“One of my friends overheard Beverly talking, and we were afraid it had something to do with her murder, but we didn’t know who she was talking to.”
“I see.” She handed me the candle container. “Start putting these on the tables.”
I took it and began distributing the candles onto the mirrors in the center of each table.
“No wonder you were asking questions about the volunteers.” Wanda chuckled. “Just so you know, my son took me out to Earl’s house to see the progress on the tractor last Thursday night, and I didn’t want to say anything because of the surprise. Between that and the NRA envelope, I probably looked mighty guilty.” Her eyes shone.
Busted.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No worries. Your heart’s in the right place.”
I finished placing the candles and set the container aside. “Did you notice anything unusual going on at Beverly’s when you were at Earl’s house?”
“No, but we were there well before anything happened. We left about eight or so. Tyler spent the rest of the evening helping me unpack my kitchen.” She raised her eyebrows. “I told Detective Hawk the same thing when she talked to me after the fire.”
I didn’t want to show it, but I felt as if someone had slipped a thousand-pound backpack off my shoulders.
That afternoon, I stepped back and surveyed our handiwork in the chapel at Wildcat Springs Community Church. After we’d finished at the reception hall, Wanda, Pat, and I had moved on to the church where Grandpa had joined us. Having a project had done little to keep my mind off the turmoil with Cal, and every so often, I’d have to stop, take a deep breath, and will away the tears that kept welling in my eyes.
The Winston-Morris clan had done a fine job of decorating in spite of our setbacks. The new batch of trees stood in clusters near the altar and twinkled with the lights.
Grandpa put his arm around me. “Thanks for all your help.”
“You’re welcome.” I glanced around the chapel. Wanda had already left to change for the rehearsal, and we were alone. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
I sat on the carpeted steps that led to the altar. “Would Earl Smith have any reason to spread rumors about you?”
Grandpa snorted as he sat next to me. “Earl Smith doesn’t need a reason to spread rumors other than he flat out enjoys it.” He grimaced. “You heard about what he said to Wanda?”
“Yes.”
“It hurt her feelings, even though she knew it was a bunch of hooey. Hates having people talking nonsense about her loved ones. I took it with a grain of salt. People who know me realize I’d never hurt your grandma. We did our share of bickering and had a couple of big fights in our marriage, but we never went to bed angry.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “And I certainly never laid a hand on her.”
“I know. She’d have thumped you back good if you had.”
He chuckled. “That’s true. As for secrets in the past, the worst I can think of was that Earl, some other guys on our high school basketball team, and I got a hold of some of his dad’s beer one night and drank too much. We egged a few houses.”
I giggled.
“It wasn’t so funny when my dad found out a few days later and blistered my hind end with a switch. I stayed away from Earl after that.”
“Why would he make stuff up?”
“Too much time on his hands. Plus, I think he’s still sweet on Wanda. I’d venture to say he thinks I swooped in on his territory.”
“Did they ever date?”
“Nope. She told me he never bothered to ask her, but she wasn’t interested. Said it would’ve been too strange with Earl being her daughter-in-law’s dad. Could be he regrets not sticking his neck out. I’m sure glad I took a chance.”
I ran my hand over the carpeted step. “How’d you know you wanted to marry Wanda?”
“I asked God about what he thought, and he gave me peace about going ahead.”
Peace from God. Did I have that in my relationship with Cal? It’d been there when we’d started dating, but now I wasn’t so sure.
Grandpa patted me on the back and stood. “I wouldn’t have moved forward without it.”
“It turns out Beverly was helping Wanda with Grandpa’s wedding present,” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was slipping into dressy black pants. My voice was still raspy from the smoke inhalation.
“Good,” Brandi said from my living room. “I feel terrible for putting doubt in your mind.”
Since I’d forgotten to bring clothes for the rehearsal dinner to Mom and Dan’s house, Pat had escorted me to my place so I could change. After checking the house, he was waiting outside in his minivan and would be relieved of his duties as soon as Cal met me at the rehearsal dinner.
Brandi had stopped by with a plate of fresh snickerdoodles. I hadn’t filled her in on my tiff with Cal since I didn’t want to start crying and ruin my makeup. Plus, I wasn’t ready to analyze everything that’d happened.
I pulled a black sweater with silver threads over my head and stepped out of my bedroom. Brandi lounged on my couch rustling through the latest issue of People magazine. Gus lay on his back with his feet in the air. I’d have to keep him away from me unless I wanted dog hair all over my pants.
“You had to say something about what you overheard. What if it’d turned out to be important?” I flipped my hair out of the back of my sweater.
Brandi shut the magazine and tossed it onto my coffee table along with the latest copy of Farm Journal. “That outfit’s cute.”
“Thanks.” I stepped into my black pumps.
“Something else is bothering you.”
I nodded as I sat on the opposite end of the sectional. “How’d you know Brian was the one? Did you know all of a sudden? Did it take a long time? Did you jump in and hope he was the right one?”
She crossed her legs. “I don’t believe there’s only one person out there for you. There are many people with whom you could have a wonderful marriage. God brings possibilities into your life and gives you the wisdom to make a good choice.”
It wasn’t the most romantic notion, but I agreed. I’d never been a fan of the whole soul mate concept, because what if your soul mate got flattened by a semi or married someone else? Were you doomed to walk through life single because one person made a mistake? God was a lot bigger than that.
“How’d you know Brian was a good choice?”
“I prayed about it. Then, one weekend I caught that horrible norovirus that swept through the school—we even had to close for a couple of days because so many kids were sick. The health department came in and cleaned everything.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah. I remember hearing about that.” Brandi and I hadn’t been hanging out at the time.
“Anyway, Brian risked life and limb to come take care of me. He didn’t care if it meant he might get sick. He put on gloves and a mask and charged into my apartment to make sure I was okay. Even though I was puking my guts out, I knew he loved me if he was willing to take care of me like that—when he didn’t have to.”
“Brian was a great guy.”
“I know.” She met my gaze. “Promise me you’ll hold out for God’s best and never settle for good enough.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist. “I promise.”
Chapter Eighteen
When I was in college, my voice professor smoked cigarettes. None of his students could truly believe the sheer hypocrisy coming from a man who lectured us about the necessity of preserving our singing voices, but it was true.
Once, as a joke, a few of my fellow music majors had sneaked into his office and plastered his desk chair with articles about the harm smoking does to the voice.
I might or might not have played a role as lookout.
Professor Conlon was not amused—though nothing had ever come of the incident, because I was certain he’d known we were right.
Honestly, I had no idea how he ever managed to sing, and his habit nev
er seemed to affect his vocal cords. I was a wimp of grand proportions, because when I sang “How Beautiful” during the rehearsal, my raw voice cracked twice.
I’d be taking a vow of silence and chugging lots of honey-laced tea between tonight and tomorrow’s ceremony at four-thirty. Well, as much as Georgia Rae Winston could stay silent. For once, I might learn more by listening than speaking.
When I finished singing, I retreated to the church pew where I watched Pastor Mark walk Grandpa and Wanda through the ceremony.
Cal slipped in and sat beside me. “Pat said you were a good girl today.”
I snickered. “I do know how to behave.”
He put his arm around me. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fine. My voice is a mess, so starting now, I’m done talking until after I sing at the wedding.”
He nodded, but I detected a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. Maybe I was being paranoid. After all, it wasn’t like I wanted to be silent. That wasn’t exactly my strong suit.
I removed my phone and opened a note-taking app.
Any leads on the fire that you’re allowed to share?
He leaned over and whispered, “Wanda was at the church talking with the wedding coordinator. Earl couldn’t have set the barn fire because after he left the bakery, he had a dental appointment. I verified it with Dr. Burke’s office.”
Apparently, Earl was just a jealous liar. At least I wasn’t living next to a murdering pyromaniac.
“Taryn Anderson called and left a message after we left the bakery. Said she remembered that before Earl talked to Wanda, he visited with his buddy Dwight.”
Dwight Winters from the museum?
“Yep. Dwight left right before Wanda sat at Earl’s table.” He glanced around. “Also, Mallory Morris was there picking up an order for the school office, and Fiona Sylvan was there getting a bear claw.”
All while Wanda was on the phone with me talking about the trees?
“Yep. Mallory and Fiona aren’t exactly buddies, and as Taryn said, ‘They gave each other the stink eye.’”
The women had run in the same circle during high school. What had happened? This whole situation was getting more twisted by the minute. I shook my head.
“We’ll figure it out.” He looked around the room at my family members who’d begun filtering in.
Aunt Rhonda slid into the pew next to Cal and extended her hand. “Rhonda Thompson. Georgia’s aunt. I’ve been dying to meet you.”
He shook her hand. “Cal Perkins. And I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
I choked back a laugh.
Puzzlement reigned in her expression for a second. Then she emitted a hearty chuckle. “Good one, Detective.” She pointed at me. “I could tell you stories about this one.”
Please don’t. But part of me was thankful for her interruption that eased the tension.
Cal surveyed me with gleaming eyes. “What have you got on her?”
I opened my mouth to protest and remembered my vow of silence. I narrowed my eyes.
“Well, one summer, she and her brother came to Indy to stay with my husband Gary and me while Ray and Jill went on a trip to Maine to see lighthouses. Anyway, Dakota and my son Eric were angels as usual, but I always had to keep an eye on Georgia and my daughter Michelle. How they could cook up so much trouble was beyond me, but they did.” Aunt Rhonda waved a hand. “One time I caught them launching their baby dolls off our treehouse. Can you believe that? Little girls who ought to have a nurturing side were chucking those poor dollies to the ground. I’d expect that from boys, but girls? I’d have never dreamed of doing that when I was a little kid. I guess it didn’t turn out to be that big of a deal because Michelle has a baby boy of her own and hasn’t dropped him on his head. Jury’s still out on Georgia.”
My face had to look like a pomegranate. Vow of silence. Vow of silence. Vow of silence!
Cal opened his mouth, but Aunt Rhonda wasn’t finished.
“Then there was the time I caught them playing beauty salon. Would you believe they cut the hair off their Totally Hair Barbies?”
“I could see how that’d be tempting,” Cal said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.
Aunt Rhonda shook her head. “Then they decided they wanted to be like those TV chefs and have their own cooking show. Ruined a perfectly good chicken, a skillet, and my favorite spatula. I had to call the fire department. The worst part? That incident scared the two of them out of the kitchen for life. Jill tried her best to get this one”—she pointed at me again, and I decided I should change my name to This One Winston— “into 4-H, but that was a disaster. Michelle isn’t any better in the kitchen, so thank goodness her husband knows how to cook.” She blinked at Cal. “Can you cook?”
“Yes, ma’am. I enjoy it.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” She waved a hand. “I take comfort in knowing my niece won’t starve if she marries you.” She patted Cal on the shoulder and glanced toward our family members that were migrating toward the sanctuary exit. “It was great meeting you. I’d better go find my hubby because it looks like they’re ready for us to head to the restaurant for dinner. I’m starving, and I’d be willing to bet you are too.” She turned to me and whispered, “You’ve picked a good one. Don’t mess things up.” Then she sauntered away.
I folded my hands on my lap and stared at the decorative trees.
Cal leaned over and whispered, “Now I know where you get your talking ability.”
Grandpa hadn’t had much say in the wedding plans but had put his foot down when it was time to decide where the rehearsal dinner would be. June’s Family Restaurant was his favorite, so that’s where the festivities would occur. June’s was known throughout Richard County for fried chicken, so that’s what we’d be having, along with noodles, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn, dinner rolls, and assorted pies for dessert.
When Cal and I entered the banquet room, there were two long tables covered with blue-checkered tablecloths. Several containers of apple butter and Amish peanut butter spread dotted the tables. Next to the wall, a table laden with slices of apple, peach, peanut butter, cream, and cherry pies beckoned us.
I scanned the room in search of seats, and the only place with two remaining places was across from Tyler and Mallory Morris. I led Cal to the table, and we joined them.
“Georgia is resting her voice tonight so she’s in top shape to sing at the wedding tomorrow,” Cal said.
Mallory shot me a sympathetic look. “Is she sick?”
“No. She’s healing from mild smoke inhalation from a barn fire yesterday.”
Mallory furrowed her brow and turned to me. “One of your barns?”
“No. It was the barn on Beverly Alspaugh’s property,” Cal said. “Georgia was picking up decorations Aunt Beverly had made for the wedding when someone shut her in the barn and set it on fire.”
Mallory gasped. “How awful!” Her eyes widened. “Is that the same fire that killed Clara Alspaugh?”
“Yes,” he said.
“My goodness. I didn’t know anyone else was involved. Normally, I slip into the high school library to read the newspaper, but today was insane, so I didn’t get a chance. We had a couple of boys get in a fight, and that was the first one all year, and the assistant principal was out, so I had to take care of everything. I’m Mallory, by the way.”
Cal extended his hand over the table. “Cal Perkins, Georgia’s boyfriend.”
Mallory grasped his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
She put a little too much emphasis on the word pleasure.
“This is my husband, Tyler. Wanda’s his mom.” She pointed at a middle-aged man and woman who were engrossed in entertaining a toddler. “That’s Tyler’s brother Todd and his wife Kelly from Tennessee—and their grandson Liam.” When they looked up, I smiled and waved. We’d met at my church’s Christmas program a couple of months ago.
Both Tyler and Todd had inherited their square jaws from their dad Paul, but years of marri
age to Mallory probably explained the defeated expression in Tyler’s eyes that was absent from his brother’s.
Tyler extended his hand to Cal. “Nice to meet you.”
Mallory leaned forward. “Tell me what you do for a living, Cal.”
“I’m a detective with the Richard County Sheriff’s Department.”
Mallory pressed her hand over her cleavage. “Are you investigating Beverly’s murder?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mallory shook her head. “It’s so awful. I taught with Beverly for years before she retired. She was such a nice lady, and I know how much she meant to my mother-in-law. I’m sure you’ll find who did it. You look very capable.”
Merciful heavens. Mallory had definitely emphasized the word capable. In front of her husband. I nudged Cal’s foot under the table, and he tapped back.
Thankfully, the waitresses began bringing steaming bowls of food. My eyes fell on the platter of chicken, and my stomach rumbled. For the next few minutes we focused on passing the serving dishes and platters.
Tyler struck up a conversation about baseball with Cal, and he looked happier than he had all evening.
“Do you follow baseball?” Mallory asked.
I shook my head.
“I don’t either. I’m a basketball girl.” She rested her fork on her plate that contained a small amount of mashed potatoes and a single chicken wing. “I tell you. I’ve been sick over what happened to Clara. We got to be friends during her senior year after she had a falling out with Fiona Ford—well—it’s Sylvan now.”
I reached for my phone.
What caused the falling out?
She dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Fiona tried to steal your dad away from Clara.”
My eyes widened.
“Oh, yes. Fiona knew a good thing when she saw it, but Ray was loyal to Clara and didn’t encourage her. Still, Clara didn’t want anything to do with her after that. I can’t say that I blame her. I’d have done the same if she’d tried that stunt with Tyler.”
Deadly Heritage Page 14
