by Leslie Caine
“My heavens. Your mother raised you to be incredibly gracious. But, Erin, I need you to hear me out.” Eleanor perched on the edge of the bed; I had too much adrenaline to sit. “I heard about Aunt Bea, of course, and how you had to be interrogated by the police at length yesterday…right when you should have been spending the day happily with your bridesmaids. I owe you so much. I was scared out of my mind that Michelle had killed Fitz, thanks in no small part to my horrendous bad judgment regarding Fitz. I honestly couldn’t think straight. But she’s innocent. You solved two murders. And you saved my daughter from imprisonment. She’s finally decided to file for divorce. Mark’s moving to Spain next month. He has a brother there who’s taking him on as a business partner.”
“Wow. That’s surprising, to put it mildly. What are they doing about his parental rights?”
“He’s giving them up. Michelle didn’t to go into many details, but apparently, he lost his temper and shoved her on the sidewalk, in front of a witness last night. That’s why he’s agreed to leave the country. In exchange for her not filing charges, he’s going to be out of my family’s lives once and for all.”
“Which means he’s out of my family’s lives, too,” I said. “That’s wonderful!”
“Yes.” She smiled at me with obvious sincerity. “I’m so lucky to be getting you as my one and only daughter-in-law.”
“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”
“I’ve never disliked you, Erin. Quite the opposite. You’re a sweet, yet strong young woman...exactly the sort of person I envisioned Steve wanting to spend his life with. It’s just that, truth be told, I hoped that he’d wind up with someone who wasn’t in his field, let alone his business partner. He’s had his heart broken so badly with that con artist who went into business with him.”
“Yes. I knew her. And I understand how much of a déjà vu our union must have seemed to be.”
“With the operative word being ‘seemed.’ You’re nothing like her. I went from rags to riches in terms of my daughter-in-law. I’m so fortunate that you are still marrying into my family despite all of its quirks and drama. Not to mention our false confessions. We’ve behaved like characters in a terrible soap opera.”
Blessed by our drastically improved relationship, I smiled at her. “One with an extraordinarily happy ending.”
“Indeed.”
Eleanor gave me a hug, and we reentered the living area. She exchanged goodbyes with all of us, then she gave me a proud, maternal-looking smile and said, “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”
Audrey ushered her out the door, then turned toward me and said, “Well, Erin. It’s time to seal this thing for all eternity.” She held my gaze, and I could see the mixture of pride and excitement in her eyes. “Are you ready for your grand entrance?”
“I do,” I said. Then I laughed and said, “Just kidding. I am. Let’s go.”
Pachabel’s Canon in D minor started playing, which I’d selected simply because it’s so beautiful. But as Audrey and I walked down the aisle, I was grinning at the thought that I would have preferred to have been gyrating to “Tell Me What You Want” by the Spice Girls as I moved toward Steve. It was probably fortunate that tastefulness had prevailed, however. I knew that the loving expression on Steve’s face was priceless, and that I would remember it for as long as I lived. And, dear lord, but the man knew how to wear a tuxedo!
The priest spoke the “dearly beloved” phrase that I’d heard countless times. For the first time, I grasped its full meaning. I couldn’t possibly have loved the people gathered here to witness this sacred event in my life any more than I did. My heart was full of gratitude and love.
To my surprise, Audrey started getting more and more emotional during the ceremony and was weeping audibly during our exchange of vows. She was sitting in the front row, immediately beside the aisle. I saw Steve hesitate and glance down at her. That must have set off his reaction to how phenomenal this moment was. Up to that point, I had been keeping a lid on my own emotions, despite Audrey’s sniffles. But when Steve’s voice cracked, I started crying, too.
In an obvious ad-lib, Steve said, “You’re the woman who makes me so happy I can cry. I’m so blessed to be able to spend the rest of my life with you.”
During the reception, I was swept into a joyous buzz in which all I could feel was overpowering love and happiness. I kept pausing and telling myself to remember this moment—every smile on every face, every embrace, every amazing conversation with our one-hundred-plus well-wishers. I wanted to always be able to picture a panoramic view of the hall, with its sweeping view of stunning scenery: mountains, woods, and Crestview Creek. Of the strings of lights on the ceiling that recaptured the beauty of a starry sky. The crystal glasses, silk tablecloths, Ikebana centerpieces, and the ornate china. All of our guests looking so beautiful and so happy. I could not think of a single moment in which I felt as overwhelmed with joy as when Steve and I performed our first dance with Amelia’s choreography.
As guests joined us on the dance floor, I was startled to see that Mark had not only come to our reception, but was escorting Michelle onto the dance floor. Steve and I stopped dancing and stared at them as they approached.
“At ease, brother dear,” Michelle said to Steve, in what could only be considered a snide tone of voice. “I asked Mark to come. It’s our last hurrah.”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “I agreed to stay on the wagon, in exchange for the free meal.” Then he turned toward Michelle, took her hand led her into an energetic samba. Michelle’s grin as she danced with him was almost a sneer that, for all the world, seemed suitable for a movie villainess.
I whirled around toward Steve. He was gaping at Michelle. We resumed dancing, but as he took me in his arms, he said, “Michelle’s up to something. That was her evil-genius expression, which she’s had ever since I can remember. She’d make that face and put Super Glue on my lip balm, or something of that ilk.”
“Yikes! I’m glad she wasn’t my sister.”
“She kind of is now.”
“Maybe she’s just feeling triumphant for forcing Mark to leave the country.”
“That’s probably it exactly,” he replied. His voice lacked confidence, though.
As the evening progressed, Mark was on his best behavior. He wasn’t drinking, and every time I spotted him, he was by himself or with Michelle, keeping his mouth shut.
Steve and I made a point of visiting all of our guests tables, making sure to chat with each of our guests individually. When we joined Mark and Michelle, Michelle pulled an unwrapped DVD out of her clutch purse. “Mark and I got you a present from Paprika,” she began, “which is already on the gifts table. But Erin, this is my personal gift to you.” She handed it to me. “It’s various family photos and videos throughout the years, dating back to when Stevie was just a newborn.”
“Thank you, Michelle. I’m touched,” I told her honestly. “That was so thoughtful of you to do put this together for me.”
“Oh, it was nothing, really.” She turned toward Mark, who was staring at the disk as if alarmed. “I know this is a surprise, Mark, but I’m certain Erin will be really happy to see its contents. Don’t you think?”
“I’m sure she will,” he said evenly. He seemed to be struggling to keep a lid on his temper. Maybe the disk had embarrassing recordings of him, or it showed her and Drew together. Just then Rhonda and her husband were passing Steve’s and my chairs on the way to the dance floor. Her husband set down his glass of Beaujolais between us. “Forgot I had this in my hand,” he said to me with an affable grin. “Whoever supplied your wine and champagne is my new best friend.”
Rhonda winced at his remark. Determined not to let my spirits sag with thoughts of Aunt Bea’s imprisonment, I simply said, “I’ll tell her you said so.”
As I turned back to speak some parting words to Michelle, that haughty expression of hers was back on her face. I merely thanked her again, then ushered Steve toward some former-client friend
s of ours.
An hour or so after our cake-cutting ceremony, some of our guests were departing. I’d all but dismissed my concerns about Michelle’s haughty expression. I spotted her alone, and took the opportunity to sit down next to her for a reasonably private conversation, hoping she could dispel my fears completely. After a brief exchange of chitchat, I said, “I admire you for making the decision to raise your young children alone.”
She nodded. “Thank you. It’s going to be hard, but I’ve got a supportive family.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Frankly,” she said, after taking a long sip of her wine, “I do feel like the unintended victim in all of this.”
She was slurring her words and her cheeks and nose were a little red. I bit back my urge to ask if she should be drinking while pregnant. “Oh?”
“My future’s so tenuous. I’m going to have to go back to work. Which I always intended to do, but not while I’m pregnant with my second child.”
“Are your finances really that precarious?”
She nodded. “But it’s okay. Aunt Bea said she’d allow me to inherit her business.”
“She did?” I asked, truly surprised.
Michelle chuckled. “Well, not all of them, of course. Minus the drug smuggling. And probably the gold marketeering.”
“Probably?”
“I wish she could be here. Even after knowing what she did. She just wanted to protect me from Mark.”
I studied her features, confused. “By…killing Drew? And Fitz?”
Steve, I realized, was now standing behind me. “How could Aunt Bea’s actions protect you from Mark?” he asked.
“I meant to say Fitz. She knew he was blackmailing me. I told her a week earlier, when we were discussing the invitations.”
“But, that’s not what she told me yesterday. She said she’d found out the day of our wedding shower that Fitz was blackmailing your mom.”
“Bea must have been confused.” She started to set down her wine glass, but jerked her hand and splashed wine on her lap. “Clumsy me. I’ll be right back.”
She rose and headed for the women’s room. Steve took the seat she’d just now vacated. He raked his hand through his hair. “She’s lying, Erin. I can always tell when she’s lying through her teeth.”
“She meant it the first time, when she said that Bea was protecting her from Mark,” I said. “And Bea told me a couple of times that she’d tried, but failed, to frame Mark for the murders. But how would killing Fitz and Drew protect Michelle from her abusive husband?”
“It makes no sense,” Steve agreed.
“If she’s lying about talking to Aunt Bea about Fitz’s blackmail, she could be lying about everything else,” I said. “Mark’s abuse. Her whereabouts during the murders. What she knows about the murders.”
Steve was staring straight ahead. He had spoken so quietly, his voice was a cracked whisper. “My family has bent over backwards to protect one another. All of those false confessions at the rehearsal.”
“That was like the scene from ‘Sparticus.’”
As I heard myself, I felt as if I’d just been sucker punched, and I groaned.
“What is it, darling?”
“Yesterday I asked Bea how she’d gotten the cyanide, and she told me she had nefarious connections. I should have stopped to wonder how Bea could have gotten cyanide that fast. The way Aunt Bea reacted yesterday. She—” The chill up my spine was so intense, I not only got goose bumps, but a case of the shivers. “She told me her only regret was not being able to frame Mark, that she felt bad for Michelle. Bea all but announced that she was also making a false confession, Steve.”
“Are you saying that Bea was trying to protect Michelle from going to jail to pay for her crimes?”
I nodded. “Your mom told me today that she’d been worried sick all this time that Michelle was guilty. And how relieved she was at my solving the case. But, unless she had really good reason to suspect her, shouldn’t she have believed in her own child’s innocence? Meanwhile, Aunt Bea all but fed me clues, incriminating herself. She wanted to go to jail in Michelle’s place.”
“It’s possible they were both wrong about Michelle…my mom and Aunt Bea,” Steve said. “In any case, I’m certain that Michelle knows more than she’s telling anyone.”
“And I’m all but certain that Aunt Bea’s innocent.” I grabbed Steve’s hand with both of mine. “Meanwhile, we’re leaving in the morning for two weeks. I don’t want Aunt Bea to be sitting in jail all that time. Especially not when I played such a big part in putting her there.” I doubted that the police would incarcerate her—an elderly, dying woman—for smuggling cocaine. If she retracted her confession, the trace evidence in her cane would only indicate possession.
“I agree. But we don’t have any actual evidence. All we can do is tell Linda Delgardio and Detective O’Reilly about our concerns over Aunt Bea’s innocence and Michelle’s…complicities.” Steve looked on the verge of tears. “Maybe’s she’s covering for Mark. Maybe she just couldn’t stand the thought of raising her kids with the onus of having a convicted murderer for a dad.”
“So she’s letting Aunt Bea go to jail for a double murder?” I asked, incredulous.
He rose. “We have to give the police a heads up. But this is not going to be on your head this time. I’m going to go get Detective O’Reilly and Linda. I’ll tell them our suspicions. Promise me, Erin…stay with our other guests until I get back. If Michelle tries to talk to you, make an excuse, and join the largest group you can find.”
“I promise. But…shouldn’t I just come with you?”
He shook his head. “I need to be alone when I report this. Again, this one is on me, not you.”
Steve crossed the room in search of Linda and O’Reilly. I watched as his father pointed to the door, and Steve went outside. That exit led to the parking lot, and my first thought was that Linda might have left. Then I spotted her husband’s bald head among a group of guests near the dance floor. Linda was definitely still here and wouldn’t hesitate to call in an on-duty officer if O’Reilly had already left.
A moment later, I saw O’Reilly enter the room, scanning his surroundings and then heading toward Michelle, who had just reentered the room. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Just then, a waiter tapped my shoulder. “One of your bridesmaids asked me to tell you that you are to come to the storage shed for a surprise.”
“The storage shed?” I repeated.
“Yes. She said to tell you it was a surprise for the bride. If you go right out the front door,” he said, pointing, “and you look to the left, you’ll see a dirt path. It leads to a storage shed behind the restaurant. If you hit our auxiliary parking lot, you’ve gone too far.”
“Okay.” I glanced around and saw that Rachel and Rhonda were still on the dance floor with their husbands. “Was it Carly? With Auburn hair?”
“I think so,” he said with a shrug.
“This is very strange, but thanks.” I caught Michelle’s eye as she crossed the room with Detective O’Reilly heading toward the front entrance. She looked scared and shook her head at me. O’Reilly must have told her that Steve and I doubted her innocence.
Eager to talk to Carly, I left the room with a minimum of exchanges with our guests. I felt horrible. I’d just convinced myself that my sister-in-law was a murderer. I’d destroyed the only family I had.
I soon saw the path, which I could tell was wending along a rugged path toward the back of the hotel. The full moon was casting eerie shadows. I watched my footing, thinking that my two-inch heels were not making this pleasant.
I had gone only about twenty or thirty yards when I sensed that someone was waiting up ahead next to the path, the person’s silhouette mostly blocked by the spruce tree between us.
I stopped, my senses on red alert. “Carly?” I asked hesitantly, feeling on edge.
Someone stepped out from behind the tree. It was Mark. “‘Fraid not.” I stared, not wa
nting to believe my eyes. He was holding a gun in his hand, and he aimed the gun at me. “I bribed a waiter to lie to you. I’m afraid I can’t let you watch the DVD that my wife just gave you. I should have known she’d be incapable of keeping her end of our agreement.”
Oh, my God. The two of them had worked together. Probably with the ultimate goal of taking over Aunt Bea’s lucrative business. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The bitch that I’m married to went behind my back and set up surveillance cameras throughout our house. Including our porch. She was trying to trick me into admitting on camera that I’d killed Fitz. She took all her equipment down before the police could find them, right while I stupidly drove Drew to Crestview, in order to make sure he was too far gone to be saved. I… lost my head when her black lover showed up at my house. She got a recording of me giving him a lethal overdose…which she gave to you. I need that DVD, Erin. Where is it?”
“In my purse. Under my chair at the reception hall. I’ll go get it for you.” I whirled around, intending to run and scream for help.
“Stop!” he said.
I heard a metallic click and froze.
“That was me removing the safety from the trigger. Don’t scream, or I’ll shoot you in the back. Then I’ll shoot every person who comes up this path to rescue you.”
I turned around again, my fear morphing into rage. “This is pointless, Mark. Two detectives are talking to your wife, right now. She’ll tell them about the DVD. It’s too late to escape. If you kill me, you’ll be a triple murderer.”
“Right. Which means I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m spending the rest of my life in jail, no matter what. This isn’t how I wanted things to turn out, but Michelle forced my hand. So I’m taking you hostage, and we’re driving to Mexico. As long as you cooperate with me, I’ll let you go at the border.”
He gestured for me to come toward him. “Lead the way, Erin. My car’s parked at the other side of this path. Don’t scream. Don’t try to get away. As you pointed out yourself, I’m a desperate man.”
