Drake radioed the police and got clearance to land a short distance from the scene, which, in the glare of three helicopter spotlights and headlamps from three squad cars, showed Congressman Jack Cudahy in that most undignified "spread 'em" position. This was going to look really good on the ten o'clock news.
Our onboard newsman was out the door before the skids had quite touched down. I could tell Drake wanted to say something, but he let the guy go.
"You guys doing okay back there?" he asked over the intercom, grinning at Rusty and me.
I just nodded.
"They're gonna want to talk to you, Charlie," he advised. "Are you up to it?"
"Can I fake a fainting spell or something?" I joked.
"You can do anything you want."
"Let's get out of here."
We lifted off before the uniformed officers quite figured out that their material witness was getting away.
Chapter 37
Three nights later, Mr. and Mrs. Drake Langston raised new crystal champagne flutes to each other.
We were sitting cross-legged on our new bed in my upstairs office of the old Victorian. Not exactly where I'd pictured spending my wedding night, but after one day of grilling about my kidnap ordeal by the police and another day of dodging and fielding questions by reporters, I didn't have the energy to drive even to Santa Fe for a real wedding night in a real hotel so here we were.
Jack Cudahy and George Myers would face arraignment tomorrow. Turns out Myers was feeding the Congressman even more inside information from Sandia for years via Kathleen Smathers who shared her favors equally between the two, in return for her lavish lifestyle at Tanoan. And she'd been the one who packed the gift-wrapped explosive package in Joe Smathers' bag. They'd all been an à trois item for years.
Already Cudahy's PR people were appealing to the voters in their best roundabout-dodge'em political-speak to convince people that he'd really done nothing wrong. Between the evidence on the disk, which Stephanie Claridge had beautifully printed out and faxed to every major news source in the country, and the irrefutable news coverage of his honor spread-eagled over the hood of his limo at the kidnap scene, I didn't think he had a snowball's chance of getting away with this one. But you just never know with voters. The sex scandal aspect of it probably assured he would be reelected. Here in New Mexico I've seen some pretty incredible stuff. I wondered if a person could actually serve in the U.S. Congress at the same time they're serving behind bars . . . I'd have to look it up someday.
The arson investigation met a swift end when Whiney Voice confessed to the deed, and the arson investigator himself called me to apologize for even thinking I was involved. A small consolation, considering we still didn't have a house.
And Kent Taylor informed me that Mean Voice had admitted hiring the tall man in the black Stetson to blow away Jim Williams. Kent was only too happy to return Drake's gun to me at the wedding and to forgive the fact that I'd never gone by to give a statement after the shooting.
The wedding? Oh, yeah. Well, we discovered that you can get a marriage license at the courthouse right across from the police station, and that judges are sometimes still in their offices after six p.m.
Ron's longtime contention that a P.I.'s work is mostly done on the telephone was proven out when he managed to get Elsa Higgins, Sally and her husband Ross, Hannah Simmons, Kent Taylor, Pedro and Concha, Linda Casper and Todd the computer whiz (who had indeed escaped the killers-the two thugs had been bragging to please the boss-although his trip to Mexico had been cut short by a case of Montezuma's revenge), and of course Ron himself and his three kids downtown and into the judge's chambers for the ceremony, all with less than an hour's notice. Elsa bustled in carrying a tissue-wrapped package for me that contained the ivory lace dress my mother had worn as her travel outfit after her own wedding. I slipped into it in the ladies room. Sally and Ross brought the crystal champagne flutes, and Pedro and Concha's restaurant contributed a bottle of Asti Spumanti.
Being a media darling has its benefits. Having my face splashed all over the news—including my kidnapping, the fact that I solved a fifteen year old plane crash, a murder, an arson, and several burglaries, not to mention putting a crooked politician out of office—has led to certain privileges being granted. For instance, Rusty was allowed in the judge's chambers to attend the wedding. And our wedding photos were taken gratis by the staffs of both Albuquerque newspapers. Of course, they may turn out to look more like mug shots, but that too will be a happy memory someday.
All in all, it was a perfect wedding.
We're thinking about a honeymoon trip, but maybe later. Christmas time might be nice.
For now, we're just happy to be together, realizing that having each other, having a life together and a home that we'll go back to someday—these are things we very nearly might have lost forever.
Books
by Connie Shelton
The Charlie Parker Series
Deadly Gamble
Vacations Can Be Murder
Partnerships Can Be Murder
Small Towns Can Be Murder
Memories Can Be Murder
Honeymoons Can Be Murder
Reunions Can Be Murder
Competition Can Be Murder
Balloons Can Be Murder
Obsessions Can Be Murder
Gossip Can Be Murder
Stardom Can Be Murder
Holidays Can Be Murder - a Christmas novella
The Samantha Sweet Series
Sweet Masterpiece
Sweet’s Sweets
Sweet Holidays (December 2011)
Sign up for Connie Shelton’s free newsletter at www.connieshelton.com
Contact by email: [email protected]
Follow Connie Shelton on Twitter and Facebook
Memories Can Be Murder
Published by Secret Staircase Books, an imprint of
Columbine Publishing Group
PO Box 416, Angel Fire, NM 87710
Copyright © 1999 Connie Shelton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the accuracy and completeness of information contained in this book we assume no responsibility for errors, inaccuracies, omissions, or any inconsistency herein. Any slights of people, places or organizations are unintentional.
Book layout and design by Secret Staircase Books
Cover image © Vividpixels
Cover background image © cekur
Also published in trade paperback
First trade paperback edition: July, 2010
Memories Can Be Murder: The Fifth Charlie Parker Mystery Page 21
