Sonny cuffed him, then looked up at me. “Miss Dean?”
“He drugged her. She needs to be checked out.”
Sonny called for an ambulance.
“You okay?”
“I’m good. Can you help me out of these handcuffs?”
“Will that get me off your shit list?”
“It’s a start. I thought you weren’t coming over here to check for evidence. You have your suspect.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe I don’t always do what I’m supposed to either. I know Olivia’s innocent. Proving that’s what matters. You were right.” He unlocked the cuffs. “What happened here?”
I rubbed my wrists and stretched out my arms as I filled him in. “And I think odds are good this is the two a.m. Wednesday visitor Nate ran off—the one with the big knife. Mr. Calhoun seems eager to erase his ties to this place.”
“Your face is red as fire. We can’t have you walking down the aisle with a bruise,” he said. “We need to get you some ice.”
“Did you find anything outside?”
“We’re not finished, but there’s evidence someone’s been over that fence recently. Two different people. But one set of footprints are definitely men’s dress shoes, size eleven. The others are much smaller. Women’s size six.”
Heather. “Thank God.” I explained about her sneaking out leaving over the fence. “But that was Tuesday evening. I watched her do it.”
“We still need more to prove who the men’s prints belong to. I’ve got to try to get a warrant for a comparison.”
“But maybe it’s enough to get Olivia out of jail.”
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
William Calhoun piped up.
“You want Henry Prioleau hopping over a fence Monday night? I can give you that. Saw it myself out the window as I lowered the shades. But I want my name kept out of all of this.”
Sonny looked at him. “Let’s you and me go back to the station and have a talk. Maybe you can convince me why I should believe anything that comes out of your mouth. You’ve just committed your own personal crime wave. Maybe you killed Thurston Middleton. Right now you’re looking like my best suspect.”
“Lawyer,” Calhoun said through bared teeth.
With James Huger’s influence, Charlie Condon’s legal expertise, and by the grace of God, Charleston PD released Olivia at two. I was waiting for her when she came out, bracelets and charms from the Pandora store for my bridesmaids wrapped and in the back of the car. Colleen escorted her to the car, though Olivia couldn’t see her. Olivia climbed into the car. She had a broken look on her face.
“Olivia? Honey are you all right?”
She nodded, looked out the window.
“No one hurt you, did they?”
“No,” she said. “But I saw some things I can’t explain.”
Colleen smirked. She popped out and in to the middle of the backseat.
I said, “I’m sure it was a very traumatic experience. But you’re through it now—out the other side. Your Aunt Dean’s been taken to the hospital.” I explained what had happened. “She’s going to be fine. I just left there. But they want to keep her overnight for observation due to her age. She’ll likely sleep most of the time she’s there.”
“I should’ve made her leave.”
“You tried. We both did. This was not your fault.” She looked at her lap. “Olivia Tess Beauthorpe Pearson,” I said. “Beauthorpe women hold their heads high, no matter what.”
She straightened a bit, looked at me. “Why, you’re absolutely right. We have a wedding rehearsal to get to. What in the devil are we hanging around here for?”
“That’s my girl.” I smiled. “Hey, we have to stop and pick up my dress on the way. Then we have a ferry to catch.”
Colleen whooped as we pulled out of the parking lot.
Twenty-Eight
Nicolette managed the rehearsal like a drill sergeant in Manolo Blahniks. I’m not sure Father Henry Sullivan knew what to make of her. The first time I’d gotten married at St. Francis Episcopal, Mamma and my godmother, Grace Sullivan, had handled everything. This time, Mamma had decided she needed help.
We were all seated in the first few rows of the church receiving our marching orders. Amber, Dana, Heather, and Lori sat in the row behind us. Until I got the all-clear from Colleen, I was keeping them close.
“All right,” said Nicolette. “Places, everyone. We’ll run through it twice.”
Glyn eyed Nicolette like she’d enjoy watching an alligator have her for lunch. But she stood and moved to the back of the church when Zach urged her up.
“Ushers. I need the ushers right here,” said Nicolette from the door to the narthex.
Two of Nate’s friends from Greenville were ushers, along with Sonny and Robert. Nicolette huddled with them for a moment. I heard the words “Bride’s side” come out of her mouth.
I strolled over. “Nicolette, could I have a word?”
She squared her shoulders and followed me a few feet away.
“We’re not segregating sides,” I said. I didn’t want Nate to feel bad because my family was bigger.
“You have made that abundantly clear,” she said. “Would it be all right if I have the ushers seat Nate’s parents on the right and yours on the left?”
“That would be my preference.”
“That’s all I was doing.” She gave me a saccharine smile and returned to the usher huddle.
I rolled my eyes and returned to the bridesmaid huddle.
Merry, of course, was my maid of honor. “I’m so eloping. Someplace far, far away.”
“You say that now.” I eyed Joe, who was in the groomsman huddle along with Blake, two of Nate’s friends from Greenville, and his best friend and best man, Marshall Hughes, who’d come in that morning from Greenville. Marshall was eye-candy—six-three, fit, black hair, and green eyes. Every woman in the room had given him an appreciative look or two.
Merry said, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be sticking to it. But I’m in no hurry.”
“We’ll see, baby sister.” I smiled. She looked at Joe the way I looked at Nate.
My bridesmaids—Calista McQueen, Moon Unit, Olivia, and Sarabeth Simmons, my friend and also my cousin’s widow—smothered giggles.
Calista said, “Is Marshall attached?” Calista was a former client, and a dead ringer for Marilyn Monroe. Everything she said sounded like bedroom talk. If she set her sights on Marshall, he was in serious trouble.
“No,” I said. “I thought you were seeing someone.” I searched her eyes. She and Blake had been dating off and on.
She shrugged. “Some men aren’t ready to commit. I’m tired of sampling appetizers. I’m looking for a main course.” The way she looked at Marshall made me think she’d chosen an entrée. My brother was an idiot.
Nicolette moved from the usher huddle to the groomsman huddle. I took the opportunity to grab a word with Sonny. I took his arm and pulled him away from the crowd.
“Glad to see your face didn’t bruise,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t react the way I should have when you first called me. It’s just—”
“Sonny, it’s good. We’re good. Tell me about Henry Prioleau.”
“Can’t you take tonight off? And tomorrow?”
“Sonny.”
He sighed. “The footprints were a match. We found some threads that match one of his sport coats. He went over that fence. Calhoun told the solicitor he saw him do just that Monday night. William Calhoun’s attorney is working hard to save his life right now. Victoria Baker was identified from her dental records. There’s more evidence, but the net of it is, he killed her and we can prove it.
“I talked to Tyler O’Sullivan, and several other people at the restaurant. That was interesting
. They aren’t being forthcoming to say the least, but Henry is missing, and that speaks volumes.”
“He’s skipped town?”
“It looks that way. We have an APB out. We’ll find him. You need to focus on being a bride.”
Nicolette shouted, “Bride. I need the bride. Places, people. The first time we’ll do this without music.”
The Pirates’ Den served double duty that evening. First, we had a casual Lowcountry Boil for our rehearsal dinner. My bachelorette party would be the second act, while the guys retired to Blake’s houseboat.
John and Alma Glendawn, the owners and also Moon Unit’s parents, had outdone themselves. In addition to the colorful platters of Lowcountry Boil, the long buffet tables with blue and white checkered cloths were piled with side dishes—slaw, fruit salad, fried green tomatoes, hushpuppies, fried okra, black-eyed pea salad—it rivaled one of Mamma’s spreads. John laughed out loud when I asked him if four more guests would be a problem. “Eh law. Lizzie, you know we always fix plenty extra.”
To Mamma’s chagrin, we were at multiple tables. John and Alma couldn’t possibly seat a hundred at one table. No one seemed to mind having Amber, Dana, Heather, and Lori join our group except Glyn, who could barely control her outrage. I’d already parried several barbs about the casual menu compared to what they’d done when Scott and I got married. I ignored her.
Before we started down the buffet line, we all gathered for the toasts around the stage used for bands on typical Friday nights. I had champagne in my glass and planned to drink it all weekend. Nate, his dad, and mine were sipping on their respective favorite brands of bourbon, debating the merits of each. Margaritas flowed. And of course, Glyn had her cosmopolitans.
Mamma kept a close eye on Glyn.
Zach, determined to play his role, even though he and Glyn weren’t technically hosting the event, stepped to the microphone and offered the first toast. “To Nate and Liz, may they always be as happy as they are today.”
Next up was Marshall, who seemed to enjoy the catcalls when he stepped onto the stage. He offered a few jokes at Nate’s expense, then said, “To Liz, the woman who makes my best friend happier than I’ve ever seen him. Buddy, I don’t know what took you so long. And to Nate. Liz, you’ll never find a man who loves you more.”
That brought tears to my eyes. I knew the truth of it.
There were more toasts, more laughing, and we all descended on the buffet like a swarm of locusts. Everyone was having a good time. John and Alma had Jimmy Buffett and Kenny Chesney playing in the background. I was talking with Calista, and Nate came up from behind and put his arms around me. “Want to step out onto the deck? I could use some fresh air.”
“Sure.” I smiled up at him.
He took my hand and we made our way through the crowd and out the french doors onto the deck overlooking the Atlantic. It was a lovely night. Chilly, but a million stars dotted the night sky.
Nate said, “I just wanted a few moments alone with you before I have to leave you with that wild bunch of women. I understand custom dictates I won’t see you again until I meet you at the altar tomorrow evening.”
“That would be correct. I’m an old-fashioned girl.”
“In some respects,” he said.
We held each other close for a few minutes.
Movement in my left peripheral vison caused me to turn. A woman walked serpentine from ground level towards the top of the sand dunes. The deck was elevated, so we were looking down at her as she climbed the dune.
“Nate,” I said. “Is that…” No, it couldn’t be.
“Oh my God,” said Nate. “Mother.”
“What on earth is she doing?”
“I’d say she wanted fresh air and went out the wrong way. I should go check on her.”
A man appeared behind her, walking in a straight line towards her. Daddy. “It looks like Daddy has it.”
“Still.” Nate pulled away a bit.
I pulled him back. “Daddy can be remarkably sensitive. It will be fine. If you go down there, she’ll just say something to hurt you.”
“Glyn?” Over the breeze and the surf, we heard Daddy call to her.
She climbed to the top of the dune, and was roughly level to us. She stood there for a moment, seemed to get her balance. No one was supposed to be on the dunes, but I wasn’t going to give her a lecture on beach erosion just then.
Daddy stopped, seemed undecided if he should follow her further or not.
Glyn lifted the skirt of her cocktail dress.
“What is she—” Nate’s face went white.
She lowered her underpants.
“Is she mooning us?” I asked.
“She can’t see us. I need to find Dad.”
Glyn squatted.
“She’s…powdering her nose,” I said.
“God in heaven, how much has she had to drink?” Nate stood there, stupefied.
Daddy turned the other way, but didn’t retreat.
Then Glyn lost her balance. She cried out as she tipped forward and went ass over teakettle, rolling down the front of the sand dune, which was covered in sea grass, sea grapes, several members of the cactus family, and other erosion resistant plants.
“Oh my God,” Nate said. He took a step towards the walkway to the beach.
But Daddy was closer. He’d turned around when she hollered and he was already on top of the sand dune.
“Nate, it will just embarrass her more if she knows you saw that.”
Daddy walked sideways down the other side of the dune. “Hold on, Glyn. I’m coming.”
After a minute, we heard him say, “Here, take my hand. Let’s get you up.” We couldn’t see either of them, but the breeze carried their voices in our direction.
Daddy said. “It’ll be easier if we walk down the beach a ways and go over the walkway back inside.”
“No, no,” said Glyn. “I prefer to go back indoors the way I came. I need to go to the ladies room.”
“We shoulda done that before we came out here, shouldn’t we?” asked Daddy.
“If you could just help me back up that hill, I’d be in your debt.”
They argued for a few minutes.
“All those plants will just scratch you again. You’re already scraped up pretty bad,” Daddy said.
“Very well,” said Glyn, her words slurring. “I can climb this hill the same way I came down it. By myself.”
“Here, here. Let me help you, then.”
“I don’t freakin’ believe this,” Nate said.
There was relative silence for a few minutes. Then Daddy said, “We’re never going to get up to the top of this sand dune like this. We’ve got to get your britches up.”
Nate sat in a deck chair and dropped his head into his hands.
Glyn said, “I’ll lose my balance again if I bend over.”
Daddy said, “Here. Put your hands on my shoulders.”
A few minutes later he said, “There, that’s got it.”
Presently, the tops of their heads came into view.
“They’re up. She’s fine,” I said.
“Does she have all of her clothes on?” Nate asked.
“Well, I don’t know what happened to her shoes. Let’s go find your dad and let him know he may need to get her back to the hotel.”
“I…” Nate was speechless.
“Sweetheart, it’s going to be fine,” I said. “No one but us saw that. She’ll have a few scratches, but she’s okay.”
“I don’t think I can ever look her in the eye again.”
“Yes, you will. Family is family.”
“Well, if you didn’t know before what you were getting into, you sure as hell know now.”
“Oh, I had a pretty g
ood idea.”
“I hope Blake has a lot of bourbon on that houseboat.”
“I’m sure he does.” I gentled him back into the restaurant.
Twenty-Nine
Saturday dawned sunny and mild. I’d stayed in my room at my parents’ house after the bachelorette party. Mamma, Merry, and I met Olivia, Moon Unit, Calista, and Sarabeth at Dori’s Day Spa for all day pre-wedding primping. Brunch, complete with mimosas, was catered in. We had the run of the place. At Mamma’s insistence, the photographer started at nine that morning and tailed us all day.
I slipped into the ladies room to check in with Sonny only once, in the early afternoon. Still no sign of Henry Prioleau, but they’d found a large knife with a leg sheath, some dark athletic clothes, and a ski mask when they searched William Calhoun’s house.
We all dressed at St. Francis Episcopal, ladies in the bride’s room. Mamma adjusted the brooch in my hair and stepped back. In the background, we could hear the string quartet playing “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.”
Mamma had tears in her eyes. “It’s almost time. I never told you this. Maybe I should’ve. I knew Scott was a mistake from the first moment you brought him home. It tore me up inside to see you marry him. But you had your heart set.”
“Mamma—”
“Hush now,” she said. “Just as I knew he was wrong, I know Nate is the right one. You could’ve looked the world over and not found a better man.”
I teared up. “I know.”
“Here now, don’t be messing up your makeup. And don’t forget to touch up your lipstick after the ceremony. Your wedding photos are forever. You don’t want to look pale in them.” We’d decided on candid shots before the wedding, non-flash photos from the choir loft during, and posed group photos afterwards.
I laughed. “I will, Mamma.”
Nicolette opened the door. “Grandmothers. I need grandmothers.”
Grandmamma Moore, Mamma’s mother, gave me a hug. “You look so pretty,” she said. She and Nate’s grandmothers followed Nicolette out the door.
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