“You, Miss Steele, are under arrest for trespassing. Your friend, Bryce, has been singing like a bird. Apparently now isn’t the first time you’ve broken into this house, and you’d better believe I’m going to make the charges stick, no matter what Ed McNeil might have to say about it.” He turned to Jason. “Cantor, secure that prisoner and then come back to get this one.”
There was a part of Lacy that wanted to hear what Jason had to say. Would he refuse? But on the off chance that he wouldn’t, she decided to jump in and save him from saying anything at all.
“You can’t arrest a person for entering her own house.”
The detective did look in danger of apoplexy when she explained that she owned the Blake house and all its contents.
“As a matter of fact, Detective, you are the one who is now trespassing in my house. I would appreciate it if you would leave. Now,” she finished, then crossed her arms as she waited for him to walk away.
He looked mutinous, but he somehow restrained himself from saying another word. Instead, he pivoted on his heel, walked to his car, and squealed his tires as he drove away.
She and Jason looked at each other, locking eyes over Peggy’s bent, weeping head. So quick she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it, he winked at her, and then he led Peggy out with his arm around her shaking shoulders for support.
Lacy sagged against the counter, suddenly drained of all energy. Tosh moved closer, resting his hand on her shoulder, and she tensed.
“Lacy, please,” he started, but she cut him off.
“Not now. Just not now. I need some time.”
“All right,” he said softly. With a final goodbye to her grandmother and Mr. Middleton, he let himself out.
“Lacy, are you going to tell Frannie?” Lucinda asked.
“No, Grandma, I think that needs to be your call,” Lacy said. “But I do think she deserves the right to get to know her father, and him her.”
Lucinda and Mr. Middleton looked at each other, considering. “I can’t imagine what it would do to her to learn the truth after so many years,” Mr. Middleton said. “I don’t want to hurt her or turn her world upside down.”
“What if she gets to know him in a different capacity? As my, er, gentleman friend?” her grandmother said, blushing faintly.
Lacy blinked at the older couple in surprise. “I think that would be just great,” she said. But when the initial shock wore off, she felt elated over the prospect, and soon she was hugging both her grandma and Mr. Middleton.
Somehow it was appropriate that in addition to her grandmother’s happy ending being released from jail, she should also find her very own Prince Charming. Now if only I could find mine, Lacy thought.
Outside in the driveway a car started, and Lacy didn’t know if it was Tosh or Jason.
Epilogue
“Are you sure you forgive me?”
“Tosh, I’m sure. Please stop asking me that,” Lacy replied as they walked up the sidewalk to Barbara Blake’s house. She wondered how long it would take until she stopped thinking of it that way and started thinking of it as her house.
“But I messed up, Lacy. I’m embarrassed by my weakness, and mortified that you had to be the one to see it. I panicked by not telling you everything, and you were so brave and composed throughout the whole ordeal.”
She knew these words almost by heart because he had said them to her--repeatedly--and written them on the note he sent with a dozen roses. Twice. They reached the house and she turned to face him. “Tosh, please stop apologizing. It’s all over and done. I probably would have forgiven you sooner if I hadn’t been dealing with so much at the time. You neglected to tell me you had pie, you didn’t burn down an orphanage. It’s fine; we’re fine.”
He took her hand and looked at it, playing with her fingers while he spoke. “You know what the hardest part of being a pastor is?”
She shook her head.
“It’s trying to figure out how to be a man, too. People are watching me, waiting to learn by my example. I have to be extra careful not to make the wrong move, to go slowly, to keep appearances as well as actions on the up and up.”
“I know, Tosh,” she said. “And I appreciate that about you.”
“Yes, but how much do you appreciate it?” he asked. “In the kind of way that you tolerate it because we’re friends, or in the kind of way that you’re willing to be patient with me and wait for things to progress beyond our friendship?”
“I…” The question caught her totally off guard, rendering her speechless.
Tosh pressed his index finger lightly to her lips. “Don’t answer that tonight. Think about it.” He removed his finger, leaned down, and pressed a light kiss to her lips. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asked, resting his forehead on hers.
She shook her head and opened her eyes. “No. Thank you, but I really just want to be alone to sort through her things and try to figure out what to do next.”
“All right. Call if you change your mind.” He grasped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, casting a longing look at her lips, and then he left.
Lacy let herself in her house and made her way to the master bedroom. Pulling out all the shoes from the closet, she looked at the size on the bottom. Apparently she and her grandmother had more in common than their hair and eye color; they had the same size feet. But to Lacy, this wasn’t good news. If the shoes had been the wrong size, she could easily have given them away.
But now before her sat thousands of dollars worth of designer shoes that looked brand new. And they were her size. Keeping them felt wrong, but so did giving them away. These items were the only tangible reminder of her biological grandmother. Should that mean anything?
Her phone rang and she picked it up, not paying attention to the caller ID. “Lacy, it’s me.”
Lacy’s heart felt like it stopped beating. “Riley,” she choked.
“I have some news, and I wanted you to hear it from me first. Robert and I are getting married.”
Lacy tried to swallow and couldn’t. “Congratulations,” she choked, and then she hung up. Her lips were numb, and the room swam. She lay down, put her feet in the air, and some of the sensation began to return to her extremities.
The doorbell rang and she stumbled down the hall, throwing open the door without looking to see who it was.
“Lacy, are you okay?” Jason asked. She hadn’t seen him since the day he arrested Peggy, two weeks ago. She had wanted to call, but she didn’t know what to say, and she was afraid of the possible rejection.
She nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re crying,” he said. Taking a step closer, he swiped his fingers on her cheek and held them up so she could see the moisture.
“Oh,” she said. She sniffled, and it was as if a dam burst. She put her hands over her face and sobbed. Jason herded her into the house and closed the door behind them.
“What’s wrong?”
His gentle, tender tone made everything worse. She cried until she hyperventilated. He searched the kitchen, returning with a paper bag for her to breathe into, and then he led her to the couch, sat, and put his arms around her.
She leaned against his chest, thinking how good it felt to be held.
“Is this about your grandma?” he asked.
She removed the paper bag and laughed bitterly. “It should be,” she said thickly. “You would think that after learning my grandma isn’t my grandma and that my actual grandmother is dead would have some effect on me, but it hasn’t. I’m happy Grandma is home, and I’m happy she’s dating Mr. Middleton now.”
“Then what is it?” he asked. His fingers trailed softly up and down her arm.
“My sister is getting married,” she choked.
“Oh,” he said, still clearly confused.
“This is so humiliating,” she said. She hunched forward and put her head in her hands again.
He rested his palm on her back. “Lacy, lots of little sister
s get married first. You’re only twenty-five. There’s nothing embarrassing about that.”
“You don’t understand,” she said.
“Then explain it to me.”
She looked up at him, trying to think of a way to explain without feeling like a fool and a failure when their eyes caught and held. The atmosphere crackled with electricity. Lacy sat on her knees, scooting closer. Jason froze and watched her as she cupped his face between her palms and drew him closer.
“You said no kissing,” he reminded her.
“I said a lot of stuff,” she whispered. “It’s time to stop listening and start doing.”
“Done and done,” he said, and then he kissed her.
*Although this book is a work of fiction, Lacy’s favorite prune cake is all too real and just so happens to be one of my favorites, too. In order not to infringe on copyright restrictions, I couldn’t print the recipe. But if you are interested, the recipe I use is from Ree Drummond, the Pioneer Woman. I urge you to check out her blog and cookbook, both of which are amazing. And so is the prune cake--rich, moist, spicy, and topped with caramel. Even if you don’t like prunes, this cake is a winner!
Morning Cup of Murder Page 19
