“I hope so.”
“I saw that you decided to reopen the Sam Stiles case. Good choice,” he said.
“Well, it wasn’t my first choice, but his mom called on his birthday. How could I say no?” Katie looked out at the flowers and the twinkling lights.
“Those are the toughest, I know. I think you will have good luck with this case and solve it.”
“I believe that there was foul play—that’s just my theory—at least right now.”
“How was Paul?” he said, quickly changing the conversation.
“You mean Detective Patton?”
He nodded.
“He’s fine. Kind of an interesting character living alone up in that large cabin.”
“He’s had a bit of a rough time after his wife passed suddenly.”
Katie thought about how the house and yard were beautifully decorated. “It must be difficult for him, everything around him must remind him of her.” She thought a moment before she asked, “What’s your take on him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, was he a good cop? Well liked? Had he a reputation for solving and closing cases? Just stuff like that,” she said.
“He was a good cop. I always thought he would have wanted to be something else… besides a cop.”
“What made you think that?” She remembered the file folder he gave her with notes that were more appropriate for a background for a novel or screenplay. It still seemed odd to her that he gave her those. It was almost as if he was trying to tell her something. What it was—she didn’t know.
“Things he said and implied. He never really liked being on patrol—he was more pessimistic than the rest of us. But things changed a bit when he made detective. It suited him more.”
“I could see that,” she said.
“Between you and me, I always felt like there was something else going on in his life that he wasn’t sharing.”
“What do you mean? Something illegal?” she said.
“No, nothing like that. I always got the feeling that he was dealing with something difficult that he wasn’t willing to confide with anyone.”
Katie thought about her conversation with him, and remembered that she too had the feeling that he was anxious about something. She’d dismissed it as being protective over a case that he had investigated.
There were voices at the entrance as guests began to arrive.
“Oh, I better go be the good host,” he said, giving Katie a kiss on the cheek. “And don’t think that I didn’t notice that you bought a new dress. That firefighter of yours is not going to know what hit him.”
“Uncle Wayne…” Katie said, embarrassed.
As most of the guests arrived, Katie recognized many people. Some were from the department, either on current duty or retired, while others were longtime family friends. People were standing enjoying their drinks and others had small plates of appetizers.
Katie smiled and nodded a hello to several sheriff’s department personnel—including the top brass—as she made her way back outside to find McGaven and Denise enjoying some hors d’oeuvres. They were acting cute and feeding each other samples from their plates.
“Hello, you two,” said Katie, guessing that they didn’t care if anyone at the department knew they were dating.
“Katie,” said Denise. “Wow, that dress is… you look beautiful.” She leaned in and hugged her friend.
“I second that wow. Where’s my partner?” joked McGaven.
“You’re very kind, thank you. I’m glad that you both could make it.”
“This is incredible, such fabulous food,” said Denise enjoying another bite.
Katie noticed her uncle seemed to have disappeared and wasn’t making his rounds through the crowd.
“You have to try this little puff pastry,” said Denise and gave Katie some.
Politely, she took a bite. “Wow, you’re not kidding. This is really good.”
“Where’s Chad?” McGaven asked.
“He’s going to be a little bit late finishing a shift,” she said. “Well, I’m going to find my uncle, otherwise I’m going to eat all those puff pastry goodies.”
“We’ll talk to you later,” said Denise cuddling in with McGaven.
Katie was still excited that her partner and friend were dating. They made the cutest couple: McGaven so tall like an all-American farm boy, while Denise was petite and full of enthusiasm, and they seemed to be getting along really well.
She moved through the crowd noticing that the volume level had begun to rise since she had arrived—most likely due to the consumption of alcohol and the festive celebration.
Someone touched her arm and she expected to see Chad, but instead she saw John, the Pine Valley PD forensic supervisor, staring at her. “I wanted to say hello before there was a line of people waiting to talk to you,” he said with good humor. He was dressed in slacks and a dark green long-sleeved shirt. His intense blue eyes locked on hers.
“John, it’s so nice to see you here. What, a night off from crime scenes?” she asked.
“My crew can handle it, but they know they can call me if needed.”
“Always available.” She smiled.
“Yes, available I am,” he said with emphasis. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Katie tried not to let her slight embarrassment show as she felt her temperature rise. She turned to the entrance just as Chad walked in. Her pulse quickened at the sight of him and his eyes on her.
John noticed too. He smiled and said, “I’ll see you later,” and disappeared into the crowd. She watched him and wondered how he dealt with the memories of being a Navy Seal, but felt glad he’d switched careers as there was no one better to run a forensic unit.
“Hi,” Chad said and kissed her. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not at all. I think the party is just getting started.”
They moved through the crowd stopping periodically to say hello to old friends and new, shaking hands as well as giving brief hugs. With relief, Katie noticed that her uncle had rejoined his guests at last.
At one point, Katie and Chad passed by a large display case filled with the sheriff’s collection of antique guns, and stopped to admire it with some other guests. There were several western guns, some Colt revolvers, pepperboxes, and Derringers. Most of them were circa 1830s, and a couple of them had some silver adornment with one-of-a-kind etching. Her uncle also had a pair of hooked fighting knives from the seventeen hundreds in there.
“How long has your uncle been collecting?” asked Chad.
“I’m not completely sure, but certainly since he became a police officer. He’s very particular about what he puts in there.”
“It’s an amazing way of documenting history.”
“Definitely,” she said.
“Wow, look at those knives,” said a guest. “I’d hate to be up against someone with one of those.”
“I believe those are Spanish fighting knives,” said Katie.
“Are they for decoration, or were they actually used to fight?” the guest asked.
“From what I understand,” she said, “they were actually used in honor fights.”
“That’s the last thing that any cop needs when responding to a call,” said Chad.
“You’re not kidding,” said McGaven as he walked up behind them and joined in on their conversation. “But maybe we should make it a part of our weapon arsenal, just in case.”
Everyone laughed, except Katie. She had been watching her uncle as he approached and knew something was wrong.
“Uncle Wayne,” Kate said as she hugged him tightly the moment she could get to him. She could smell whiskey on his breath. He wasn’t usually much of a drinker, even when he was celebrating.
“So great to have you here, my gorgeous Katie.” He then extended his hand to Chad. “Glad you could make it.”
“Thank you for inviting me, Sheriff,” he said.
Katie leaned in. “Are y
ou feeling okay?”
“Me? Of course. Maybe just a bit tired. Go enjoy yourselves.”
Nine
Katie and Chad moved back through the crowd sipping new drinks and nibbling on appetizers. She tried to put all concerns for her uncle and thoughts of the cold case to the back of her mind. She just wanted to enjoy the party. It was a celebration!
A small quartet played outside on the patio, beautiful with the blooming garden in the background and following the same theme as the decorations from inside of the house.
“Well, Detective Scott,” Chad began as he took her by the waist, holding her tight, “I think a dance is in order.”
Katie didn’t object as they joined several couples in a slow sway to the music.
“Excuse me, may I have your attention please,” interrupted her uncle. He waited a moment until everyone was quiet before continuing. Katie and Chad moved to the French doors to hear what he was going to say.
“First, I want to thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate this special occasion.” He wrapped his arm around Claire’s waist. “What am I saying? It’s an absolute miracle that we’ve been married for ten years.”
There were soft chuckles throughout the crowd.
“Seriously, I won’t make this sappy or long, but it means a lot to me that you all are sharing our special day. I couldn’t imagine my life without this amazing woman at my side. I love you, Claire,” he said and kissed her.
Everyone clapped and yelled their well wishes.
“Oh, and one more thing,” the sheriff said, “I would like for all of you to witness.” He pulled the velvet box from the inside of his jacket. He opened it and said, “To the most amazing and beautiful woman that I’ve ever known. This is to celebrate and honor our ten-year marriage.” He pulled out the necklace and the crowd gasped.
Claire put her hand to her mouth in surprise as she held back the tears. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”
He put the necklace around her neck and gave her a kiss, mouthing, “I love you.”
The guests cheered and clapped again before dispersing to enjoy themselves.
“They make a great couple,” said Chad.
“They really do,” Katie said, believing for a moment that she was beginning to discover what true happiness was like.
The evening pushed on and everyone seemed to enjoy the party and each other. Katie had never laughed as much as she had talking with everyone. Even her feet didn’t hurt as much as she thought they would in her high strappy heels.
Amped up from all of the conversations and positive energy throughout the party, Katie took a moment alone to gaze at the garden in the backyard. With the evening light and tiny strings of white lights around the patio, the twisty blooming vines with the delicate white flowers looked magical. The fragrance coming from honeysuckle, roses, and lilacs was intoxicating.
Chad came up and wrapped his arms around her waist. They didn’t speak but enjoyed the moment where they were—together. They both were relaxed and happy. It was a moment that Katie could only describe as pure bliss.
“GET OUT!” yelled her uncle from inside the house. Katie heard several gasps and then the party went quiet. “I said, get out!” he yelled again.
Katie broke away from Chad and ran through the crowd to find her uncle face to face with the guy she’d spoken to regarding the Stiles cold case—retired detective Paul Patton. Paul looked different—not the hospitable ex-detective widower with a nice Labrador retriever having iced tea with her.
What was going on?
“Fine,” Patton seethed. “But, we all know the truth.”
“You couldn’t handle the job, and now you’ve chosen tonight of all nights to air your grievances. Go home, Paul—just go home.” Suddenly realizing the crowd of stunned faces around him, the sheriff tried to regain his calm and diffuse the tension.
McGaven and John inched closer in case something more happened.
“Secrets have a way of spilling out when you least expect it,” Patton seethed, grabbing a tumbler and hurling it at the display cabinet beside them, shattering the glass from both the tumbler and the front of cabinet.
McGaven pounced. “C’mon, it’s time to go,” he said, grabbing Patton’s arm and dragging him out of the party through a sea of astonished guests.
Katie’s uncle turned to the crowd and said calmly, “I’m sorry for the interruption, folks. I guess some people can’t handle their alcohol. But please, both Claire and I want you to enjoy the rest of the party.”
Katie dashed to the pantry to find a broom and dustpan to sweep up the glass. Her aunt assisted her. “Katie, honey, you don’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem. I don’t want anyone to step in it. The faster it gets cleaned up, the faster everyone can get back to enjoying themselves like it never happened.”
She looked around as she returned to the main area and saw her uncle talking with a group of four people. “Uncle Wayne, may I see you for a moment,” she said, taking his arm and gently steering him into his study at the end of the hall.
“Uncle Wayne, what’s going on?”
He took a breath. “I’ll explain later.”
She put her hand on his arm. “No. Tell me now. What was that all about?”
“Okay.”
Katie watched her uncle carefully. His balance was off, his face pale, and perspiration was heavy on his forehead. She waited patiently for him to explain.
“Paul has always been moody. He could be happy and content one moment and then pissed off at the next.”
“I thought you told me he was a good cop?”
“He was… but there was always something up with him. It was like every time something good happened at the department, or when I got a promotion, he mocked it saying stupid things like that would never happen to anyone else.”
“What did he mean by that?” she asked.
“Like I said before, he seemed like police work was beneath him. Like he could have done anything else.”
“What did he mean by we all know the truth?”
“I don’t know. He came in cursing up a blue streak and saying that I don’t deserve everything that has been given to me…”
“Sounds more like he’s jealous. Has he ever acted like this before?”
“No, never to this degree. Never so openly. I care about the guy, but to come here to my house and disrupt my celebration—I draw the line right there.”
Katie studied her uncle. Was there more to their rift?
“I know that look, Katie,” he said. “Everything is fine, I assure you. Now c’mon, let’s go back to the party. Everyone has probably already forgotten about that stupid outburst by now.” He smiled and led Katie out of the study.
The party continued, but there was a change in the air that made Katie feel like she wanted nothing more than to go home and fall into bed. Chad led her to the foyer where her uncle and aunt were saying some goodbyes to guests. She noticed that her uncle still looked pale.
“Uncle Wayne, Aunt Claire, this was lovely. Happy, happy anniversary to you both,” she said and hugged each of them. “We’re still on for a run at 7.00 a.m. and then a quick breakfast on me, right?”
“Of course,” he said.
“I can’t wait. I’ll need a run to burn some calories of this fabulous food,” said Claire.
“Uncle Wayne, are you feeling okay?” Katie asked.
“I’m fine. I think some of those seafood puffed balls upset my stomach, that’s all.”
Katie and Chad said good night and left.
Ten
Sunday 0650 hours
After a good night’s sleep, Katie returned to her uncle’s house just before 7.00 a.m. in her jogging gear. Everything looked neat and orderly, the driveway now empty, caterers packed up, and the mini orchestra was gone. It looked as if no one had ever been there. She wondered if her uncle had stayed up late to clean up. She rang the doorbell, stretching her hamstrings to warm up as she waited.
Minutes passed, but no one answered.
Confused, she walked around to the back of the house and peered in through the French doors. The front room was neat and tidy, but the lights were off. She tried the doors, but they were locked. It was possible they had slept in after a long evening—maybe her uncle really was sick.
Katie looked at her cell phone but there were no text messages from either one of them. She decided to try the front door one more time and rang the doorbell again, for longer this time, pressing her ear against the door. She heard movement—it sounded as if something was being dragged across the floor. Her mind went into worst-case scenario mode. Cop or no cop, she sensed something was wrong.
She slammed on the door with her fist. “Uncle Wayne? You in there?”
More shuffling on the other side of the door.
“Uncle Wayne?” her voice wavered.
The door slowly unlocked and it opened a crack. Her uncle stood there, barefoot in his sweats and a white T-shirt. He was disheveled and looked as if he had aged twenty years overnight. He didn’t speak—his eyes a thousand miles away. He was clearly in shock.
“What’s going on?” she said.
He opened the door wider to reveal his shirt was covered in bright red blood—spattered and smeared, his hands and forearms bloody.
Katie rushed inside. “What happened? Are you alright?” Her first thought was someone had broken in and her uncle had been attacked, but there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry.
“I… didn’t… there was…” he muttered.
“Uncle Wayne, sit down,” she said and guided him to the couch, quickly checking him over to see if he had been seriously injured. But the blood didn’t appear to be his. “Are you hurt?”
He tried to speak, but his words didn’t make sense. “So much… everywhere… I…”
“Uncle Wayne, where is Claire? Is she here?”
He didn’t say anything, but kept glancing to the far side of the house where the bedrooms were located.
Flowers on Her Grave Page 6
