inside to make themselves at home while he gathered their things from the back of his truck.

  Jenny came out a while later with her car keys in her hand.

  “Not making a break for it, are you?” he asked as she unlocked her car. “If so, this cabin is pretty much in the middle of nowhere. You might need a map.”

  “As much as I want to head out of here, I'm not going anywhere,” she responded.

  She pulled open the back door and dug around under the seat.

  “I thought I saw one of Isabelle's books in here this morning.”

  “That's kind of you to fetch it for her.”

  Jenny shrugged. She found the beautifully illustrated book and closed the car door.

  “I'm just trying to make her feel more comfortable,” she told him.

  “Don't worry too much,” he responded as they walked side by side up to the cabin's front door. “It is just going to take a little time for you both to adjust to your new arrangement. I’m sure that the two of you are going to make it through just fine.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  Jenny knew Roy was trying to be nice, but what she really craved right now was some alone time.

  She couldn't help but feel grateful to him for having offered her and Isabelle use of his cabin until they could figure out what to do next. She hated the idea of checking into a hotel on the other end of the town. It would have only made their situation even more awkward and uncomfortable than it already was.

  Jenny was surprised by how large the cabin was. It had to be at least three bedrooms with a spacious living and kitchen area. A small study led off one of the guest bedrooms, but to respect his privacy, she hadn't taken too long of a look in there. The bathroom at the far end of the hall looked inviting after her ordeal, but a cleanup would just have to wait.

  She checked in on Isabelle and gave her the book. Isabelle took it gratefully but without comment. Jenny wished Isabelle knew she could confide in her. It would make things easier if they could be open and honest with one another.

  Isabelle stood up and carried the book to a more private place in the next room. This relationship was going to take some time.

  Jenny and Roy went out to the wooden deck at the front of the cabin. Isabelle had resumed her silence. She hid behind her book, grateful for the solitude it provided.

  “Someone knew what they were doing,” Roy told her as he unscrewed the lid of his whiskey bottle.

  He set out two shot glasses and poured a liberal amount of alcohol into each.

  “What do you mean?” Jenny asked him as she took a seat.

  “They were trying to kill two birds with one stone. The crime scene. That's now destroyed, leaving us no hope of finding any new evidence. And then, of course, there's you.” He nudged her shoulder with a soft fist.

  “But look at you, trooper. You survived despite the odds.”

  “It's a miracle.” Jenny joked sarcastically as she reached for the open whiskey bottle.

  The first shot went down so easy. A little buzz wouldn't hurt after the day she’d had.

  “You should take it easy on the whiskey,” Roy suggested taking a seat beside her. “Your throat has been through a hell of an ordeal today.”

  “My whole body feels like it's been put to the test,” Jenny responded, downing the second shot. To ease his mind, she set the bottle aside for the time being. She leaned back against the deck chair sighing.

  “The house is a write off, isn't it?”

  “It sure is. But the great thing about houses is that they can be rebuilt.”

  “But memories can't be replaced. I can only imagine what was lost today in that house.”

  “I'd rather that they lost those precious memories than you or Isabelle,” Roy reminded her sharply, his finger gesturing at her chest. “You came awfully close to the end today.”

  “Because I was a damn chicken, right?”

  “What the-”

  “I hid under the kitchen table, Roy. I was hardly a hero in there.”

  “Hey, you listen to me!”

  His voice rose and she fell silent.

  “It was madness in there. With the smoke and heat, hell, I didn't even know in which direction I was heading. I don't blame you for finding a hiding spot in all that chaos.”

  He reached angrily for the whiskey bottle and poured himself a healthy shot before knocking it back. He rose to his feet.

  “I'll go check on the kid.”

  * * *

  Jenny watched as he strolled into the house, the screen door slamming behind him. She remained where she was, a part of her wanting to follow him in and another wanting to keep her distance. He was so damn hot, but that paled in comparison to the feelings that were starting to bloom after he risked his life to rescue her from the fire. What kind of guy would do such a selfless thing, she wondered.

  She was unsure what to make of Roy. At times he was distant and unapproachable, but lately, she had seen a friendlier, gentler, more generous side of him. She was never sure which side of him she was going to get.

  It was clear he had a hold on her. She quickly learned that Roy had a way of jumping to anger, but he told it to her straight and that, she could appreciate.

  She reached for the whiskey bottle one last time and poured herself a shot. She paused a moment and held it up to the sky.

  “To Chloe,” she said aloud. “I'm really missing you down here.”

  When Jenny stepped back into the house with the whiskey bottle in tow twenty minutes later, she hoped he had settled down some.

  She had spent the past few minutes crying. It felt good to release the emotion and stress that had collected inside her over the past three days. She cried especially hard over the loss of her best friend.

  She and Chloe had been close since ninth grade. They had bonded at high school orientation and had clung to each other for safety ever since.

  In Chloe, Jenny had found the perfect best friend. Chloe’s happy disposition and positive outlook on life had helped Jenny through many difficult times and her periods of depression. The death of her parents in grade school was extremely difficult for Jenny, and it remained difficult even after so much time had passed. Chloe had a knack for bringing her around whenever she got to feeling low.

  Without Chloe, she would have had to fight her inner demons alone. She owed it to Chloe to do right by her daughter.

  Jenny just wasn't sure how she was going to do that. These past three days they had been put to the test, and she still didn't believe she was any closer to forging a friendship with Isabelle. Lack of a proper home was not going to help.

  At the sound of the front door closing, Roy stepped out from the kitchen. His face revealed that he was still embarrassed by what had transpired outside.

  She cut to the chase.

  “You were right, you know? I wasn't a chicken.”

  “Well,” he said, holding up his thumb and fore
finger, indicating a small gap between them, “maybe you were just a little bit of a chicken.”

  “Hey, that's enough of you,” she said laughing.

  “You must be ready to settle in for the night.”

  Despite their jokes, he looked just as nervous with this awkward arrangement as she was.

  She was thankful that Isabelle was so easy going about it. That little girl had a lot of guts to to handle what had been thrown her way.

  “You know what? I'd kill for a shower.”

  She regretted her choice of words and cringed. Isabelle, tucked away by the window with her book, seemed to have missed her slip up.

  She reiterated, “A hot shower would be nice.”

  “Of course.”

  Roy pointed down to the end of the hall.

  “It's the very last door down there. The water heater is a little testy, so don't step into the tub too fast after you turn on the taps.”

  “Thanks for the heads up. And clean towels?” she asked as she headed in the direction of the bathroom.

  “There's a cupboard in there. Guest towels are on the top shelf.”

  “Have a lot of guests, do you?”

  She smiled mischievously over her shoulder.

  “A few.”

  He let slip a short sexy smile.

  “None that were here for protection, but they say there’s a first time for everything.”

  Chapter 12

  Jenny closed the bathroom door with a grin.

  He had to hand it to her, the woman had guts. It had been only a couple hours since he'd pulled her from the burning structure that had been her brother’s home. Even covered with soot and dirt, she could still manage a joke and a smile.

  For a moment, he considered what his wife, Natalie, would have done had she been in the same situation. She wouldn't have handled it quite so well. Natalie had a temper to match his. Their fight on the night she died was proof of it. If he knew his wife, she would have gone marching right up to that police station demanding justice. As much as her temper could infuriate him at times, he found it was one of the things he loved most about her. Her strong will and tough demeanor were two of her most endearing qualities.