The Wedding Caper (21 page)

“Devin—”

“Okay,
okay.” He sprinted from the room, chicken leg still in-hand. I looked at Warren
once more and asked the inevitable question, though I could have guessed his
answer.

“Ready
for some ice cream?”

“Mm-hmm.
A nice, big bowl.”

I sprang
from his lap and headed toward the freezer. “Of course.”

He
followed directly behind me and pinched me on my backside as he answered,
“Well, get to it, then.”

“Hey,
you,” I sputtered. “Watch that.”

“I am.”
He winked as he examined my ever-widening rear end.

I turned
away as I felt a blush coming on, but couldn’t hide for long. The man of my
dreams stepped right alongside me as I filled our bowls with the familiar gooey
delight. He talked incessantly. In fact, I couldn’t remember when I’d ever
heard him open up and share so freely. At one point, he took me into his arms
and planted a tender kiss on my forehead. I responded by pressing a bowl of
Moo-
lenium
Crunch into his waiting hands.

Who cared
if our waistbands expanded a little? We had each other and we had the truth.
What else did we need?

Chapter Twenty-One

“What do you
think?” I asked Warren bright and early Wednesday morning. “Should I finish my
Internet courses or just forget the whole thing?”

“Are you
kidding?” He gave me an incredulous look. “I paid $150.00 for those courses.
You’re finishing them.”

“Aye
aye
,
Cap’n
.” I offered him a
salute then headed off to the office to face the computer head-on.

If I had
to be completely honest with myself, I’d say all of this e-knowledge really
wasn’t doing me much good. Most of the things I’d learned, investigation-wise,
had either come as a direct result of my own failures or through some
miraculous intervention of the Lord.

Still, if
He could speak through a donkey, as He’d done in Old Testament days, surely He
could teach me a thing or two through the World Wide Web.

If
I could get through my stack of e-mails to find the current lesson, that was.
I fended off nearly a dozen forwards
then breezed through
an e
-mail from a client,
requesting a bid on a new editing project. I responded with a low bid, probably
feeling generous because of the happy circumstances of the past twenty-four
hours. Hopefully, I wouldn’t regret it later.

I read
one letter from my mother in Mississippi, a funny note about floral arranging
from Nadine in Savannah, and a couple of prayer requests from Linda Jones, the
head of our “E-Prayer Chain” at church. I stopped cold when I got to the one
about Judy Blevins. Apparently she had taken a turn for the worse in the night.
The doctors didn’t give her much longer. I should go up there and visit her.
As soon as possible.
In my mind’s eye, I could almost see
her dancing now.

I paused
to pray right on the spot. No point in beating around the bush. I poured out my
heart, asked the Almighty for His perfect Will in the matter. I prayed for her
healing, yes, but I also prayed that the Lord would have his way in all of
this. And I prayed for Richard, as I’d never prayed before. Regardless of the
outcome, he would need God’s strength. Finally, a sense of peace washed over
me. I rested easy in the fact that God remained in control.

My prayer
time put me in the right mindset to read my devotional, which I did next.

I opened
the Web site to find one of my all-time favorite scriptures from Isaiah, chapter
one: “Come now, let us reason together,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are
like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.”

These
words had always struck me as a little unusual. I knew what it meant to have my
sins forgiven, but what did it mean to reason with God? When Warren and I
“reasoned” things out, an argument usually ensued. Was I supposed to argue with
the King of creation?
Surely not.

Instead
of chewing on the words, I took the matter straight to the One who would know
the answer. I asked Him. I put it out there, much as a child would put out a
request before a parent. In short, I spent time with Him. Seemed like I’d been
doing a lot of that lately, but then again, I had a lot of things to “reason
out.”

At this
point, I sought the Lord regarding my thought life, and asked for forgiveness
for the little things I’d let creep in, until now unnoticed. Then I asked for
His thoughts to be my thoughts, something I didn’t recall ever asking for before.

I would
need His way of thinking, if I were to pursue this investigation one step
further. I didn’t want to waste a moment on any more vain imaginations.

After
spending some time with the Lord, I turned my attentions to the latest lesson
from www.investigativeskills.com. To my great delight, the title of Lesson
Eight resonated with me. I almost laughed aloud when I read the words: A GOOD
INVESTIGATOR EMPLOYS CRITICAL THINKING SKILLS.

Well, if
that didn’t beat all.

The
lesson went on to explain the difference between everyday thinking and critical
thinking. It discussed the various dimensions of proper reasoning: everything
from avoiding oversimplification (Yep, I’ve been guilty of that) to thoroughly
evaluating all available criteria (Haven’t done enough of that).

I must’ve
ooh’d
and
aah’d
a bit as
Warren passed by the door, because he entered the office with a look of
intrigue on his face.

“Learning
a lot?”

“Yes,
actually. I think this is the most fascinating one yet.” I pointed to the
screen. “See all this stuff about situation comparison and argument analysis?
I’ve never heard of any of this before. It’s a whole new way for me to approach
the investigation, and life in general, for that matter.”

“Sounds
vaguely familiar.” He rubbed at his chin as he continued to read the screen. “I
think I remember learning some of this in my philosophy class back in college.
This kind of stuff hurts my brain.”

“No
kidding,” I admitted. “It’s all a little deep for me, too, but I guess that’s
the point, to go deeper.
To analyze.
To explore all of
the options reasonably, right?” A chuckle escaped the back of my throat as
reality hit. “I’m already wide. I might as well be deep, too.” We both broke
into a rousing rendition of the children’s song, “Deep and Wide,” laughter
eventually filling the room.

Afterwards,
Warren leaned down kissed me on my forehead. “I’m all for exploring options,”
he said, “but right now the only option I’m exploring is the one that says I’m
going to lose my job if I show up late.”

I glanced
at my watch and gasped when I saw the time. “You’re never late.”

“I know,”
his eyebrows elevated mischievously, “But someone kept me up until the wee
hours last night.”

I felt my
cheeks warm and
shoo’d
him away. “Better get a move
on.” I blew the fellow of my dreams a kiss as he left the room, then, with a
song in my heart, turned back to the computer, deep in thought. Pun intended.

 With
all of this information in hand, I forged ahead with the investigation. I
couldn’t rest on my laurels, after all. By process of elimination, I’d rid
myself of two suspects over the past twenty-four hours. Of the ones that
remained, I’d have to say Nikki raised the most questions in my mind. Yes, if I
really analyzed the situation, I’d have to say that something about her just didn’t
feel right to me.

I took
the time to analyze the situation in its entirety. For the first time ever, it
struck me that no money had disappeared beyond the initial $25,000. I was also
stumped by the idea that no other businesses in our area had been affected.
Those two things certainly gave me reason to suspect an insider like Nikki all
the more.

But, why
stop at $25,000? If she really had a thirst for expensive things, wouldn’t she
continue on in her question to obtain more?

I’d just
leaned back in the chair to rest when the phone rang. I answered it right away,
once I saw the caller ID.

 “Annie,”
Warren’s voice sounded hushed, strained. “I’ve got another clue to add to your
list.” Mental note: Exonerated husband links arms with super-sleuthing wife to
solve the crime of the century. Details to follow.

I
responded with a “Really?” almost afraid to hear what he had to say.
My poor husband.
I’d pulled him into this investigation,
whether he wanted to be involved or not. “What’s happening?”

 “I know
you’re not going to believe this,” Warren whispered, “but the police are here
again, questioning Nikki Rogers.”

“No way.”
My heart thump-thumped against my chest wall.

“Has to
be more than a coincidence, don’t you think?” Warren asked, intrigue lacing his
voice.

“Mm-hmm.”
A thousand thoughts ran through my mind at once, not the least of which was the
car Nikki had just purchased. Maybe the guys from the sheriff’s office were on
to her, at last. Maybe they wanted to confront her with new evidence.

I lowered
my voice. “Keep me posted.”

“Why are
you whispering, Annie?”

“I don’t
know. I mean—” I raised my voice, “I don’t know.”

We hung
up and I tried to return to the lesson, but found it difficult, what with these
heavy-duty thoughts filling every corner of my head like they did. I did pause
as I read something quite profound: “A conclusion is simply the place where you
got tired of thinking.” Wow. Deep stuff.
And how true.
I prayed I would never get tired of thinking.

I read on
through the lesson, amazed to see some suggestions for how to increase critical
thinking skills. “Crossword puzzles? Who
woulda
thunk
it? And game-playing?”

Yes, lo
and behold, if
game-playing
didn’t top the list.

Games? I
loved games.

Within
minutes I’d put together a plan for a game night, to provide myself an
opportunity to increase my critical thinking skills.
The
sooner, the better.

I opened
my calendar and glanced through it. Tomorrow night would work just fine. Warren
and the kids could join me and maybe I’d ask someone else, as well.

Nikki
Rogers.

Yes,
surely Nikki would be great at
game-playing
. Unless my
imagination had gotten the better of me, I’d have to say she’d been playing a
few already.
Like “Hide ‘n Seek” from the Clark County
Sheriff’s Office.
And “Truth or Dare” with the fine
folks of
Clarksborough
.

Funny,
every time I thought of Nikki, especially in that security guard uniform,
an uneasiness
fell over me. What is it, Lord? Is this the
one, or have I completely misjudged her? Inviting her to the house would give
me an opportunity to see her out of uniform, to watch her in a more comfortable
environment.

Yes, we’d
have her over for dinner and games. I’d suggest she bring her daughter along,
as well. Might be fun for all of us to get to know one another. That way, if my
suspicions were wrong, we’d have an opportunity to reach out to them both.

I waited
about half an hour to give the police time to question Nikki. Then, I
telephoned the bank and asked to speak to her.

“H–Hello?”
Her quivering voice let me know she hadn’t quite recovered from her visit with
sheriff’s deputies.

“Nikki.
Annie Peterson, here.”

“Oh,
Annie.” She suddenly became awash of emotion. “I’m so glad you called. What an
awesome coincidence. I need prayer. I really do.”

So I see.

“What’s
up?” I almost felt like a traitor asking the question, but didn’t really have
the information in full, anyway.

She
sighed. “It’s awful. Those guys from the sheriff’s office wanted to question me
about my whereabouts on the night of the crime. Can you believe that? They didn’t
come out and call me a suspect or anything, but they questioned me like one.”

“What did
you tell them?”

“I told
them I’d spent the night out-of-town, at my mother’s place in Lancaster, but
they didn’t believe me.”

“You
should give them your mother’s number,” I suggested. “That way they can call
and ask her, themselves.”

“I did,”
she sniffled, “And they called her right after. But that didn’t really solve
anything. My mom and stepdad had gone away for a couple of days for her
birthday,” she explained.

“Ah.”
Likely story.

“She
wanted me to drive out to Lancaster to puppy-sit her poodle while they were
away. But I should’ve just stayed put in my own place.” Nikki broke down again.
“Everything about it was a mistake. I had to get up super-early the next morning
to get back to
Clarksborough
. Amber was late for
school, and I was about five minutes late getting to the bank.”

“You were
late for work?”
Another new piece of evidence.

“Well,
just a few minutes,” she explained. “But I’m not the only one with the key.
Warren and Richard were already here. We just hadn’t opened for customers yet.
I explained that to the deputies, but they acted like they didn’t believe me.”
Here she lowered her voice. “Why would they suspect me, of all people? I’m a
single mom, not a bank robber.”

Burglar.
And if you really were a security guard, you’d know the difference.

“I never
took a thing that didn’t belong to me,” she went on. “Never.”

“Well,
maybe I can offer you a little diversion,” I interrupted. I went on to extend a
dinner and game-playing invitation—for Nikki and her daughter. Nikki
sounded a little surprised to receive the offer, but accepted at once.

“You’re
so sweet,” she gushed. “No one has offered us an invitation like this since we
moved to
Clarksborough
. Thank you so much for
thinking of us.”

A wave of
guilt washed through me. I’m thinking of you more than you know. “We’re happy
to have you.”