Wolfe, She Cried

by Addison, Bliss

  “I don’t believe I was.”

  “Maybe she came in for treatment the next day or later?” He pulled the composite from his inside breast pocket and unfolded it in front of her. “Does she look familiar to you?”

  She studied the woman in the sketch and shook her head.

  “I’m sure you see many different faces in your line of work and where this happened so long ago,” he spread his palms outward, “memories tend to get fuzzy. Take a moment, then look at the picture again.”

  She did.

  He recognized the glimmer of recognition the instant she saw the resemblance to herself.

  “She looks like me, in a trashy sort of way.” She picked up the sheet by the corners as though touching it would contaminate her.

  He leaned back and looked at Evie.

  Felicia frowned. “I don’t recognize her. Do you know her name?” She knocked her head. “Stupid question. If you knew her name, you’d be able to check hospital records. If she was treated at the hospital or any hospital for that matter, she would have had to present her insurance card to reception, that is, if she didn’t want to get billed for the treatment.”

  He hoped it wouldn’t occur to her he would have checked with the hospital for any cases of a knife injury for the night in question. “We think she used an alias. Staci Gardner.” Just as he had read in her face when she recognized the resemblance of the woman in the sketch to herself, he saw the moment she realized the connection to her name and deduced the true purpose of their visit.

  She threw the sheet on the table. “How dare you!”

  He felt the chill of her wrath. “Felicia—”

  She turned to Evie. “And you, Eve. How could you?”

  He leaned forward, putting his body as barrier between the two women. “Evie had nothing to do with this.”

  “Mom,” Evie said, her voice filled with calm. “Simon is just doing his job. You saw the resemblance yourself. What do you expect him to think?”

  “I suppose next you’re going to ask me where I was on the night of Miller’s murder.”

  For starters. “Yes, ma’am.”

  With a huff and a remark about setting the chief of police straight, she strode to the Louis XV style Kingwood, rosewood and mahogany, bronze-mounted slant front secretary desk and took her day planner in her hand. “What was the date?” She glared at him, a look meant to intimidate. He wasn’t.

  He gave her the date and watched her flip the pages over with angry strokes. “Harrison and I had dinner with the Mayor,” she looked at him over the rim of her reading glasses, “— and you can rest assured, Simon, she will be hearing about this—and her husband at The Pier. We had dinner reservations for seven.”

  “What time did you return home?”

  “I don’t remember exactly. Had I known I would be considered a murder suspect and would need an alibi I would have recorded the time of every occurrence that night.”

  “An approximate time.”

  She shrugged. “Probably nine or so.”

  Miller was killed between eight and eight-thirty. “Did you leave the restaurant at any time during dinner?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Honestly, Simon.”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  “No!” She took a huge breath, and let it out in a rush. “No, I did not.”

  “Where were you on the nights of November 16th and December 15th?”

  She gave him a look that assured him this would never be forgotten or forgiven and flipped the pages forward in her day planner. “I don’t have anything marked for November 16th.” She turned over the page. “I was in Concord the next day. Shopping, I think.”

  “Did you leave the day before?” He knew she had.

  She squinted and looked off to a corner. “I may have. I don’t recall, though.”

  “And December 15th?”

  Reading from her notations, she said, “I was in Snyder Mountain giving a speech to the graduating class of nurses at the university.”

  “Make any stops along the way?”

  “Not that I remember.” She placed her finger against her lip as though something occurred to her. “That was the day of the big snow storm?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I remember now. It started to snow just as I arrived at the turn-off for Snyder Mountain. I forgot to fill up before I left the island so I detoured to find a service station.”

  “Do you remember where you filled up?”

  She shrugged. “Some little hick place. River something.” She thought a moment. Riverside. Yes, that was it.”

  “Where did you go from there?”

  “Where do you think I went? To Snyder Mountain, of course. That’s where I was headed.”

  “Would you agree to a DNA test?”

  She slammed her day planner on the desk and reached for the phone. “I’m calling my lawyer. You’re not getting away with this, Simon.”

  Evie stood. “Mom, please. The DNA test is to clear you. Why don’t you give a sample, and we’ll be on our way?”

  Felicia thought about it a moment, her fingernail tapping the hard cover of her appointment book rang like the tat-tat-tat of machine gun fire. “Okay. Where’s the swab?”

  Evie took a plastic tube from her purse.

  Felicia extended her hand.

  “I have to do it, Mom.”

  Felicia rolled her eyes.

  “Open up.”

  “That went well.” Evie bounded down the walkway.

  The sarcasm in her voice didn’t escape Simon. He caught up to her, put a hand on her elbow and ushered her over the hard-packed snow.

  From the passenger side of her Explorer, she looked at him over the roof. “I’m not happy about what we did in there.”

  “If it’s any consolation, neither am I.”

  “The DNA test will prove my mom’s innocence, then we can put this behind us. Don’t think she’ll forget about it. Ever.” She yanked open the car door and hoisted herself on the seat.

  He got in behind the wheel. “I know.”

  “When will we get the results?” She handed him the tube containing her mother’s DNA.

  “You hang onto it until we get to the station.” He brushed her hand aside. “I’ll put a rush on it. Four weeks, maybe sooner. Think she’s coming to our wedding?”

  Evie harrumphed. “She was iffy before. Now, I’d say she’s a definite no-show.”

  The sadness in her voice stabbed his heart. She wanted so much for Felicia to share in her joy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He smoothed a strand of hair off her forehead.

  She turned her tear-filled eyes on him. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

  “You tried your whole life to make your mother love you the way you needed to be loved. You styled yourself into something you thought she would approve of.”

  “A lot of good it did.”

  “I think all of us have an inherent want to be liked.”

  “A child shouldn’t have to fight for that from a parent.”

  Words failed him. He reached across the counsel and squeezed her hand.

  “I wish I had some things to do over.”

  “What would you do differently?”

  She laughed. “What wouldn’t I?”

  “Would you still tell me your mother’s maiden name was Gardner and not O’Malley and Anastasia not Felicia as I thought?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said without hesitation. “I’m a cop. I took an oath.”

  “You were her daughter first.”

  She turned to him. “If it were your mother, would you have held that fact from me?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  He wanted to take Evie’s mind off the pleasantness she just suffered through. After a moment of thought, he found the way. “How would you feel about me getting a haircut?” He fingered the shaved spot on the back of his head.

  She jerked toward him and searched his face. When he didn’t smile, she asked, “You’re se
rious?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How short?”

  “Short.”

  She crossed her legs. “When did this come about?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile now. Since Kira Miller’s visit to my office, actually.”

  “Doug’s little girl?”

  “She wears her hair in braids, too, only she calls them pigtails.”

  She laughed into her hand. “Because of that you want to cut your hair?”

  “I’m going to be a married man soon.”

  “And you want to look… what, mature?”

  “It’s time, don’t you think?”

  “That you look mature or time to cut off the hair?”

  When he opened his mouth to answer, she grinned. “I know what you meant.” She fingered his braids. “I can’t imagine you without them.”

  “But you’re not adverse to it?”

  “If it’s what you want, I say go for it.”

  “Great.” He started the Explorer and shifted into reverse. “Now, let’s go have us some fun with my snitch.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Evie looked at the clock on her kitchen wall and turned to Keertana, Shelley and Bethany sitting at the table around her. “It’s time to get dressed! I don’t want to be late for my own wedding.”

  “Piloqutinnguaq, is it not a little early?” Keertana asked. “We still have one hour and fifteen minutes, and that is all we have to do.”

  For once, Evie damned her great organizational skills. How would she pass the time? She looked at herself in the hand-held mirror. “I’m wearing too much blush.” No one said anything. They had been over this before. “If we wait any longer, I’ll have to reapply my lipstick.” Shelley worked furiously at a crossword puzzle. Keertana filed her nails. Bethany, reading the comics in the newspaper, heard nothing.

  Evie was not deterred. “We should make allowances for traffic. It may be heavy. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all.”

  Keertana patted her hand. “You will not be late, dear.”

  “When did you say Dan will be here?”

  “Three thirty.”

  “Is that enough time to get me to the church for four?”

  Keertana smiled at Shelley who had raised her eyebrows and chuckled at Evie’s anxiousness. “More than enough time.”

  “What if he busts a wheel or something? Shouldn’t we have allowed for the possibility?”

  It continued, the volley of questions of an anxious bride and the reassuring responses of her wedding party.

  Fifteen minutes later, Evie, followed by her maid-of-honor, Shelley and her partner, Bethany, and her future mother-in-law, Keertana, rushed into her bedroom where she took her dress from the garment bag and draped it across the bed. She unbelted her chenille robe and let it fall to the floor.

  Shelley helped her into the dress and did the pearl buttons down the back. When she came to the two last buttons, she fought to bring the two pieces of material together, but couldn’t.

  Evie noticed. “What’s the matter? I knew there would be something. I knew I should have gotten dressed earlier.”

  “It’s nothing, Evie. Haul in your tummy a little, and I’ll be able ….” She halted abruptly and walked around to face her.

  Keertana placed her fingers against her lips. “Oh, my.”

  “Oh my, what?” Evie looked at Shelley and Keertana who beamed. Bethany simply shrugged.

  “Have you been feeling tired lately?” Shelley asked. “Nauseous? Heachachy?”

  “Of course not.” She wasn’t depressed. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she experienced those sensations.

  Shelley smiled. “Have you been eating more lately?”

  Evie nodded. Her appetite had increased.

  “It could account for the weight gain,” Shelley said.

  “It could,” Keertana said, looking Evie over. “But it seems it is only your waist that has been affected.” She raised her brows.

  It finally dawned on Evie. “I’m pregnant.” She clasped Keertana’s hands and danced on the spot. “I’m pregnant! Simon will be thrilled.”

  “Yes, Piloqutinnguaq, I feel it is so.”

  They hugged and kissed and cried happy tears.

  Several extremely happy minutes later Keertana brought them back from the clouds. “We must hurry. Dan will be here very soon.”

  The day was perfect. Evie’s life was perfect. Well, almost perfect. If only her parents would accept Simon as her husband and attend the wedding.

  She rode in a white, horse-drawn carriage driven by Dan in his top hat, black tuxedo and top coat, a hot pack beneath her bottom and a wool blanket covering her legs. She looked to the west where the setting sun slowly sank into the horizon, then behind her where Jeff Barrows, Simon’s best man, chauffeured Keertana, Shelley and Bethany in his almond-colored Cadillac.

  They traveled along the streets of downtown Honeydale, causing quite a stir. She wondered if this were the first time since the invention of the automobile that a bride was driven to the church by horse and carriage. Motorists waved and tooted horns. She acknowledged them with a smile and a nod. Snowdancer, on the other hand, whinnied and snorted, his frosty breath carrying backward over his breadth by a light wind, then continued on with a certain prance to his surefooted step.

  In a matter of minutes, she would be Mrs. Simon Wolfe. Evie Wolfe, soon-to-be mother.

  Dan looked over his shoulder at her. “Everything okay back there?”

  “Fine.” She’d like to tell him to have Snowdancer pick up the pace, so anxious was she to get to the church, but didn’t. They were early as it was.

  His cell phone rang.

  Evie held her breath. No, dear God. Surely, nothing happened to Simon again. She should have handcuffed him to her wrist.

  “Whoa, boy.” Dan reined in Snowdancer, brought the carriage to a stop and turned. “There’s been a small hitch in our giddy-up.”

  She released her breath. “Oh?”

  “It seems there was a misprint in the church bulletin, and instead of it reading wedding mass it read New Year’s Eve mass and half the town has turned out. I know you and Simon want a small, intimate ceremony, so shall I tell Father McDougall to turn away the parishioners?”

  Turn away children of God from His house? She didn’t think so. “God, no.” She smiled. “If it’s all right with Simon, it’s fine by me.” If this were the worst to happen today, she’d gladly embrace it.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at Stella Maris church.

  Evie stood, adjusted the white fur-trimmed hood covering her head and smoothed the wrinkles from her white floor-length cape.

  Dan jumped from the carriage and helped her onto the sidewalk. “Any second thoughts?”

  “Definitely not. Today, Simon and I will pledge our love before God, before our family and friends, and as it turns out, the town,” she smiled, “and we will officially become husband and wife. Do you know whether my parents are here?”

  He shook his head.

  When she spoke to Harrison this morning, he doubted they would attend. Felicia had one of her migraines. Evie said she understood, but she didn’t, not really. She placed a hand on her tummy. Little one, I will always stand by you.

  “I think someone needs a hug.” Dan opened his arms wide.

  She fell against him.

  “I’m honored you asked me to stand in for your father and walk you down the aisle. You won my heart from the moment you knocked on our screen door when you were four years old with your blond hair in pigtails, tied with little red bows and asked to play with the horseys. Daughter.” He smiled and kissed her cheek.

  Tears filled her eyes. She blinked and forced them back. “I love you, too, Dad. Shall we go in and get this ball rolling?”

  In the bridal room of the church, the women fussed over Evie, making last minute repairs to her make-up. She looked at herself in the cheval mirror and admired the Renaissance chiffon gown with off shoulder
poufs, long sweep chiffon sleeves and shirred waist. Keertana adjusted the sheath over the chiffon train while Shelley touched up her hair. Minutes later, Evie fingered the medal at her neck, her only jewelry, and waited impatiently for Shelley to reach the altar and for the organist to play the Bridal Chorus.

  When the moment finally arrived, Dan extended his crooked arm toward her. “They’re playing your song.” He ushered her toward the entrance inside the church, stopping in the breadth of the doorway.

  Harrison stepped from the shadows to her left and extended his arm.

  “Daddy?”

  “If it’s not too late, I’d like the privilege of escorting my beautiful daughter down the aisle.”

  Dan unhooked his arm from hers and kissed her cheek.

  She grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t go.” She tucked the single white rose she carried over her ear and held out both her arms. “Shall we set a precedent, gentlemen?”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Simon stood off to one corner of the parish hall beside Jeff. He raised a finger to his lips and kissed his wedding band. Forever together. He caught sight of Evie and his heartbeat accelerated as it always did when he looked at her. He watched her talking to a group of women gathered around her. His gaze fell on her chest where her wedding dress clung tightly to her breasts.

  Jeff took a sip of wine. “I like the new do by the way.”

  “Huh?”

  “The haircut.”

  “I decided to get in touch with my Irish side.” Simon smoothed back a lock of hair off his forehead. “It takes some getting used to.”

  Jeff pointed his wine glass toward Evie. “When you said she was beautiful, I had no idea how beautiful.”

  He saw the look of lust in Jeff’s eyes. He didn’t like it one bit. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s taken.”

  Jeff smiled and jerked his head toward Bethany. “She’s hot. I may ask her out.”

  He frowned. “You know she’s a lesbian, right?”

  “So was Anne Heche, but she married and now has a child with her husband.”

  “She was also abducted by aliens.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read in the tabloids.” Jeff slapped Simon’s shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find out just how into women she is.”