According to Wyatt, all of the people I’d talked to had also been questioned by the police and cleared of any suspicion. I had to agree there was no substantial evidence that pointed to any one of them and assumed we’d all been barking up the wrong tree all along. Wyatt told Wendy the detectives would be widening their search to take in all the people associated with the church, Steiner’s neighborhood, and his friends and relatives who’d not already been questioned. They also intended to make another thorough investigation of the crime scene in case some small clue had been overlooked, or a bit of trace evidence had not yet been discovered.
It sounded to me as if the investigating team was stepping up their search for the perpetrator, and I was happy to hear this was the case. I’d pretty much come to the conclusion my efforts were at a dead end, and I’d be forced to leave it entirely in the hands of the detectives, where it no doubt should have been left in the first place. Investigating murders and other crimes was their forte, not mine, and I had other important matters to concern myself with right now.
After the wedding the next day, Stone and I would have a relaxing day at the inn on Sunday to recuperate from the effects of a busy weekend. All of our guests, except the Davidsons, would be departing that day and no one else was scheduled to arrive for nearly ten days. Sheila and Randy would head home to Fairway on Monday morning, and Stone and I would have one more night before taking off on our much-deserved honeymoon.
We had booked a flight to Jamaica where we’d spend a week of touring, trying out some Caribbean cuisine, and enjoying the sunshine and beautiful beaches. We’d climb up Dunn’s River Falls one day, if I was still able to do that with a waterproof cast on my left wrist, and take a raft ride down the Martha Brae River on another. We planned to take in some reggae music and sample some fried plantains and jerk chicken. We hoped to see all the sights that Kingston and Ocho Rios had to offer.
I was really looking forward to our honeymoon, and to spending quality time with Stone that didn’t revolve around the responsibilities of running the Alexandria Inn. I was tired from the events that had followed Pastor Steiner’s death, and sore from my recent falls. I could use a little rest, relaxation, and good times, all in the company of my new husband.
* * *
Stone and Randy had returned from their fishing trip with Wyatt by the time we’d made it back from the floral shop. They were excited about a successful day of fishing and were planning a fish fry for Saturday evening. They assured Sheila and me they’d be responsible for frying the crappie and preparing all the fixings to go with it. They’d be serving green beans stewed in bacon fat, and Stone didn’t think a person could eat fish without fried potatoes to go with it. I was happy to leave them in charge of Sunday’s supper. I would be exhausted from the wedding activities, packing for our honeymoon, and taking care of an inn full of guests.
For tonight’s meal, which would have to serve a dozen people, Stone was smoking barbecued ribs and chicken on the oversized grill he’d recently purchased at Home Depot. Randy was outside sweeping off the back patio and decorating the gazebo for tomorrow’s festivities.
Sheila and I spent the afternoon welcoming guests to the inn. My Aunt Carol and Uncle Joe came in from Deadwood, South Dakota, and several of my closest friends arrived from various locations that included Gardner, Kansas, and St. Charles, Missouri. One old high school friend of mine, Kylie Schoelanker, traveled to Rockdale from south Texas. A cousin from down around the Lake of the Ozarks rounded out the array of guests checking in that evening. She showed up just before supper was ready to serve.
All the other guests were due in Saturday morning, planning to be in Rockdale just long enough for the wedding and reception. They all lived close in and around the Kansas City Metro area and would not be staying overnight with us. Still, I would enjoy showing the Alexandria Inn off to them. I was proud of all the hard work Stone and I had put in to restoring the historic mansion and bringing back the elegance and grandeur it once had. Sheila stayed busy in the kitchen while I took guests on tours of the inn.
Sheila helped me prepare supper’s side dishes for all the guests. She fixed a macaroni salad and some baked beans to go with the barbequed meat Stone had smoking on his grill. Together, Sheila and I made up a vegetable and dip tray for appetizers, and a large blueberry cobbler for dessert to be served with vanilla ice cream. While we were in between tasks we sat down at the kitchen table to chat over coffee.
“Do you think we’ll have time tomorrow morning to run by the Websters’ house?” Sheila asked. “We might be able to get a glimpse of Buck’s Mustang. I’d like to see if it has a sticker on the front.”
“Good idea. I know there are other black Mustangs in the county, but I can’t imagine a lot of them having colorful bumper stickers. People rarely put those on cars these days. I’ll get Buck’s address out of the phone directory, and we’ll just plan on driving by his house.”
“What are we going to tell Stone and Randy as an excuse to leave the inn?” Sheila asked.
“We might need some more paper plates and plastic forks,” I said. “We might even need a few extra Styrofoam cups for the coffee and punch.”
“Oh, are you running short on all of those things?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “I have enough for a royal wedding, but the men don’t know that. I don’t think Stone even knows there’s a walk-in pantry off the kitchen, much less ever stepped foot in to it. As long as food somehow shows up on the table, he’s content.”
An hour later we served supper and everyone ate heartily. Stone’s barbeque was a huge success. Following supper, all the ladies helped clear the dining room table and clean up the kitchen. Then everyone gathered in the parlor as Aunt Carol played the piano and Kylie sang popular tunes while others joined in. Stone was mixing drinks at the bar he’d built for just such an occasion. It was a fun evening and everyone appeared to enjoy themselves. Once again I was glad I’d opted not to cancel the wedding and reschedule it at a later date.
* * *
While getting ready for bed Friday evening, I told Stone what Wyatt had told Wendy about the detectives clearing everyone they’d interviewed. I also told him I’d thrown in the towel and was leaving the investigation entirely up to the investigators. I had too much to do now to concern myself with it any longer. Stone appeared very relieved.
“I can’t say I’m sorry to hear you say that,” he said. “I spoke with the Methodist minister at Wyatt’s church, Tom Nelson, yesterday and he’s planning to be here at about one-thirty tomorrow. I told him about your reservations in going ahead with the wedding, and he thought that was pure nonsense. He agreed it would be nice if the killer had already been apprehended and arrested, more for the sake of the family and congregation at the Baptist Church than anything else, but he thought it would have been silly to postpone our wedding when all the details had already been planned and arranged. He didn’t think anyone would think less of us for going through with our nuptials as scheduled.”
“That makes me feel a little better,” I said.
“And it makes me feel better hearing you say you’re backing off your desire to help track down a suspect. I’ve seen your life and well-being endangered more than once because of your impulsive actions, and I really don’t want to see it happen again.”
He and Randy knew nothing of our encounter with Rocky and Spike earlier in the day, and if I had my way, they never would. There were just some things that were better left unsaid. “Don’t worry, Stone. I’ve been cautious and totally in control this time around. Nothing is going to happen to me. You needn’t worry so much.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I love you more than life itself, and I couldn’t stand to see anything happen to you. You are my life, and about to become my wife. I can’t tell you how happy I am right now!”
We fell asleep in each other’s arms, exactly where I wanted to fall asleep for every single night from that moment on.
Chapter 17
I woke up in the midst of a nightmare about three o’clock in the morning. In the dream, I’d been standing in front of Tom Nelson, who held an open Bible in his hands, and I was surrounded by all my family and friends. I was wearing my lovely pink silk dress, and my hair, recently permed and highlighted, looked as good as it was ever going to look. My nails, all manicured and painted, also looked terrific. The cakes, punch bowl, and flower arrangements were all positioned perfectly. The guests were all smiling in anticipation. Even the pair of doves that had been delivered an hour earlier, as planned, were cooing quietly in their cage and waiting patiently for their chance to fly free after the vows had been exchanged. Everything was in perfect order for a picture-perfect wedding.
The only thing missing was the groom. Stone was nowhere to be found. Neither Randy nor Wendy knew where he was, and he hadn’t mentioned being late to Detective Wyatt Johnston or to his nephew, Andy, either. The grandfather clock just inside the back door struck half past the hour of three, and there was still no sign of Stone. He had skipped out and left me standing at the proverbial altar. I’d been afraid he’d take a long, hard look at all my inherent faults and weaknesses and come to his senses before the big day, but I hadn’t expected him to change his mind at the very last moment. I hadn’t expected him to humiliate me this way.
I looked around at the crowd who were now all laughing at me as they began to realize what was happening. Even Paula Bankston’s dogs, Tiny and Moose, were perched on chairs in the back row, snickering as only a tiny Chihuahua and a massive mastiff can do. This should have clued me in that it was only a dream, but it didn’t. Nor did the dancing clown with the creepy makeup, or the fact that Sheila had morphed into my late, great-grandmother and was serving hot dogs and peanuts to the crowd. I hadn’t remembered inviting Joe Namath to the wedding either, but there he sat in the third row.
It was only when Frieda, the vocalist from church, began singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” that I woke up, bathed in sweat. I was relieved to discover I’d only been having a nightmare, and that my fiancé was lying in bed next to me. I tried to go back to sleep, but only managed to doze off a few times, while spending the rest of the night tossing and turning. It was a wonder I didn’t wake Stone up with all the thrashing I was doing trying to find a position that would put me back to sleep.
With my mind racing in numerous directions, I knew the chances of me falling back to sleep were remote. I was worrying about every little aspect of the wedding to be held tomorrow, afraid some critical detail had slipped my mind. I was also wondering if driving by the Webster’s house in the morning was a good idea. It had been very important to me to see Pastor Steiner’s killer apprehended before another minister stepped in to officiate our wedding, but all my efforts so far had been fruitless, causing me nothing but grief, embarrassment, fear, and humiliation, not to mention a broken wrist. Wasn’t it better to leave well enough alone, whether the killer was ever brought to justice, or not? I flipped over in bed for at least the hundredth time while I mulled it over.
At six o’clock I gave up and went downstairs to brew a pot of coffee and have a few moments to myself out on the back porch before the inn became a beehive of activity. There I reflected on how my life was about to change. I would never make a major decision on my own again without talking it over with Stone. It would never be just “me” again, for I would soon form a partnership and be half of “we.” I knew I could never give up my independent nature, and I knew Stone would never ask me to, or even want me to. But I also realized I wasn’t the type to be selfish, and would always take his best interests into consideration before I acted on any impulse.
The impulsiveness would never fade entirely from my personality, but it might be tempered some. For both of our sakes, I hoped so.
* * *
“Are you ready for a refill?” Sheila’s voice behind me startled me awake. After my fitful night of rest, I had dozed off in the lounge chair on the back porch.
“Oh, my, I fell asleep,” I told her. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Worried that everything wouldn’t go smoothly today?”
“Well, yes, that’s one of the things I’ve been fretting over.”
“Well, there’s no need to worry at all,” Sheila assured me. “Wendy is due here any moment and she and I are in charge today. This is your wedding day, and you shouldn’t be burdened with all the mundane responsibilities you normally have. While you rest back here on the porch, she and I will prepare bacon, eggs, and French toast for all the guests, then we’ll freshen up the guest rooms, pass out clean linen, clean up after breakfast, and make sure everything is in order.
“Oh, Sheila. You two don’t need to do all that.”
“Maybe not, but we’re going to. Now hand me your cup. I can see you need a warm up.”
After Sheila refilled my cup I stood up to give her a big hug, “I love you, my friend. I am so lucky you are in my life.”
“I love you too. Always have, always will. Now sit down and relax and leave everything to Wendy and me.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome,” Sheila said. “By the way, we really do have a valid reason to go out this morning. I just noticed we are running low on coffee. We had it on our shopping list but somehow forgot to put any in our basket yesterday.”
“Oh, that’s right! I remember we got distracted by the old man and woman arguing about their cholesterol levels at the meat counter.”
“That’s right, we did. Well, we’ll plan on going to Pete’s after breakfast. Wendy can hold down the fort while we’re gone, I’m sure. And, of course, we can cruise by the Webster’s house on our way home.”
“But Sheila, you don’t think Wendy will wonder why I can’t make the trip to the grocery store by myself?” I asked. We really did need to go out to purchase coffee, I realized. The thought of running out of it sent a chill up my spine. I needed coffee nearly as much as I needed oxygen. Surely nothing bad could come of driving by the Webster’s house while we were out and about anyway. I could feel my recent resolve to leave the murder case well enough alone begin to slip out of my grasp.
“We haven’t seen each other in ages,” she replied. “It’s only natural we’d want to spend every spare minute we can visiting with each other.”
“I guess that’s true enough. Well, don’t let me keep you from working while I’m back here lounging around like a lazy slug. Are you still going to do my hair for me before the wedding?”
“Of course!” Sheila said, as she turned to go back into the inn. “I am your slave for the day. Just don’t get too accustomed to it!”
Chapter 18
“Should we stop and pick up the coffee first, since it’s on our way to the Webster’s house?” I asked.
“Good idea,” Sheila said. “Why don’t you let me go in and get the coffee? I don’t think the manager wants to start his day off by seeing you walk into his store. Besides, like I said earlier, I’m your slave for the day, and you don’t want to waste an opportunity like this. It may never happen again.”
“Okay. I’ll wait here for you.”
It was only about five minutes later when Sheila walked out of Pete’s Pantry with a bag in her hand. The plastic bag was bulging.
“Folgers was on sale today,” she said, as she opened the passenger side door. “So I bought three big containers of their Gourmet Supreme Dark Roast. I know you like your coffee strong and thick as motor oil.”
“Thanks, pal!”
I pulled the car out of the parking lot and turned left toward Mulberry Street, which was about five or six blocks east of the store. It wasn’t long before we located the Webster house, a tan, very nondescript house with absolutely no landscaping, about halfway down the block. I didn’t think it was a good idea to pull right into their driveway, or even right in front of the house. “Let’s park a couple houses up and walk down there so as not to be too obvious.”
“Before we get out, I want to
call Wendy,” I said. “I forgot to tell her that Andy called right before we left and said he’d be over around eleven to help out in any way he could. I know my daughter, and she’ll want to freshen up her makeup and comb her hair before he gets there.”
I spoke briefly with Wendy, and told her we’d be gone a little longer than expected because I was going to show Sheila a few things around town, which was technically the truth. I then stowed the cell phone in the pocket of my jacket and got out of the car.
It was still fairly early in the morning and, despite the beautiful weather, there was no activity on the street. It was quiet and serene with a soft breeze blowing. I was pleased that no one was outside their homes to observe us walking up to the Webster house.
The garage door was closed, but the door leading into the garage from the side yard was standing wide open. I doubt this would be considered an open invitation to enter the garage, but I hoped walking through that open door would not be construed as breaking and entering. It was not my goal to get arrested on my wedding day.
“What do you think?” I asked, pointing toward the side door.
“Well, I would take that as an indication they’re home. I’m not sure it would be wise to go into the garage though. It’s a good way to get shot as intruders. What if Buck is actually messing around in there? Then what would we say?” Sheila asked.
“We could say we were going to knock on the door until we heard a racket inside the garage, and figured he wouldn’t be able to hear the doorbell ring, so we decided to join him.”
“Join him in the garage for what reason?”
“I don’t know. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”
“Oh, boy—”
“Come on, it will be okay. Follow me,” I said. I really wasn’t convinced it would be okay, but we’d come this far and I hated to give up now.
Approaching the house from the next-door neighbor’s property line, we could hear Sandy’s voice coming from the back deck. I peeked around the corner of the house and saw her resting comfortably in a chaise lounge, holding a glass of tea and talking to someone on the phone. She appeared to be quite involved in the conversation and I didn’t think she’d be standing up and going into the garage any time soon.
Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 04 - With This Ring Page 20
