Jeremy hopped up and down to wake up, to get the blood flowing to his brain. He felt like he was in shock or something. Not thinking. Snap out of it. She’s in my apartment. He clutched his head and sucked in three deep breaths.
Calm down, you idiot.
He searched the cupboard for a clean cup for her coffee. The milk was still okay but the cream had gone off. No sugar. Did she take sugar? Jeremy couldn’t remember. If you love a woman, you should know how she takes her coffee.
Was his breath okay? He held his hand to his mouth and breathed into it. Just as he thought—morning breath. Would she think it weird if he left her to go brush his teeth? Yes. She would. Any girl would. She’d think he was going to make a pass at her if he brushed his teeth.
Better keep your distance.
Sounds like a plan.
Jeremy filled their mugs with fresh brewed coffee and then looked around for something to put them on. He found a tray at the back of the cupboard. He pondered its appearance in his apartment and then realized Miss Shannon must have left it behind. At the last minute, he cut up the day-old cinnamon bun he was saving for dessert and added it to the tray. Jeremy took a breath and carried everything into the living room.
Jocelyn was huddled on the floor under the throw blanket, staring at the cold and sooty hearth.
“Can you make a fire in this thing or is it just for show.”
“Are you cold?” he asked, surprised.
“I rode my bike here. It’s March. There’s still snow on the ground so yeah, I’m cold.”
“You don’t have to bite my head off. It was an innocent question.”
He set the tray on the floor beside her. “Here, drink this. The coffee’s hot. It’ll warm you up. Yes, I can make a fire in this thing. It’s a working fireplace,” he added proudly. “And then you can tell me what’s going on.”
Chapter 3: Who Dun It?
THEY BENT over the sheet of paper like a forensics team. The paper was fine quality, unlined, pamphlet-sized. There was a straggling word or two at the frayed edge where it had been torn.
“I know what this is,” Shelby said excitedly. “Don’t you guys recognize it? Doesn’t anybody go to church anymore?”
“Weddings and funerals,” said Jason, “and I’m usually working them, so no, I haven’t got a clue what it is. What is it?”
“This was torn from the back of the order of service the church prints up each week. It’s blank but do you see that letter and the number at the edge of the tear? That’s the reading. John: fifteen-five.”
“Wow.” Andrea bent closer. “Whoever stuffed this in the camera bag did it at the wedding ceremony. No one noticed in all the excitement of Scout going into labor.”
“Trust Scout to take the whole natural birth thing to heart. Not me. I’m going to have this kid in a hospital and I want drugs.” Shelby squinted at the words that were scrawled in blue ink over the blank white square. “Does the handwriting look familiar to you guys? It doesn’t to me ... it’s so sloppy, it has to have been written by a young person.”
“Or an old person trying to make it look like a young person wrote it,” Trevor said stuffily. “We have to figure out who was in the vicinity of the camera case to narrow down the list of suspects.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We go to the church and reenact the scene of the crime. Then we go through our photo files to find the person who was in the right place at the right time and had motive to mess with Jocelyn and Jeremy.”
“Or the Gazette,” Jason added. “We could be the actual target. We’re making waves in this town.”
“Making waves,” Andrea snorted. “Jason Fiske, the Gazette’s resident conspiracy theorist. I guess every newspaper has one.”
“Someone on this team has to ask the tough questions. God knows you don’t, Tarnham.”
“Okay, team to the bat mobile!” Trevor called on his way out the door. “Boss, you coming?”
Shelby shook her head, reaching for the phone to return Sawyer’s call. “I’ll wait here for the affronted parties to arrive and ream me out or threaten to sue, whichever comes first. I’m calling the cops for back up. You guys go. Enjoy sleuthing but don’t get carried away. Be back here for the story meeting in one hour.”
She winced as they banged the door behind them and punched the button on speed dial that connected the Gazette to the Sheriff’s Office. Seconds later, Sawyer’s voice came on the line and she smiled as she always did when she remembered he was hers.
Between love and baby hormones, she was losing her edge.
♥
SCOUT RUTHERFORD-DEAN pored over the classified ad, her finger pressed to her mouth. She sat cross-legged on the bed with the Gazette spread out before her.
“Call Hudson and find out if he knows anything. You guys work with Jeremy; he must have said something to you about Jocelyn.”
Ryder sat in the big armchair in the corner of their bedroom, half-asleep, with his two infant sons in his arms. “I can’t call Hudson,” he yawned. “He’s on his honeymoon. And he hates me for wrecking his wedding ... so ... no.”
“He doesn’t hate you. You were his best man. Would it help if we offered to name one of the boys after him?”
“No. Aren’t you tired? The doctor said you should sleep when the boys sleep.”
“You know me, I’m never sleepy.” Scout frowned over the classified. “This is fascinating stuff here, Ryder. It’s a mystery. What possessed Jeremy Marks to ask Jocelyn Tate to marry him? I saw them together at the opening night party for The Gift of the Magi at Christmas and she did not look interested to me.”
“Maybe he convinced her. Stranger things have happened in this town.”
She looked up to see Ryder drifting off to sleep, balancing the two babies in his arms. He hadn’t put them down from the minute they were born. Lydia Rutherford was getting a little antsy. Scout moved to the chair, gently lifted her sons from his arms and laid them in their bassinets and then covered her husband with a blanket. Poor sweet guy. He was exhausted. Ryder had a crazy idea that because they had twins they were finished making babies. Scout laughed softly. She was only just getting started.
The best is yet to be, my love.
She pulled on her bathrobe and hustled down the stairs of the old farmhouse to find her mother in the kitchen making breakfast. Lydia was bound to know something about this mystery engagement notice. Lydia, unlike Ryder, had her ear to the ground when it came to the love lives of the locals. But her info would be sketchy at best. Lydia had missed the reception—they had all missed the reception. What happened to shove Jocelyn into Jeremy’s arms?
It could’ve been anything, Scout mused. A person only had to look at Scout and Ryder to know that anything was possible in Mandrake Falls.
♥
RYAN MCINTYRE drank his coffee very slowly all the while pretending he was not bothered by the engagement notice.
He set his cup down on the table. No one in the diner seemed to notice he was bothered. He felt bothered, he felt plenty bothered. He had only asked Jocelyn Tate to the wedding because he thought she had no one to go with. Jocelyn had screwed up in a way similar to Ryan’s screw-up last fall and people forgave him. He thought he’d return the favor and give Jocelyn a chance to show her face in public again. She was too young for him but she was a stunningly good-looking girl, and not-bad company. She owned a nice little business at the Country Barn. If she was engaged to another guy, she should have said something for God’s sake.
He was forced to admit, he would’ve kept the information to himself too if he were in her shoes. Ryan was a more prestigious date than Jeremy Marks. To get out from under the cloud, Jocelyn had to be seen with the most powerful man in town. Ryan understood. He was always playing an angle too.
Only this time he wasn’t playing an angle and that’s what galled him. This time he was being a straight-up good guy and look where it got him. Now the women in town were going to think he was a) the Other M
an in a love triangle or b) Jocelyn needed only one date with Ryan McIntyre to run howling into Jeremy Marks’ arms.
Both scenarios sucked and were bound to cripple his love life. Sawyer would know how to handle this. Ever since his brother married Shelby Porter, he’d become somewhat of an expert on women.
Ryan downed his coffee, threw a bill on the table and jogged across the sundrenched street to the Sheriff’s Office.
♥
JASON, ANDREA and Trevor took up positions and aimed their cameras at the same angles they’d used during the wedding. Sunlight streamed into the church from the high arched windows. Some had stained glass in them and some didn’t. Patches of color drifted over their faces.
Andrea set her camera case in roughly the same place it was during the birth. She couldn’t remember the exact spot. “And Jason, grinding your teeth isn’t helping me to remember so knock it off. I came down the stairs, dumped the case and starting shooting. You know what Porter would’ve done if I didn’t get the shot. She would’ve fired my ass and found someone who could get the shot. She’s hardcore. Did you see her vault over that pew to reach Scout?”
Trevor chuckled admiringly. “Yep, the boss is a pit bull for a story. But back to our mystery.” He retraced the movements Andrea had made. “You set your bag down here and then turned away and pushed through the crowd to get the shot. Who was sitting in the pew?”
Andrea frowned. “It could’ve been someone sitting in the pew in front or behind as well. Anyone with easy access. Which means they had to be nearby because with the crowd, access wasn’t easy. Some people were standing on the pews to see what was going on. I know I was to get the photograph.”
“Right. So you set the case down and turned away. Now try to remember the faces you saw.”
“Letitia Murdoch. She was standing here.” Andrea indicated the pew in front of the case. “Ryan McIntyre was here with Jocelyn Tate.” She pointed to the seat behind and slightly right of the case. “And though she wasn’t sitting in this spot originally, when I turned around, Paula Dunlop was behind me trying to get close to the action. She stood on the pew to get a better look. She’s short so that’s probably all there was to it.”
“Where was Jeremy?” Jason asked sharply.
“You really have it in for that guy, don’t you?” Andrea sighed. “I don’t know where he was but he should be in one of the shots we took of the assembly before the wedding started.”
Jason nodded. “Okay. Who else was in the area?”
“That’s it. That’s all I can remember.”
“Letitia Murdoch. Ryan McIntyre. Jocelyn Tate. Paula Dunlop and Jeremy Marks.” Jason ticked off the list of suspects.
“And Andrea,” Trevor added calmly.
Jason and Andrea both stared at their fellow reporter.
“Andrea doesn’t have a motive, asshole. We’re looking for someone with motive.”
Trevor looked grieved. “Hey, I’m just throwing it out there. Just doing my due diligence. The fact is, Andrea was in the right place at the right time and she’s holding the smoking gun. Not one of those people you listed could’ve known the ad would run by sticking it in a reporter’s camera case. Only Andrea knew she could get it to print on time on Sunday. Andrea is in charge of the classifieds. She has the template on her computer. I think Andrea is our culprit.”
Andrea picked up a hymn book and threw it at Trevor. “Motive, idiot! What motive do I have for risking my job by running a bogus ad?”
Trevor ducked and then smiled complacently. “I don’t care if you did it or not. It’s not a deal breaker as far as crimes go. And you weren’t risking your job. Come on. Porter would never fire us because she’d have to pay our replacements an actual living wage and we all know that’s not going to happen. Your motive was love. You’re in love with Ryan McIntyre and you were jealous that he asked Jocelyn to the wedding.”
This time Jason laughed; a barking scoff of laughter that died off when Andrea burst into tears.
“You are a shit, Trevor,” she wailed. “You are a total shit. Ryan McIntyre is at least ten years older than me and he doesn’t even know I exist. So screw you and your shitty, warped little theories. I didn’t stick that paper in my camera case. I found it just like I said I did. Whatever feelings I may have for Ryan McIntyre are personal. I’d never let them interfere with the paper and I fucking hate you for suggesting that I would!”
She spun around on one heel and marched out of the church, slamming the door behind her.
Jason raised his hands and turned on Trevor. “What the hell is the matter with you? What’s going on here?”
Trevor frowned and shook his head. “A lot of bad language is flying around, that’s what’s going on. Dude, we’re in a church. Show a little respect.”
♥
JEREMY BLEW on the embers to avoid looking directly at her. Her hair was a mess and she had dark circles under her eyes but that didn’t mean anything. Everyone in town would be sleep-deprived after the weekend they’d had. Now that she was here and had his undivided attention, Jocelyn seemed reluctant to talk.
At last, he got the fire going. He held his hands up to the flames even though he wasn’t cold. If anything, he was getting overheated sitting so close to her. Jeremy picked up his coffee and casually lay back, propped on one elbow and tried not to sweat. His heart was pounding but she didn’t seem to know he was in the room. Jocelyn stared at the fire, her hands wrapped around her coffee.
“Help yourself to a cinnamon bun. Sorry it’s not the whole bun. I cut it up to share. If you’re hungry. Are you getting any warmer?”
She nodded.
“Where are your earmuffs?”
Jocelyn shot him an icy stare. “I’m a total joke around here, aren’t I? An earmuff wearing co-ed chasing after the great Hudson Grace. What a joke.”
“No! No, you’re not. You made one mistake and it wasn’t even a big one. The guy is on his honeymoon; Scout Rutherford had twins during their ceremony for crying out loud. You’re stale news, Joce.” He tried to laugh but it was tough to do when her misery over Hudson Grace was like a knife slicing into his chest.
“They took Simon to Disney World for their honeymoon. It was her idea—Michael’s. She wanted the kid to have fun.” Jocelyn picked forlornly at a piece of cinnamon bun. “I wouldn’t have done that. I would’ve made Hudson get a babysitter for the kid and booked tickets to New York or Montreal for our honeymoon. I thought he was a playboy. I had him wrong. Completely—totally—wrong.”
“Yeah well,” Jeremy said without enthusiasm, “don’t beat yourself up about it. You followed your heart and that’s brave. So ... good for you.” He raised his coffee mug in salute.
Jocelyn twisted and gave him a searching look. The firelight danced over her hair. “Is that why you did it? You were following your heart?”
He sat up. “What did I do? You seem to think I know what you’re talking about or why you’re here. I don’t. What happened?”
She reached behind her to drag the newspaper over. Jocelyn flipped the pages to the Classifieds, folded the paper in half and handed Jeremy the section.
His eye was drawn to the announcement. “We’re engaged?” he said stupidly.
“You’re going to have to do better than that. Look—you screwed up. We’ve all been there. But you’re going to have to tell people you put this in the paper or I’m going to look like the saddest loser in town. I’m truly pissed with you, but I kind of get how the whole doomed love thing sucks and can make a person crazy.”
Jeremy jumped to his feet, slopping hot coffee on his sweatshirt. “Crazy, sure—I understand crazy—but not delusional! I didn’t put that ad in the paper; you’re an idiot for thinking I would. April Fools’ Day, Jocelyn? Did you even read this before you flipped out and assumed it was me? I’m going to look like the loser in this—not you!”
“April Fools’ Day?” Jocelyn frowned and read the announcement again. “Oh God, I didn’t even notice that. Oh, I get i
t. You’d have to be a fool to marry me. Hah. Someone has a warped sense of humor. But that doesn’t prove it wasn’t you who’s behind this.”
Jeremy forgot he was in love with her, forgot how she made him feel whenever he was around her. Jeremy crouched beside her, paper in hand. His lips felt numb. “It says here the parents of Jeremy Marks announce the engagement. Mr. and Mrs. Marks.”
“Yeah. So what’s your point? Are you’re trying to blame your parents for this?”
“I don’t have parents. There’s only my dad and he wouldn’t put a notice in the paper that mentioned his wife since she’s been dead for twenty-one years. My mom is dead. I wouldn’t put something like this in the paper. And I sure as hell want to know who did.”
Chapter 4: Sleuths and Suspects
ANDREA SULKED through the story meeting even though Trevor had apologized for his behavior. Jason looked fairly miserable and Shelby didn’t know what the hell was going on. Her staff had left the office as friends and returned as combatants.
Shelby closed her laptop and got to her feet. They weren’t paying attention anyway. “I’ve got an appointment with the Sheriff. Jason, you’re in charge. Find out who placed the ad so we have a name to give Jocelyn when she shows up and then offer her the usual bells and whistles to apologize.”
“It’s not an appointment when it’s your husband you’re meeting, boss. It’s just lunch.”
Boy, Andrea was really pushing her luck today with the snarky remarks, Shelby thought as she rushed out of the door to meet Sawyer. Publishing the Gazette was like running a kindergarten these days.
Jason waited until the boss was gone to pull out his notebook. “Snap out of it, you two. Whatever’s going on, get over it. Jocelyn isn’t going to let this mistake go without a fight so we’d better figure it out. Andrea, we know you didn’t run the ad on purpose so stop moping and think. Who had motive to place that notice?”
Love Rising: Spring (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 4) Page 3
