Down by the River (27 page)

T
he girls held a glorious reunion with Bebe, Althea, and the Butlers when they got home. What had been somewhat of a nightmare became a big adventure to share after all the chastisements and apologies were past. After all, the girls had traveled to Hollywood, had met a real Hollywood star—who happened to be their own mother—and then had watched their mother receive a big award on a television screen that took up a whole wall.

Grace had gone with Jack and Bebe to take the girls home, and then Jack drove Grace back to the Mimosa while Bebe stayed with the girls. Grace found Margaret and Vince there—ready to welcome her back—and both unusually starry-eyed.

The couple insisted on hearing about the whole rescue adventure, and then Margaret leaned forward from her seat on the couch with an excited gleam in her eye. Grace noticed that she looked to Vincent for encouragement. Something was up.

“Mother, Vincent and I have decided we don't want to wait until I graduate next May to get married. We want to marry in early September.”

Grace couldn't seem to find any words.

Margaret gave her a bright smile. “It's really sensible if you think about it. We already know we want to get married. Vincent has a nice house. And all the family is coming over, anyway for Labor Day. It's perfect, really. Everyone will already be here.”

She paused to take a breath. “Vincent has asked Reverend Hartwell to come back to do the ceremony for us. He was thrilled. And Vincent's parents can come at that time, and his sister can come, too. So, you see, we have everything worked out.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I thought we could have the reception here at the Mimosa. It would be beautiful if we set up a few tents in the backyard. You know, like we did for Elaine's wedding. Vince and I don't want anything too fancy—just family and friends.”

Grace gulped. “Margaret, that's only a few weeks away! It takes time to plan a wedding. To find dresses. To do invitations. To plan a big reception.”

Margaret reached across impulsively to hug her mother. “But that's what makes it so perfect. You've planned events a million times. And Grandma and Grandpa Richey are here. And Aunt Myra is tickled about helping me with everything now that you and she have become such friends. I've already been over to the store in South Knoxville and found the most gorgeous bridal dress and one for Elaine she'll absolutely love. She's going to be the matron of honor. And I'm having Vince's sister, Laura, and Mike's wife, Barbara, and Ken's wife, Louise, as bridesmaids. Plus my best friend Rachel Day. She owes me big time since I had to fork out huge bucks for that sequined bridesmaid's dress I wore to her wedding in Nashville last summer.”

She stopped to grin at Grace. “Won't it be fun? Your very first wedding here at the Mimosa—and it will be mine!”

Grace was stunned. “But, Margaret . . . couldn't we at least wait until Christmas? To allow some more time to plan?”

Margaret looked at Vincent and giggled. “We seem to be having a little problem with waiting.”

Vincent turned a bright red.

Grace felt Jack sit forward a little aggressively then.

Vincent waved a hand. “It's not like Margaret makes it sound.” He cleared his throat with embarrassment. “It's only that we're . . . uh . . . rather eager.”

Margaret giggled. “Vincent always has the nicest way to put things, doesn't he? None of those crude words like most guys use.”

Vincent's face grew redder, and Grace heard Jack chuckle beside her.

“Yeah, I like the term . . . eager.” Jack grinned. “It's a nice word.”

Grace turned to give Jack a stern look. “Don't encourage them, Jack Teague. This is a very sudden announcement.”

Jack patted her knee. “Think of it this way, Grace. If they're getting . . . uh . . . rather eager, it might escalate and cause some embarrassment for our preacher here. After all, he's supposed to set an example for the young people in our congregation about how to purport themselves. In how to exercise restraint.”

“Yeah.” Margaret agreed. “And we're not doing very well with restraint, Mother. I don't think we'll make it to Christmas.”

Jack burst out laughing then.

Vincent twisted his hands nervously. “I do think it would be good if we married now, Grace. We're both very sure. And I will be very good to Margaret, I promise you. Plus you will be able to be right next door for this first year of our marriage to be a help to her.” He smiled tentatively at Grace.

“See? That's really sensible, Mother.” Margaret chimed in once more. “You know that I don't know doodley about cooking and all that domestic stuff. I've always been too busy at the piano. I'm going to need
lots
of help.”

Grace began to mentally calculate the days left in the month of August. “What day exactly are you considering for the wedding?”

Margaret flashed another glowing smile. “Well, everyone will be coming in for my piano recital early Friday evening on Labor Day weekend, so we thought we'd do the Rehearsal Dinner afterward and the wedding Saturday at 2:00 pm. With Monday a holiday because of Labor Day, Vincent and I can sneak in a short honeymoon before I need to be back at classes Tuesday.”

Vincent joined in then. “A friend in the church has offered us their rental cabin in Gatlinburg for our honeymoon nights. It's in a gorgeous location on a mountaintop with wonderful views.”

“So, you see everything's worked out!” Margaret chimed in again. “Vincent has already started all the arrangements for the church. Grandma Richey said she and Grandpa would take care of the flowers with the florist they know. And with it only being family and friends, we'll be mailing announcements rather than invitations. There's really not that much to do!”

Grace tried to catch her breath. “Margaret, as I said before, Labor Day weekend is only a few weeks away!”

“I know! Isn't it great!” She flashed another smile at Grace and let a hand rove intimately over Vincent's thigh.

Grace sighed.

“Might as well accept the inevitable,” she heard Jack mutter near her ear.

She flashed him a look of annoyance—even knowing he was right.

“Well, I guess we have a lot of planning to do.” She tried her best to offer Margaret and Vincent a charming smile.

Jack reached a hand across to shake Vincent's. “Congratulations, man. Guess I'll need to dig out my best suit and get it cleaned.”

Grace suddenly felt overwhelmingly weary.

Seeming to sense it, Jack added, “Grace is pretty bushed from the long flights back and forth to California and from all the excitement with the twins. I think she might need to get some rest before she starts planning a wedding or any other event tonight.”

“Oh, well, sure.” Margaret jumped up solicitously, leaning over to give Grace a kiss on the cheek. “And I'm going to go open the bottle of champagne Vincent and I got to celebrate right now. Vincent and I made dinner, knowing you would be tired. We'll all eat a bite together and then share a toast to the girls' getting back safe and to Vincent's and my wedding plans. After that, you men can say good night, and I'll tuck mom into bed early for a good long rest.”

Jack stood up and reached down a hand for Grace's. He smirked at Margaret. “What did you cook? Is it safe?”

“Stuffed ziti. I can cook
some,
Jack Teague.” Margaret swatted at him playfully. “Vince helped me make it. It wasn't too hard. We have a Caesar salad and a good French bread, too.”

The four shared a nice evening, but Grace's mind raced in a whirl the whole time, thinking of all she had to do in the next weeks to prepare for a wedding at the Mimosa. She would need to plan the menu, order the tents, tables, and chairs, buy invitations and announcements, decide on beverages—naturally, there would be no alcohol. She would need to find a dress for herself and be sure Margaret had gotten the correct sizes for Elaine's and the bridesmaids' dresses. There were tuxes to think about and boutonnieres. Did Margaret even say who the best man and the groomsmen would be? Surely Vince had decided that.

She sighed to herself. There was so much to do. Even with the florist chosen, there were decisions to make about what flowers they would use and where. There were decisions to make about where everyone would stay. And, on top of everything else, she had to worry about whether Jane would come and how she would act.

“One person I
don't
want to invite,” Margaret said, as she raised her glass for another toast, “is Crazy Man.”

They laughed, but their laughs held an edge to them.

Vincent gave Grace one of his intense gazes. “Margaret will be safer with me, too, Grace, with Crazy Man still not found. You know that.”

It was one point Grace had to concede.

 

The subject of Crazy Man was on the table a week later as Grace scolded Margaret at the breakfast table for taking off the previous day on her own with no one with her.

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Mother! I had to go over for the final fitting on my wedding gown at Richey's.” She gave Grace a pouty look. “Besides, I'm tired of governing my life, worrying about that stupid little man.”

Grace frowned at her. “I doubt Sheriff Walker would consider him only a stupid little man after all the problems the sheriff has had with him.”

As if on cue, Grace looked up to see Swofford Walker at the back door. Behind him, as Grace unlocked the door to let him in, were Jack and Vincent.

Grace put a hand to her throat. “Has something else happened? Don't tell me someone has been hurt!”

“Well, we had an incident.” The sheriff took his hat off and laid it on the sideboard before he sat down at the kitchen table. “But it's resolved now. And we've caught our man.”

“Oh, my!” Grace sat down herself then.

Jack and Vincent went to pour themselves and the sheriff cups of coffee.

“Hey. Can we eat some of this banana bread on the counter?” Jack's voice floated over. Grace nodded at him dismissively. How could he even think of food at a time like this?

“Tell us what happened?” she asked the sheriff.

“Who was it, Sheriff Walker?” Margaret added this as she pulled out a chair at the table for herself. “And how did you find him?”

“Crazy Man is Beecher Webb,” Jack put in. “Can you believe it? Jerrell Webb and his boys Beecher and Cecil have been mowing our yards and doing all our landscaping around here on the River Road for ten years or more. Who would have thought?”

The sheriff took the coffee cup Jack offered him with annoyance. “Now, who's telling this here story, Jack, you or me?”

Jack sat down, chastised, and bit into a piece of banana bread.

“It was, in fact, Beecher Webb.” The sheriff affirmed this with a deep nod. “I'd never have thought it would have been him. Fine family, the Webbs. But Lora Jean Johnson came forward to talk to me yesterday, and she sort of put a finger on him. We'd had another incident involving her this time. She and her little girl Janelle live not far down the road from the Webbs—up off Sugar Loaf Lane. Janelle plays with Beecher's little boys. Lora Jean says she's felt right sorry for them since their mother died. And she told me Beecher hadn't been quite right ever since Ira Nelle got murdered.”

“She was murdered?” Grace knew her voice sounded incredulous.

“Yeah, and a brutal murder, too.” The sheriff took a long drink of his coffee after stirring cream and sugar into it. Then he cut off a piece of banana bread and put it on one of the plates Vincent had brought over from the sideboard.

“Beecher's wife Ira Nelle came to town one night to listen to a little bluegrass band at the Riverside Restaurant down on the Little River, but she never came home.” The sheriff shook his head. “It took dogs to finally find her. She'd been raped and stabbed. Pretty brutal thing.”

“Who did that?” Margaret asked.

The sheriff scratched his head. “Well, that's the worst of it. We never did find the killer. Sad thing, that. Makes it hard for a man to get peace in his mind and soul when the killer of his wife isn't found. Must have been that fact to push Beecher over the edge. Got him to acting nutty.”

Vincent picked up the story while the sheriff dug into his piece of banana bread. “I wasn't living here then, but I remember the retiring pastor told me a lot about what had happened. Said it had been hard on the family. Ira Nelle was the only woman who lived up there with all the Beecher men—with Jerrell, Cecil, Beecher, and their two boys Harley and Hixon. Twins—and real close to their mother. Plus, Ira Nelle sang with the family in the Webb Creek Band—and could play a fiddle right well, from what I've been told.”

“But why all the notes?” Margaret asked. “And why, particularly, such a focus on me?”

“You look somewhat like Ira Nelle.” The sheriff smiled. “Blond, pretty, and about the same height. There was a resemblance with Grace, too, and with several of the other women who received notes of warning. Lora Jean got a note a few days ago after she had a date with the Statton boy who works at the River Rat tubing company. Told her to beware of bad men.”

Grace felt confused. “But those Statton boys are all fine young men. And Lora Jean isn't even blond. Plus that doesn't explain why Jack got notes, or his girls—or Samantha and Roger about their Ruby.”

The sheriff looked irritated. “Well, now, I'm getting to it all if you'll just give me enough time. It took a while to make sense of it, and it takes a while to tell it.”

Grace shook her head slightly at Margaret who was preparing to jump in with an undoubtedly critical or impatient comment. Grace knew patience wasn't one of Margaret's long suits.

Margaret rolled her eyes—but bit her tongue.

You see,” the sheriff continued, “Beecher got himself eat up with guilt because he didn't protect Ira Nelle better. Seems she wanted him to go down to the Riverside with her that night, and he didn't care to go. They had a bit of a snit over it, and she went on down on her own. So that was the first problem. Then, of course, the second was that we never did find the man who murdered Ira Nelle.”