Ladle to the Grave (A Soup Lover's Mystery Book 4) (16 page)

“
I
SWEAR, THIS
is the last time I’ll put you through this,” Lucky said.

Sophie stood patiently as Lucky lifted the gown over her head and zipped up the side of the elegant dress. Sophie wiggled her shoulders to ease the gown on. The material whispered softly as she moved. “You’re not bugging me. I love you for doing this. You know I’d never find anything I’d like, much less spend the money on. An expensive dress is just not me. I’d rather buy outdoor gear.” She jiggled her legs. “I want to look in the mirror. Let me see.”

“Not yet.” Lucky planted her foot firmly in front of the bedroom door so Sophie wouldn’t push it closed, revealing the full-length mirror on the inside. She propped it open with a doorstop. “Close your eyes,” Lucky ordered.

Sophie obediently squeezed her eyes shut.

“Now wait!” Lucky moved to the bed and pulled the cover off the hatbox. Lifting out the circlet of pearls, she gently fitted it on Sophie’s head, sweeping the length of veil away from her face.

Sophie continued to squeeze her eyes shut.

“Okay. Now you can look.” Lucky pushed the doorstop away and closed the door, revealing the full-length mirror. Sophie opened her eyes.

Her face fell as she gazed at her reflection. She was silent, her eyes wide.

Lucky watched her closely. “What’s wrong?” she whispered. “Don’t you like it?”

Sophie shook her head. Tears came to her eyes. “It’s so beautiful. And it’s all so real now.” She shivered involuntarily.

“Of course it is,” Lucky answered. “It’s really happening.”

Sophie turned and flung her arms around Lucky, hugging her tightly. “How can I ever thank you?”

Lucky laughed. “No need. Just seeing you looking absolutely gorgeous is thanks enough. And you do. You look incredible.”

“Is this really happening? Sage and I will be married? And we’ll have a family if we’re lucky? And it will all turn out perfectly for us?” she asked in all sincerity.

“Yes. It will. You both deserve a happy life. With all the blessings.”

“Oh, Lucky, we’ve both come from such terrible poverty as children. I want to believe we can create everything we weren’t given. I think I’m just afraid to believe that.”

Lucky took her friend by the shoulders. “Look at me.” Lucky stared directly into Sophie’s eyes. “You can. You have that chance now. Don’t let fear get in your way.”

Sophie nodded mutely.

“So?” Lucky turned Sophie back to the mirror and smiled. There was no doubt in her mind that the dress couldn’t have turned out better, and the circlet of pearls and the veil against Sophie’s hair added just the right touch. “What do you think?”

“I love it. I never in a million years ever thought I would wear something so beautiful.”

“I can’t wait till Sage sees you on your wedding day. He’ll faint.” Lucky laughed. “Okay. Let’s get you out of it, shoes and all, and I’ll bring it over to Jack’s house the day before with everything you’ll need. It’s best, I think, for you to change there and get ready before Sage arrives.” Lucky thought for a moment. “Are you superstitious? Do you think Sage should spend the night before somewhere else? You know the old saw about not seeing the bride on the wedding day until the ceremony?”

Sophie shook her head. “Nah. I don’t believe in any of that stuff. Not seeing the dress, okay, I agree with that. But I think I’ll be a lot calmer if we’re together the night before.”

“Okay. Fine with me. It’s whatever you want. It’s your day.” Lucky hung the dress on a padded hanger and then, over it, a protective garment cover. She carefully replaced the circlet of pearls and the veil in the hatbox.

“And speaking of tying the knot, what about you and Elias?” Sophie watched her friend carefully as she pulled her jeans back on.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Lucky could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. “We haven’t really talked about anything like that.”

“Why not?” Sophie persisted.

“Well, neither one of us has actually brought it up. Don’t forget, we were on the verge of a total breakup a few months ago.”

Sophie quickly counted on her fingers. “Seven months ago. That’s a huge amount of time.”

Lucky smiled. “Not really.”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me not to let fear get to me? Is that what it is? You’re a scaredy-cat?”

“I don’t know.” Lucky shrugged. “I know how Elias feels about me, and I feel the same way about our relationship. I think there must come a point when it just happens naturally; don’t you think? That moment when you know it’s the right thing to do?”

“Sure. But you maybe need to talk to each other about it. Maybe you’re just too comfortable with the way things are. Maybe you’re afraid of making a big change in your life.”

“I’m not afraid,” Lucky replied defensively. “That’s silly.”

“Oh yeah?” Sophie responded sarcastically.

“I just can’t picture it, Sophie. Is that strange? I mean, Elias and I love each other, definitely, but being
married
? That’s such a big step. It feels so . . . responsible.”

“You’re very
responsible
. I don’t get what the issue is. The only thing that would really change in your life is you’d have to give up your apartment. And maybe you’d change your last name. You’d be Mrs. Letitia Scott.”

“That’s what I mean. It’s like morphing into another identity. Maybe there are more things that would change in my life that I wouldn’t like. And besides, who are you to stand there and lecture me? Mrs. DuBois-to-be?”

“You’re right. I’m nobody to lecture anybody. I’m sort of scared myself. But I guess we all hope and pray for the best when we make these decisions. And hope it turns out all right.”

“Well, I’m thrilled you and Sage have taken that step. You’re my two favorite people in the world, along with Jack and Elias.” Lucky tied the cord around the hatbox and placed it on top of the bureau. “You up for a glass of wine?”

“Absolutely.”

“Finish getting dressed and I’ll get some cheese and crackers ready.”

Lucky went to the kitchen and prepared a tray with a variety of crackers and two different cheeses. She carried the tray with a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses down the hallway into the living room and placed it on the coffee table.

Sophie followed a moment later. She spotted the cardboard box next to the table and peered inside. “Are these the photos you mentioned? The ones your mom took?”

“Yes.” Lucky was glad she had brought the photo of the two of them to the pharmacy to have it sent away and copied. She didn’t want to give away her surprise bridesmaid’s gift. “Have a look,” she said as she uncorked the wine and poured two glasses. “The ones in the large envelope are the photos of the Warners. I want you to see them. Tell me what strikes you.”

Sophie glanced at her quickly. “Is this a test?”

“Sort of.”

Sophie popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and took a sip of wine. She laid the envelope on her lap and shook the enlargements out. Leaning back on the sofa cushions, she slowly reviewed each one. She reached over to the coffee table and moved the tray to the side, laying the photos out in a long line.

“What do you think?”

“I think . . .” Sophie heaved a sigh. “I don’t know what to say. They just look like photos that didn’t turn out.”

“Sophie, it would be very difficult to take so many unusable photos. You can see there was movement as the shutter clicked, see the blurriness here and here,” Lucky said, pointing to two different photos. “I know what my mom used to do. She’d pick out a table or two and ask the people to look up and smile. She was never rude or intrusive. So I’m sure that’s what she did here. She wouldn’t just snap a candid shot, so they must have ignored her or deliberately looked away just in time.”

“How long have the Warners lived here?” Sophie asked.

“I’m not sure. Just guessing, I’d say five or six years. I remember them from trips home. I don’t think they ever lived in town. I can’t be sure, but I think they bought a house a few miles away. Remember the small farmhouse out on the main road, before you get to the turnoff to Bournmouth?”

“A yellow house, set back a bit?”

“That’s it. The owner had been a farmer and he couldn’t work anymore so he started selling off the land. And I think the Warners bought it from him before he died. Or maybe they bought it from his kids after he died. The man’s children weren’t going to farm the land and they had already moved away to the city. I remember somebody talking about the owner years ago.”

“Where did the Warners come from?”

Lucky shook her head and shrugged. “I have no idea. I think Leonard might have done some kind of handyman work, or he might have been retired by then. And they were raising Mike, their grandson.”

“Where were Mike’s parents?”

“They were gone. I assumed they were both dead. If I recall, there was a lot of sympathy toward the Warners. Their son had died or been killed, maybe in an accident or something, and his wife, the boy’s mother, had died of some illness. But that’s all I know. No one really knew any more details about their past.”

“So Mike must be about what now? Ten? Older?”

“Maybe. Look at these pictures. He’s a little kid here, looks like about five years old? So he must be ten or eleven by now. There’s not one photo where you can actually see the little boy’s face. You can see his arm, or a piece of him, but he’s blocked in every single photo, either by his grandfather reaching across the table for something or standing right in front of him. And you can tell these were taken on different days; the clothing is different. They’re only wearing the same outfits in two of these pictures.”

“I noticed that too.”

“My mother must have been determined to get their picture. She had to be suspicious of something. Suspicious of who they were, maybe, or do you think it could have been something criminal? Or did she think they were fugitives of some sort?”

Sophie shrugged. “I have no idea. But it’s pretty hard to be fugitives with a five-year-old kid in tow, don’t you think?”

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

Lucky described finding Leonard standing outside Jack’s house in the dark.

“That’s unbelievable!” Sophie exclaimed.

“I feel sorry for what happened. I really do. Even though I’m sure it wasn’t Jack’s fault. But last night . . . it was intimidation. I think he was hoping Jack would see him, not me. It’s like he’s trying to drive Jack around the bend, and last night . . . he almost succeeded.”

“Poor Jack. I can’t imagine what that must be like. All alone in the house, and he must have been aware it was coming on. It must be like a migraine or a—I don’t know—like something happening to you that you can’t control. So frightening.” Sophie turned the photos in her hand over. “There are dates on the back.”

“I know. All within the same month. But there’s an exclamation point on one of them—October tenth. Somehow that date must have been very significant.”

“What do you think it means?”

Lucky shook her head. “No idea. But it must mean something. Maybe there was something in the news on that date that sparked my mom’s interest?”

“Hey, let’s boot up your computer. Let’s search that date. Maybe it is significant in some way. We would have been . . . what? Twenty-four, twenty-five then. I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t paying much attention to what went on in town.”

“Me neither. I was a couple of years out of college and still living in Madison. I didn’t even make trips home that often.” Lucky walked across the room to the small desk where her computer sat. She clicked it on, and a few seconds later the screen came to life. She sat down in the desk chair. “Hey, why don’t you grab the stool that’s in the kitchen so we can do this together.”

Sophie dashed to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a wooden stool. She moved closer to Lucky and watched as Lucky typed the date into her search engine. Immediately a link popped up offering popular stories of the
Lincoln Falls Sentinel
. Lucky clicked the mouse and scrolled through the highlights.

“Here’s what we have: ‘Court Adds Case to Census Review,’ ‘Signs of Hope Seen in Diplomatic Deal’ . . .” She continued to read aloud the major international and national stories run by the newspaper.

“Nothing criminal?”

“Not that I can see. But that’s only Lincoln Falls. And stories of state or national interest come from wire services, don’t they? Maybe we should try farther afield. A larger city . . . maybe Boston or New York?”

“Okay, give it a shot. Their archives might be better.” Sophie waited patiently while Lucky scrolled down the list of links. “Here we go . . . ‘Deputies Crack Alleged Theft Ring.’ ‘Man Killed Wife with Friend’s Help.’ Lovely!” Sophie commented. “Oh, look,” she said, pointing to the screen. ‘Police Bust Drug Ring.’ Maybe Leonard is a crook? Maybe Agnes was selling drugs?”

Lucky shook her head. “Can’t really see that. But who knows? Truth is often stranger than fiction.” She finished scrolling down the links to the stories in the newspaper. “October tenth could mean anything. Maybe my mother wrote it down because she heard a news story on the radio. Maybe she made a note of it because it wasn’t in the local or national news.”