Weddings Can Be Murder

by Christie Craig

  “You can make airplanes after dinner,” Tami said. “Go.”

  Benny whimpered but obeyed. As Katie followed Tami into the kitchen, she felt obliged to say, “I’ll do anything you ask, but I have to warn you, I seriously suck at cooking.”

  “Not at my type of cooking you won’t,” Tami said.

  “Please! I’ve heard nothing but praise about your cooking since I’ve been staying at your father-in-law’s place. Your pies, your homemade breads, your homemade pasta sauces.”

  Tami grinned. “Which is why I must have you swear on…on a stack of cookbooks that what happens in my kitchen, stays in my kitchen.” She pulled out a cookbook from one of the shelves and slammed it on the kitchen table. “Come on.”

  Smirking, Katie put her hand down on the book. “I solemnly swear on a stack of cookbooks.”

  “Good. Now that we got that covered, look in the pantry, way back in the back, and pull out the bottled spaghetti sauce.”

  Katie laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I kid you not, girlfriend! You see, when I was dating Ben, they had been eating their dad’s cooking, which was so bad that they thought the canned beanie weenies I served were gourmet.” Tami pulled out a pot from under the cabinet. “Anyway, the praise felt so good I actually took cooking lessons.”

  “Ahh, so you can cook?” Katie found the sauce that really was hidden way in the back of the cupboard.

  “Well, let’s say I managed to put together a few meals. You’d have thought those Hades men died and went to heaven.” She filled the pot with water. “But as much as I loved all their praise, I learned some truth about myself. I hate cooking.” Laughing, Tami put the water on to boil. “So, I started experimenting with what you might call quick-fix meals. And frankly, dear, I found Ragu can make as good a sauce as I can. And the day I found out that Mr. Dough Boy made a pie crust better than mine, I practically”—she lowered her voice—“offered him a blow job.” She grinned. “Grab me the cherry pie filling from the bottom shelf.”

  “You are such a phony,” Katie teased.

  “Remember, you’ve sworn on a stack of cookbooks.”

  A few minutes later, as Katie made the salad, Tami shot her an unsure glance. “You know Benny was right, don’t you?”

  Katie looked up. “Right about what?” Her gaze caught on the family photo hanging over the phone. The image of the three of them, Ben, Tami, and Benny, sitting on a blanket at some park, drew Katie’s eye. She wanted that. Family.

  “You’re much better than Amy.”

  Katie and Tami hadn’t spoken about Carl or the problematic relationship, and Katie had decided that it was best. She didn’t want to pull his family into their issues.

  “So, Ragu is as good as homemade, huh?” Katie focused on the tomato sauce and not on the unanswered remark hanging heavy in the air.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Tami said.

  “Looks can be deceiving.” Jumping subjects again, she asked, “So, Ben really doesn’t know you use canned sauce?”

  Tami didn’t go for the ploy. “He’s not a bad guy, Katie. He was hurt. First by his mom and then by Amy.”

  “His mom?” Okay, now it was Katie plowing right into a subject. “I thought…he seemed to love her a lot.”

  “He did. She had cancer. The treatments worked in the beginning, but it came back, twice. The last time it was really bad. My father-in-law, he…he’s stubborn, really stubborn, and he just wouldn’t accept that it couldn’t be fixed. He signed her up for all these last-ditch efforts. And she was tired.”

  Katie’s heart ached for Carl and all the Hades men. “Damn!”

  Tami continued. “Carl found out that his mother had stopped her treatments. She was seeing some holistic doctor instead. And she made Carl promise not to tell his dad and brother.” Tami stirred the pasta. “She died about a month later. Ben said that Carl broke down at the funeral. He told his dad that it was his fault because he’d known she’d stopped the treatments.” Tami sighed. “He was fifteen. I think he really believed he’d killed her.”

  Emotion tightened Katie’s chest. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “I know. I guess that’s why I have a soft spot for Carl. It’s as if he’s a wounded animal or something.” Tami frowned. “Ben said that after his mom died, Carl changed.”

  “How do you mean?” Katie asked, but she knew all about the changes one goes through when someone you love dies.

  “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a womanizer. Or he was until Amy. There hasn’t been anyone since her. But before…Ever heard that country-western song, “I Like My Women on the Trashy Side?” I swear it was written for Carl. Ben claimed Carl went after the loose women because he thought he wouldn’t fall in love.”

  “Well, that makes me feel real good,” Katie said.

  Grinning, Tami added, “Not you. Ben jokes that the only reason you caught his eye was because you two were locked in a room together and he couldn’t run when the lights came on and he saw you weren’t a tramp.”

  “Thanks,” Katie said. “I think.”

  From the other room, Katie heard Benny squeal. Tami looked at the door and guilt lit her face. “Don’t thank me yet. I…I should warn you. Carl’s coming for dinner. I’m pretty certain that’s him now.”

  Katie glanced at the back door.

  “Don’t do it,” Tami said. “I’ll trip you if you try!”

  Chapter Thirty

  Katie watched Tami grab the sauce jar and push it down in the trash. “Please don’t be mad. And remember, you swore on cookbooks not to tell my secrets.”

  Katie closed her eyes, then heard the happy voices.

  “To the death!” Benny squealed.

  “Prepare to meet your maker,” a familiar voice said. Katie’s heart clutched at Carl’s husky, playful tone. “And the winner gets to eat all the worms.”

  “No horse playing in my house,” Tami yelled from the door. “And no worms before dinner.”

  Katie leaned into the counter, feeling wave upon wave of emotion. “Does he know I’m here?” she asked in a hushed tone.

  Tami grimaced. “I…may have forgotten to mention it.”

  Footsteps drew near. Katie prepared herself to see him.

  “Something smells good.” Carl stepped inside the kitchen and hugged Tami. He was mid-hug when Katie caught his eye. One look at his unhappy expression and her stomach lurched. It took everything she had to keep from running to the bathroom and throwing up.

  Ben arrived home shortly thereafter. Dinner went off without a hitch…except the one in Katie’s throat the whole time that kept her from eating. Carl hardly looked at her. God knew, he hadn’t said three words. Even Benny noticed.

  “Are you mad at Katie?” Benny asked, and twirled his pasta around his fork.

  “No.” Carl flinched, though.

  “Then how come you and Amy used to kiss and stuff? And you haven’t kissed Katie. And you keep looking at her…all sad and all.”

  Carl’s gaze shot to her; then he looked at Tami as if begging for assistance.

  Tami complied. “Benny, I think you’re done with dinner.”

  “Dinner was great,” Katie said, hoping to cut the tension.

  “It always is when Tami cooks.” Ben dropped his fork.

  “It was good,” Carl added, and sipped his tea.

  “I’m glad you liked it so much.” Tami smiled. “I hope you won’t mind helping Katie wash the dishes.”

  Carl choked on his drink. “Dishes?”

  Katie would have smiled if her heart weren’t busy breaking.

  Five minutes later, they were alone in the kitchen. Carl moved in beside her. “Does Tami know about your dish game?”

  “God, no!” Katie squirted soap into the water and kept her gaze on the bubbles, and not on his wide shoulders encased in a blue shirt, or at the shadow of hurt in his eyes.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said.

  She sensed him studying her and fought
the urge to reach over and touch him.

  “You didn’t know I’d be here either, did you?” Annoyance hung in his tone.

  “No.” Katie watched the foamy suds growing.

  “They don’t have a damn right to get in the middle of this.”

  Katie looked up. “They love you.” His brown eyes met hers and held. Looking at him hurt, but her heart invited a little more pain to come inside. “Right or wrong, they’re trying to help. That’s what family does.”

  He reached back and rubbed his shoulder. “But—”

  “No buts, Carl. They love you.” She watched his fingers massage the muscle. She ached to do it for him. To soothe him. “Does it hurt because you were shot?”

  “I’m okay.” He pulled his hand away.

  She picked up a plate and started washing.

  His gaze whispered over her, and she tried not to do anything that could be considered seductive or teasing, but every move her hand made felt sexual, and she remembered it all: doing the dishes with him. Okay, she really needed a new topic.

  “How did you get shot?” When he didn’t answer, she glanced over to see him frown. “Forget I asked.”

  He let out a deep breath. “I thought they would have already told you all my dirty secrets.”

  Shaking her head, she swallowed the emotion. “They haven’t told me about that.”

  He hesitated. “There was a drug dealer who made it a habit of going after ex-users who were trying to go clean. He got someone I cared about using again. So I went after him.”

  She rinsed a plate and put it into the drain. “Amy?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You say that like it was a bad thing.”

  Another pause hung. “I talked my partner into going with me. We walked in on a drug deal. It got ugly. My partner got hit in the leg. I took one in the shoulder.” He picked up the plate and dried it. “I fired back. Turned out the shooter was only seventeen and a judge’s nephew.”

  She squeezed the dishcloth. “Did he—”

  “Die? No. But he’s got a pretty bad limp and will remember me the rest of his life.” Carl blinked. “I shouldn’t have been there. I nearly got my partner killed.”

  Emotion filled Carl’s eyes, and she wanted to help, to touch him. To hold him. She couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe you shouldn’t have gone, but I understand. You went because you cared about someone.”

  He stared at her and then found a towel and dried the plate. “We didn’t have a search warrant. They threw the book at me and my partner. Neither of us were let go, but they made it difficult to stay.”

  “Is that when you went to work for yourself?”

  “Yeah.” He searched in the cabinets until he found where the plate went. When he turned around, he smiled. “Don’t suppose I’ll get a piece of clothing for that dish, huh?”

  Even as much as she hurt, she grinned. “Probably not.”

  He stepped closer and touched her cheek. “You have no idea how much I wish…” His words faded.

  “Wish what?” She fought the desire to lean into him, to be the one to grant him any wish his heart desired.

  He sighed. “Oh, Red, I don’t watch The Brady Bunch. I’m not the type who makes promises.” He leaned in and pressed his chin to her temple. “And you’re the kind of girl who needs them, aren’t you?”

  Katie’s gaze caught on the photo of Ben, Tami, and little Benny. A fun day at the park with the family, such a simple thing, but something she wanted. Like Easters with her family.

  “Yes,” she said, and pulled away. “I need promises.”

  Les came bouncing into Mr. Hades’ apartment two days later as Katie packed her things. “I heard they arrested him.”

  “We’re waiting to hear that he’s being held, and if so…I’m free to leave.” Katie faked a smile. Losing the Hades family wouldn’t be easy.

  “I’ll bet you are so relieved,” Les said.

  “It will be nice to get back to my life,” she lied. Truth? Her life sucked. Alone sucked. Alone hurt. And she didn’t even have Joe anymore. “I talked to Lola today and she’s really happy I’m coming back.”

  “It’s good to be needed.” Still smiling, Les dropped down on the sofa and Katie noticed a particular gleam.

  “What’s up, Miss Cheery?” Katie asked.

  “I’ve got some news.” Les rubbed her hands together.

  “You and Joe?” Katie’s hope soared even though she’d spoken to Joe last night and he hadn’t mentioned Les.

  “No,” Les said.

  “Why not?” Katie asked.

  Les did her eye roll. “Hey, I’m taking baby steps here. Can’t you at least be happy with what I did do?”

  “What did you do?” Hoping, Katie’s gaze went to the tan turtleneck Les wore. But Katie could see the shape of the ring behind the shirt.

  “I just got my old job back at the paper.”

  Katie squealed and hugged her. “You’re moving back? Yes! Do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

  Les grinned. “Me, too. But I’ve agreed to give a four-week notice at the Boston Globe. Help them train someone. I already booked my flight for next Monday.”

  “A whole month?” Katie whimpered.

  “Yeah,” Les said. “But it’ll be good. I need the time to get my head on straight.”

  “You mean about Joe?” Katie asked.

  “Joe and other things.” Les sat up and stared at the painting Katie had set on the coffee table. “Did you do this?”

  Katie laughed. “No, an elephant did it.”

  Les’s eyes widened. “This is the famous elephant painting?”

  “Yeah. It’s actually not that bad.” Katie looked away from the piece of art. “Are you going to at least go say ’bye to Joe?”

  “I went by last night, but he wasn’t there. I was going to call him, but I hate saying good-bye over a phone.”

  “He keeps a key under the planter beside the door,” Katie offered. “If he’s not home, just go in and wait.”

  Les nodded, then looked back at the painting. “You should start painting again.”

  It was Katie’s time to share her own good news. “I am. I made that promise to myself. I’m going to do it and I don’t care if I suck at it.”

  Katie and Mr. Hades were watching Oprah that afternoon when the phone rang.

  “Hello,” he answered. “Good!” He looked at Katie, then lowered his voice. “You’re not going to come by?” He frowned. “Fine. I’ll tell her.”

  Getting the gist of the conversation, Katie felt a knot rise in her throat. It was over. She could leave. And Carl wasn’t going to say good-bye.

  Mr. Hades hung up. “It was the same gun. Edwards is being held without bail.”

  Katie stood up, not wanting it to be a long good-bye. “Looks as if you’re finally going to get me out of your hair.” She tried real hard not to let the sting in her throat sound in her voice, or to let it climb up her sinuses and make her cry. But of course she failed.

  “Oh, girly, don’t you tear up on me!” He pulled her against him. “I’m not sure if you want to hear this or not, but I personally think my son is the biggest fool known to mankind.”

  Katie pulled back before her mascara smeared on his shirt. “I left the check on the table,” she said.

  “No!” Mr. Hades bellowed. “I mean it now. You aren’t paying me one dime.”

  Katie patted his arm. “Yes, I am. And if you don’t like to think of it as payment, then think of it as a wedding gift. Take Jessie somewhere really nice on her honeymoon.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You’ll be at the wedding, right?”

  “We’ll see,” Katie said, unwilling to lie. But the truth was, the sooner she let go of this family, the better-off everyone would be.

  Katie went to get her bag, then kissed Mr. Hades’ cheek. “Jessie is one lucky woman.”

  Carl stood in the back of the courtroom and watched them lead a very upse
t Jack Edwards away. But Carl wasn’t happy. He had wanted to hear the man say he’d done it. He wanted the niggling doubt in his gut to fade. Reaching back to rub his shoulder, he told himself this feeling was about losing Red and not because he believed Edwards was innocent.

  Ben walked over. “Did you call her yet?”

  “I told Dad to tell her.”

  Ben frowned. “And you’re not going to go see her?”

  “A clean break is best,” he said, but the words cut deep.

  Ben shook his head. “You are the biggest damn fool I’ve ever known.” He walked away.

  Carl left the courthouse and got in his car. He didn’t start it, though. He sat there and thought about losing Katie forever. “Shit. Fuck!”

  And yes, Red, this is f-word worthy. He grabbed his phone and hit redial. “Don’t let her go yet. I’m coming over.”

  “Well, you’re just about ten fucking minutes too late! But you know where she lives, right?”

  Carl snapped his phone shut. He knew where she lived, but what the hell was he going to say when he got there? He needed that answer before he could go to her. Leaning his head back, he fought the ache that threatened to consume him and tried to find the answer.

  “You’ll make a beautiful bride.” Tabitha’s killer sat down at his desk and looked at the brunette sitting across from him. She looked around his office.

  “It looks as if you photograph other things besides weddings.”

  Her eyes were brown, like Maria’s. His heart thumped against his breastbone, and he tried to find the willpower to send her away, to tell her to go hire someone else.

  He had to stop. He’d heard the police had arrested a suspect. And he knew who it was, too. He was really proud of himself for pulling it off. He might not be normal, but he was smart.

  “I shoot what catches my eye. But I have samples of my wedding photography.” He pulled out one of his portfolios. “Take it with you. My prices are in the back. If you like what you see, call me.”

  She smiled. Was she laughing at him? He let himself rock back once, twice.

  “Okay.” She stared at him. Had he rocked too much?

  “I’ll call you,” she said.