Murder at the Azalea Festival (21 page)

Tiffany hung her head. "I did say it but I didn't mean it. It's just something you say, like, 'Oh, I'd like to wring your neck.' But saying it and doing it are too different things. Mindy was always so ugly to me. At first I tried hard to be her friend, but she wouldn't have it. She thought she was too good for me because of my African-American blood, and she's from one of Wilmington's founding families."

"That's not true," I said. "That's something the Chestertons have told people for so long they probably believe it themselves. The first Nehemiah Chesterton was a carpetbagger, according to Binkie, and he ought to know. He was a greedy opportunist who took advantage of the South's defeat and the loss of so many of our men-folk to grab a shipyard right out of a poor widow's hands.

"According to Binkie, the first Nehemiah Chesterton was in direct competition with your ancestor Caesar Talliere for steam ship building contracts. Gus told me that the finding of Caesar's schooner and his bones confirmed what he had always believed--that the first Chesterton killed the first Talliere. All that violence led to more violence; the sins of the father visited on the sons, like that."

I gave Nick a level look. "I figured out something while I was floating in the lagoon, when the alligator snapped at my foot. It was the alligator that mutilated those corpses that washed up at Fort Fisher. Gus was responsible for their deaths.

"Nem and Janet have been trying to locate their sons. The brothers were supposed to have left with their cousin for a drive to Boulder. I don't think they ever left Wilmington. I think if you compare the DNA of Nem and Janet to the tissue samples you have from those corpses, you will find they are Hugh and Nem the Fourth, and their cousin."

Tiffany let out a long wail and fell back. Hearing just how evil her half-brother had been was too much for her.

Jon gathered her in his arms. "I'm taking you upstairs and putting you to bed."

He looked at me over her head. "Have you got something to help her sleep?"

"There are sleeping pills in the bathroom," I said.

We said goodnight and watched them mount the stairs. If I knew Jon, he'd sit up with her for most of the night.

Nick and I returned to the library and cuddled on the sofa. I borrowed his warmth and his strength.

"I'm sorry, baby, my world can get so ugly."

"It's my world too, Nick, don't shut me out. We've got to rise above this, to take our happiness where we find it."

"You're right. And I think it's time for you and me to claim our happiness together."

I kissed him on the cheek. "I'm all for that. But, Nick, we have to decide where we're going to live, who will be the one to move."

"I know how you feel about Wilmington, Ashley, how you love your home. I could be very happy living here in this house with you. The truth is I didn't much care for Atlanta--too big. And I missed my buddies on the force. Well, it seems I was missed too. They want me back. They've offered me the job of liaison between Wilmington PD and Homeland Security. It'll mean some overnight trips to D.C., but other than that, this will be home base.

"So, Ashley darling, this is a proposal. Will you marry me?"

32

On the first Saturday in May our wedding party assembled on Wrightsville Beach. The wedding and the reception, and an ocean-view cottage for a two-week honeymoon were Melanie's gifts to us. With multi-level decks and a long boardwalk that skimmed the dunes, the house wasn't exactly what I'd call a cottage, but that's the way they do things in the high-end real estate business. The "beach cottage" had four bedrooms, four bathrooms, a high-tech kitchen where Elaine McDuff and her crew were preparing the reception dinner, and a spacious greatroom with a wood-burning fireplace for cool nights.

"This place is heavenly," I told Melanie as she made last-minute adjustments to my gown. I'd lost enough weight so that I fit into Mama's wedding gown, and it was beautiful with a train that would trail behind me over the white runner that had been rolled across the strand.

We hugged and kissed and I thanked her again for making all the wedding preparations. "I was thrilled to do it," she said. "You know I'm good at organizing events, although I've never planned a wedding before."

"I'm wondering when you'll be planning yours," I said, as she arranged the veil over my face.

"Oh, shug, who knows? Don't worry about it. I'm happy with my life the way it is." She grinned wickedly. "I like playing the field. The grass is always greener, and all that. Marriage would cramp my style."

"That's just what I'm worried about, Mel, will it cramp my style? I've lived alone for a couple of years now. I'm used to doing things my own way."

"I just want you to be happy, baby sister. Nick's a great guy and he loves you. Why, he wrestled an alligator for you, for pity sakes."

My nervous laughter erupted like a hoot. "Tell me something, sister mine, are you sleeping with Mickey Ballantine? Nick says he's bad news."

Melanie acted outraged. "Who, me? Sleep with two men at the same time?"

I stared at her.

She giggled. "No, I'm not sleeping with Mickey Ballantine. But . . ." and she held up a finger, "I can't promise you I never will."

"Oh, Melanie."

She grinned. "Oh, Ashley."

"By the way, Nem Chesterton withdrew from the race. Did you hear that?" I asked her.

"I did. He's lost his children, the poor man. I suspect he's ruined. Now I want you to forget all about that stuff. This is your day, yours and Nick's and I've worked too hard for you to spoil it with thoughts of homicide and family feuds. Now, come on," she said, "let's go downstairs before Binkie wears a hole in the greatroom carpet."

I must have floated down the stairs because I couldn't feel the treads under my feet. Binkie, who was giving me away, paced the floor like he might indeed wear out the carpeting.

He gasped when he saw me, and tears shone in his eyes. "Oh! Ashley dear, you're beautiful."

"It's Mama's dress," I said shyly. I wasn't used to being the center of attention. "I'm nervous," I confided.

Behind me, Melanie said, "She'll be fine."

Binkie said, "I happen to know that Nick is a nervous wreck, and Jon, his best man, isn't much better." He offered me his arm. "Shall we go out now, Ashley dear, and settle their nerves?"

"Yes," I replied.

Melanie led our procession across the boardwalk and over the dunes, looking elegant in a pale blue gown. Watching her step daintily onto the white runner, my heart overflowed with love for my older sister who, when the chips were down, was always there for me.

Guests turned in their folding chairs to watch Melanie march slowly and rhythmically toward the ocean as a recording of Pachelbel's Canon played.

A white canopy had been erected midway down the beach, and the tails of gigantic white bows fluttered in the ocean breeze as playfully as the tails of a child's kite. Huge white baskets held mounds of white hydrangeas, and they were banked at the edges of the white carpet that covered the sand under the canopy.

The sun was setting, casting red and gold rays over the scene and tinting white foam to pink. In the east, the horizon had deepened from bright blue to indigo.

When the music switched from Pachelbel to Lohengrin, people rose up out of their chairs, ooohing and aaaahing. Binkie said in my ear, "Ready?"

I whispered yes and we started down the aisle that was formed by Nick's friends and mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tiffany. She'd lost everything, her family home, her brother. All she had left of the Talliere legacy was Caesar's journal, and she was giving that to the North Carolina Room at the library. And now that she had the leading role on Dolphin's Cove, she was making plans to build a house on the Talliere land. The gardens had not been harmed.

I saw Cameron, friends from the historical society, and preservation friends. Everyone was beaming at me, and I could see from their hopeful expressions that they were wishing me happiness.

Then I caught sight of Nick, waiting expectantly under the canopy, and the corners of my mouth turned up in a great big goofy smile.

We reached the first row and there was Mama, so sweet in her pink dress, crying softly. I knew she was missing Daddy, for I was missing him terribly. Aunt Ruby, sitting next to Mama, blew me a kiss, and before I knew it I was swept along to Nick's side and we were standing together, facing the minister.

Father Andrew intoned the familiar, "Dearly beloved . . .” but the words flowed over me, swallowed up by the resounding surge of the ocean, ebbing gently at the shore.

If Daddy is watching me from heaven, I thought, I know he's giving me his blessing. I know he is happy that I've found a good man to love, someone who will cherish me and protect me as he always did.

I felt Binkie step back to take a seat next to Aunt Ruby, the woman he had loved since childhood.

And then Jon was handing Nick the rings, and he too moved out of my range of vision. There was only Nick and I, Father Andrew, and beyond him, the vast and everlasting Atlantic.

Nick turned to face me, to look deeply into my eyes, as he repeated his vows, faithfully promising to love, honor, and cherish me for all the days of our lives.

Then it was my turn, and as my gaze rested on Nick's wonderful face, his loving hazel eyes, I repeated after Father Andrew:

"I, Ashley Wilkes, take you Nicholas Yost to be my wedded husband. And I do promise and covenant, before God and these witnesses . . .”

I felt a great rush of joy deep in my soul.

". . . to be your loving and faithful wife, in plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health, and I do promise to refrain from meddling in your homicide cases, for as long as we both shall live."

I heard light laughter, then realized with a start what I'd just promised to do. I laughed too, but I was thinking, Nick, you little devil, you got the minister to insert those words.

Nick's gorgeous eyes twinkled and he dimpled, and I melted. Silently, I prayed I'd always melt when he looked at me that way.

I turned to the minister and asked, "May I kiss the groom."

"You may," he said, grinning with amusement.

And so I did.

###

MURDER AT WRIGHTSVILLE BEACH

With temperatures in the nineties, Ashley Wilkes, historic preservationist, heads for Wrightsville Beach where sister Melanie has rented an oceanfront sleeps-14 "cottage." But murder never takes a vacation and as the body count escalates, Ashley realizes there is more to beach life than sunblock and fried fish platters. With houseguests and neighbors all behaving suspiciously, Ashley's tempted to retreat back to town where she's restoring a 1920s Georgian Revival house, yet even the restoration site is fraught with danger. And nothing prepares Ashley for a moonlight stroll out on the pier with a crazed killer.

Available at
www.amazon.com/kindle