by Gina LaManna
“You swallowed it,” The Zebra snarled. “So why aren’t you dead?”
“Did I?” Once again, Beckett raised his hands so both of his palms faced the crowd. Then he swallowed, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth for all to see. The pill was gone.
“Holy guacamole,” Meg said. “Don’t you need CPR? A medic? Nine-one-one?”
“I would, if I’d swallowed it.” Beckett winked at his adoring fan, and then reached into his pocket and removed the exact same pill he’d supposedly swallowed seconds ago. “Same one. You can feel it if you like, still a bit damp from my tongue. Apologies.”
Meg took a few steps forward and laid a finger on it. “Yep,” she said, nodding to the crowd. “There’s definitely saliva on that bugger. But how did you do it?”
“A magician never gives away his secrets,” Beckett said. “But if that weren’t all, my old friend here tried to make it look like I’d taken it of my own accord.”
“You...you did,” The Zebra argued, but it fell on deaf ears.
Everyone’s rapt attention was on Beckett as he removed another, smaller pill. “What I did take was this one. Slows the heart rate down, simulates death. Just long enough for everyone to declare me DOA, and then leave me alone in peace to wake up.”
The Zebra hugged me closer to his body. The coffee smell grew stronger as did his loss of control. The situation was spiraling, and I was right in the middle of it. I caught Anthony’s gaze, and despite his longing looks, he couldn’t do anything. One wrong move, and I’d end up dead.
The church went deathly quiet.
Beckett gave a soft laugh. “I’d apologize for ruining the mood, but I’m pretty sure he already beat me to it.”
“The money has always been in your bowling pins,” Beckett said. “I never stole anything. Now, let me tell you the side of the story I never got to say as a dead man.”
Alessandra made a slight noise then, and Meg lifted her to a sitting position and patted her head. Nora bustled over with a bottle of water from her purse, then rushed back to me and dabbed at my arm.
“I met the love of my life last year,” Beckett said, his eyes sliding with a note of concern toward Alessandra. “And I looked very, very hard to find a ring special enough for her. It took me months. Months of slaving away until I found one beautiful enough. And then, just days before I was going to ask her hand in marriage, you took it from me.”
“Worthless piece of crap,” The Zebra said. “It’s not worth ten thousand dollars.”
“It was never about the money,” Beckett said, for the first time balling his fists in a rage. “It was about the fact that I’d traced down the oldest ring in my family...the family...”
He paused, met my gaze and then Alessandra’s, and I knew he was talking about The Violet Society. I should’ve guessed. Violet gemstone, left behind by Beckett. It all made sense.
“It was never about the money, but you made it about the money. So, when you took the ring—a one of a kind—from me, robbing me of the opportunity to give it to Alessandra when I proposed on December 23rd, well...I couldn’t let that slide.”
“So, you stole three million dollars from me.”
“No, I creatively re-organized its location. I don’t want your filthy cash. Never did,” Beckett said. “But I underestimated you. You were never going to let it go. The money, the ring, the game. You were going to come after me until one, or both, of us was dead.”
“That’s how this game is played,” The Zebra said, pressing the gun tighter to my temple. “We all knew the rules when we got into it. Don’t play stupid.”
“I’m not, which is why I figured the only way to beat you was to die first.” Beckett gave a wry smile. “Which is when I orchestrated the rest of the plan. The poison, the location, everything. I led you to it, made it so easy that you couldn’t possibly fail to kill me. And then, finally, I’d be free to pick up a new identity and marry my fiancé in peace. After all, identities are a dime a dozen. Now, Alessandra—she’s one of a kind.”
Alessandra sat up straighter, her face as pale as the white roses in my bouquet. A bouquet that was wilting by the second as I grasped it for dear life.
“You were never supposed to involve others in this mess,” Beckett said. “And that’s what forced me to come back now. I was going to sit the rest of this hand out, but you brought me back.”
The Zebra’s arm tightened around me, and I could practically feel him frothing at the mouth. “Walking in here was your last mistake.”
“Beckett!” Alessandra shouted, her eyes fixed not on her fiancé, but on me, on the gun at my head.
I felt The Zebra move as Alessandra’s eyes followed the motion, and within seconds, the gun fired. My ears rang, the sound deafening, shockingly close to my eardrums as I crumpled to the floor.
I lost my balance, couldn’t stand, couldn’t speak—but I could see. I watched in slow motion as Beckett took a bullet in the chest. Flailed backward, his arms waving wildly. Alessandra stood, stumbled toward him, and fell at his side.
Meg lunged after her. Anthony leapt toward me, or I imagine he did, because the next thing I knew his arms were wrapped around me, protecting me, holding me tight amidst the chaos around us.
Something rained down on us, light, feathery, colorful, and I squinted upward searching for the source. There, standing directly above us, stood Nora Luzzi, thumping The Zebra over the head repeatedly with my bouquet of roses and sunflowers.
The flowers did the trick, distracting The Zebra long enough for me to reach out and yank one leg out from underneath him. He fell hard to the ground, landing with an umph as Nora stomped on him with her tiny feet.
Anthony shouted something that I couldn’t make out, mostly since my ears were still ringing. Then he pulled himself to his feet and stood over The Zebra.
By the time I scrambled to my feet, pried the bouquet from Nora’s hands, and surveyed the situation, Anthony had The Zebra under control. It didn’t take long before Detective Rocha arrived, clinking a pair of handcuffs over The Zebra’s wrists.
“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” the detective said. “But I think we threw the rulebook out the window the moment Lacey stepped foot down the aisle.”
“We can probably all forget about this,” Anthony said, nudging The Zebra with his foot. “Just make sure he gets back to his cell.”
Detective Rocha opened his mouth to respond, but not before looking over toward Beckett’s figure, which was now moving, standing, brushing himself off after the bullet to his chest.
“Are you kidding?” the detective mumbled. “I think that man has nine lives.”
Anthony let out a quiet laugh. “At least.”
“Whew.” Beckett stood, winced, then shrugged his jacket off. He glanced around at the numerous sets of eyes staring back at him, and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think I was dumb enough to walk into a room with a murderer and not wear a vest?”
Meg let out a sigh. “You scared the bejeepers out of me.”
Beckett peeled off his tie and dress shirt, exposing the bulletproof vest. That came off next, dropped to the floor as he pressed tenderly against his chest. “That sucker will bruise.”
“Beckett...” Alessandra’s voice was a whisper. “You’re back.”
“I never left, sweetheart.” He made his way to her with deliberate steps. They sat next to each other, eyes locked, just barely breathing. “I’m so sorry. So sorry I couldn’t tell you, so sorry I couldn’t come back sooner. He had to believe I was dead.”
Alessandra raised a shaky hand, brushed it against his face. Then the other hand joined, and she let them rove over his hair, his lips, his chest, before finally the tears arrived and slid soundlessly down her cheeks.
I had a hard time swallowing, a sudden lump in my throat. The Zebra wiggled underneath Anthony’s foot, and the detective growled at him to stay still.
“They’re so sweet,” I whispered. “Look at them.”
Beckett’s han
d came up to rest on Alessandra’s, and his eyes brightened as he found the ring there. The beautiful ring he’d searched so hard to find. “You have it, you found it.”
“Thanks to Lacey,” she said. “Yes.”
“I planned to come for you tonight. I would’ve explained everything, but The Zebra took things too far, too fast. I had to do something.” He raised her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss there. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. It’s okay,” she said. Soft and sweet, she watched him for a long moment. “But if you ever set up your own murder again and don’t tell me about it, you will regret it.”
Beckett interrupted her with a chaste kiss to the lips. “I wanted to do this months ago.”
Alessandra caught her breath, her hand fluttering to her lips. “Oh.”
Beckett slipped the ring off Alessandra’s finger, studied it, spun it around. Then he palmed the jewelry, looked up, and met her gaze. “Alessandra, if I promise to never again fake my own death, will you marry me?”
A grin, bright and strong, broke through the stormy clouds as she laughed. She nodded, murmured a yes, and we all sighed collectively as he slipped the ring on her finger.
When they embraced, it was everything I could do not to cry. Until I got an idea, a very brilliant idea that was so wild it just might work. “Anthony, listen,” I said. Then I whispered my very brilliant idea in his ear, stepped back, and watched his face. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s crazy.”
“Me too,” I said with a smile. “But it just might fly.”
Chapter 34
The pre-wedding march music resumed. The mood of the congregation had changed, and so had some of the members. For starters, Detective Rocha and The Zebra had gone, with the former promising that this time, The Zebra would be taken in with special care and attention.
In other words, he wouldn’t be getting out of prison anytime soon. As an added layer of protection, I had Anthony make a quick call to Ralphie. Turned out the guy was more than happy to squeal on his boss, which would only add to the ammunition already against him.
“Lacey, get up here! Quickly,” Nora said, ushering me in line. “You’re almost up.”
“Wait—” Alessandra’s hand snaked out and caught my wrist. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I glanced around at the rest of the wedding party, now a bit disheveled, but still brimming with excitement. “Of course! I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
“But—”
“It’s up to you. Are you ready?”
Alessandra studied herself, then me, in the reflection of a shiny statue from our place in waiting at the rear of the church. A wedding dress glimmered back at us, and next to it, a bridesmaid dress.
I reached down and fingered the yellow tulle on the bridesmaid dress before turning to face Alessandra. She wore all white and looked a stunning bride. I told her so. “We are already married,” I continued. “We were doing today for the wrong reason.”
“It’s not wrong to want to celebrate with your family.”
“Fine,” I amended. “You’re right, but we were doing it for the show, the flash of the wedding. To please everyone else. That’s not what getting married is supposed to be about.”
Alessandra’s eyes landed on the yellow bridesmaid dress that somehow fit me almost as well as it did her. A little tighter in some areas, maybe, but it would do.
The wedding dress, however, looked as if it’d been made for her. It was the same one she’d lent me last night, the white, summery dress that’d always been meant for Beckett. This whole day, I realized, had come together for her and Beckett.
That’s why we’d switched places. After the fiasco with The Zebra, somebody re-distributed the weapons from the collection baskets to their rightful owners, which only made me a tiny bit nervous. Then, Carlos had talked the priest into returning to complete the ceremony.
I stepped closer to the new bride and rested a hand on her shoulder. “If you’re not ready to get married, or you want to do this your own way, that’s one thing, but—”
“No,” she interrupted. “Are you kidding? The man I love just returned from the grave. You know, in theory. I want to marry him as quickly as possible.”
“Then by all means, walk down the aisle,” I said, gesturing to the deep red carpeting leading the way to the altar. “It’s already set up and waiting for you.”
“Thank you.” Alessandra pulled me in for a hug, her bouquet brushing against my shoulder in the process. It was decidedly bare, most of the petals having fallen to the ground when Nora put The Zebra out of commission. “For this, for everything.”
“No, thank you,” I said, leaning against her as she held on tightly. “For reminding us what marriage, what weddings are all about. We did things right—for us—the first time around. This time it should be you.”
Once again, the familiar chorus began. I raised my eyebrows. “Here comes the bride.”
She smiled, stepping back as I stepped forward.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” I said, looping my arm through Anthony’s. “Isn’t there a thing about the maid of honor and the best man getting together?”
Anthony glanced down at me, my stomach, and winked. “I’d say it’s too late for that.”
I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow as he laughed.
“Isn’t it matron of honor?” he whispered at the halfway point.
“Don’t say that. It makes me sound old.”
“Does it help that I love you anyway?”
It was my turn to laugh as we reached the front of the church. Anthony wasn’t one to go without fanfare, however, and circled my waist with his arms, pulling me in for one fantastic kiss before we parted ways to frame the bride and groom.
I wasn’t even sure anybody paid attention to the order in which we all traipsed down the aisle; at this point, we all just wanted to celebrate the ceremony and be done with it.
My hair looked windblown as I leaned in to give Beckett a quick hug and the thumbs up. To my surprise, he trembled underneath my arms. Anthony shook his hand, and Beckett took a deep breath. The famous mystery man was finally out of his element. He’d died and come back to life, but it was getting married that had him sweating. Men.
Meg and Clay made the march slowly down the aisle, Meg waving and blowing kisses the entire way. I was still fixing my hair as the pair reached the altar.
“Dang, that was one spicy kiss,” Meg announced upon arrival. “Your grandmother saw that!”
“It’s too late for modesty. And anyway, it was supposed to be our wedding. We at least get a kiss out of the deal.”
“And cake,” Meg said. “I like Alessandra a lot, but don’t let her steal all of your cake.”
“She’s not going to steal my cake.”
“Better keep your eye on Beckett though. He makes things disappear.”
“Shhh,” I chastised, as the music grew louder, the congregation leaning over the sides of the pews to catch a glimpse of the bride and as she strode down the aisle.
On her arm was Carlos. For her other family, there’d be a ceremony at a later date, a private one, much like the version I’d been planning. But for now, it was just us. Not that any of the rest of us mattered since Alessandra had eyes only for Beckett.
Her eyes stayed locked on him for the rest of the ceremony, and his on her. When the priest got to the part asking about any objections, Anthony surveyed the crowd with a look that stated quite clearly that anyone speaking now would forever be holding their peace. The moment passed quickly, and the wedding concluded with gusto.
The reception continued as planned, too, and thanks to the extraordinary number of cakes available, we were all allowed to cut our own. Anthony and I had an entire cake on our plate—not that he touched it.
“Do you think we can ask for a takeout box?” I whispered. “I can’t finish the whole thing by myself.”
“You own the cake,” Anthony said. “And it’s
sort of your wedding. You can do whatever you want.”
When it was time for the bouquet toss, Meg grabbed me and pulled me onto the dance floor. “I know you’re not single anymore,” she said. “But I need your moral support. I’m going to jump high, but you be ready to scramble on the ground when Alessandra throws it.”
“I’m not scrambling anywhere.”
“But we need this bouquet.”
“Meg, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a superstition—”
It was at that moment Alessandra tossed the bouquet behind her back. The trajectory was clear immediately, and all I had to do was hold out my arms.
The flowers, or rather... stems, thumped as they landed smack in my arms.
“Great job,” Meg said, swiping it from me in a second. “You can’t have that, though. You’re married. But I’m not.” Then she made googly eyes at Clay across the room, and pretended to file her fingernails, flashing her very ring-less finger. Clay looked a bit green.
It wasn’t until most of the guests had left, the music winding down with the last of the slow dances, that Carlos approached the table where I sat with Anthony, Alessandra, and Beckett. I’d kicked my shoes off, and Alessandra had done the same.
Anthony and Beckett each had a glass of some fancy brown liquor in a glass before them, while Alessandra had wine, and I had sparkling water. Finally, the rush of the day had passed. The moment had quieted, and it was just us, now. Just the family.
Carlos raised his own glass as he approached, first to Beckett, then Alessandra. They clinked, Carlos murmured some congratulations, and then he shook Beckett’s hand.
“Did Carlos just thank you?” I asked, once he’d turned and left. “Sorry, but that’s unheard of.”
“The Zebra wasn’t only disrupting my life,” Beckett said. “Everyone’s glad he’s gone.”
“Why couldn’t you have just...I don’t know, turned him into the police for something else?” I asked. “It just seems like so much work to die for it.”
