The Wedding Caper (22 page)

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Authors: Janice Thompson

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Contemporary

BOOK: The Wedding Caper
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“Would
you like me to bring anything?” she asked.

“Nope.
Just bring yourself and Amber. And come prepared to have good food and a good
time.”

I could
hear the excitement in her voice and felt a little bad.
For a
moment.
When I remembered her new sports car, the private school tuition
and today’s visit from Clark County Sheriff’s deputies, my seared conscience
eased up a little.

We ended
the conversation on a happy note. As I hung up, I reasoned things
out—with
myself and the Lord
. That’s what great
investigators did, after all.

What
would it hurt, really, to have Nikki over for a few games? If she turned out to
be the perpetrator, my critical thinking skills would surely reveal it. If not,
perhaps we’d end up being great friends.

I rubbed
at my head, my brain now hurting from all of the thinking I’d done. The melody
to “Deep and Wide” played through my mind once more and eventually worked its
way down to my lips.

Somewhere
between the ice cream and the Internet lessons, I’d managed to move out in both
directions at once.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

The following
evening, just two hours after I arrived home from visiting Judy Blevins, my
guests began to arrive. Candy and Garrett were the first in the door. My
daughter proudly handed me a scrumptious-looking cheesecake. “I baked it
myself.”

“Wow.”
I’d been married twenty-seven years and still hadn’t conquered the art of
baking a “real” cheesecake.
The kind from a box, sure.
But the real McCoy?

I gave my
daughter an admiring whistle. “You go, girl.” That Garrett was going to be one
lucky fellow.

Brandi and
Scott came in next. She opened a bag from our local Super Center and pulled out
a variety of things: French bread (to go with my homemade lasagna), lettuce,
cucumbers, tomatoes, baby carrots, a red onion and a head of broccoli.


Mmm
.” Looked great. We went to work, piecing together the
most colorful salad in town.

At 7:00
sharp, the doorbell rang and I answered it with a smile.

“Welcome!”
I let out an “
Ooo
” as my gaze fell on Nikki in a
lovely deep red sweater and trendy jeans. That security guard outfit did her no
justice at all. She was quite a beauty. She’d pulled her hair back in a
ponytail and looked considerably younger. To be honest, it took a moment to
register. She was probably no older than my own daughters. Somehow, that put a
whole new spin on things.

“Good
evening, Annie!” Nikki handed me a plateful of brownies, which I accepted with
a smile.

“You
didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”
The edges of her lips curled up in a playful grin. “But I wanted to. And Amber
helped me bake them. She loves working with me in the kitchen.”

For the
first time, I glanced down at the youngster to her right. A precious child with
blonde curls and eyes bluer than my Dutch china stared up at me.

“You like
helping your mom?” I asked.

Amber
nodded,
then
shifted her focus to the ground.

“She’s a
little shy,” Nikki explained.

“Well,
come on in, ladies. Didn’t mean to leave you standing out in the cold.” I
ushered them into the house, then reached to close the door. As I did so, my
gaze fell on the car in the driveway.

The car.

Yep,
the one and only “Sports Car Extraordinaire,” to be precise.
Sitting right there, in my driveway. I
must’ve paused a bit too long, because Nikki interrupted my thoughts.

“Oh,” She
glanced out the door alongside me. “Do you like my car? I just bought it.”

“It’s
very nice.” I gave it another once-over before shutting the door. I’d imagine a
burglar could make a clean get-away in a car like that.

“Remind
me later,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “and I’ll tell you how I got it.
It’s a miracle, really.”

Yep.
A $20,000 miracle, in fact.

Nikki and
Amber followed on my heels to the kitchen, where I introduced her to my girls.
My daughters, who had never known a stranger, took to her right away. Their
conversations, as always, layered one on top of the other.

Less than
five minutes later, I called everyone to the table. I’m not one to be prideful
about such things, but we had quite a spread: two kinds of lasagna, a huge
salad and mozzarella-filled French bread. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.

“Wow.”
Warren looked over the beautiful feast the girls and I had prepared. “Looks
amazing, Annie.”

“Thank
you.” I reached up to give him a peck on the cheek, and noticed Nikki’s gaze
follow me. What’s up with that?

We took
our places and Warren offered to pray over the food. As was our custom, we each
reached out to grab the hand of the person on either side of us. Amber sat
directly to my right. I took her little fist in my own and gave it a tender
squeeze. She looked up at me with a bashful smile, jumbo-jet-length eyelashes
batting over those saucer-wide blue eyes.

Warren
prayed a deep, heartfelt prayer, and then the chaos began.

Let’s
just say I’ve never seen so much food consumed in such short order. And with so
many of us gathered around the table, the conversation rose to a near-dangerous
decibel level. But no one seemed to mind. In fact, the smiles on every face let
me know
a good time was being had by all
.

I glanced
at Nikki several times along the way. Truly, she beamed. The young mother
seemed in her element, a fact that surprised me a little. I’m not sure what I’d
expected—for her to be uncomfortable in a ‘normal’ family setting,
perhaps?

No, there
she sat, chattering away about everything from fashion to food to the upcoming
Get Out to Vote rally.

Floored
me.

After
swallowing down more food than should have been allowed by law
,
we cleared the table and pulled out several games. I’d deliberately chosen to
start with Clue, a personal favorite.

I opted
for Mrs. Peacock. Warren took Colonel Mustard. And Nikki, who played with an
inquisitive Amber at her side, chose Miss Scarlet.

You would
pick her, wouldn’t you?

Brandi,
Candy, and Scott dove in as well, settling for Mrs. White, Professor Plum, and
Mr. Green, respectively. Devin and Garret opted not to play, choosing instead
to watch the sports channel on TV.

Not that
any of our lovebirds were really focused on the game.

You know,
I’ve noticed a lot of kissing goes on when you have two
engaged
couples in the house. Truly, at least a half dozen times during the game I
looked up to find Brandi and Scott smooching or Candy and Garret making goo-goo
eyes across the room at one another.

I also
noticed Nikki’s reaction. I just thought I’d seen her nervous back at the bank.
Her reaction to all of this romance let me know she carried some heavy-duty
issues where men were concerned. Heavy-duty.

What
secrets aren’t you telling, girlie?

We played
on and on, interrupting each other every now and again to tell a funny story or
nibble on cheesecake.

At one
point, the game nearly slowed to a halt. Clearly frustrated, Brandi popped out
with something funny. “Scott, if you don’t hurry up and make a move, I’m going
to think you’re the suspect.”

We all
laughed, but at the same time a chill gripped me. If only my daughters knew a
potential burglar sat at our very table, they might not find the comment so
funny.

 “Give
me a minute. I’m thinking.” Scott’s knotted brow left nothing to the
imagination.

“That
explains the look of pain on your face,” Devin hollered out from across the room.

We all
laughed again, but Scott had the last laugh. He won the game, fair and square.
Mrs. Peacock.
In the library.
With
the wrench.

Bingo.

“See,” he
bragged. “Told you I was thinking.” Truly, my future son-in-law took his
game-playing quite seriously.

Shortly
thereafter, we settled down in the living room with cups of hot coffee in our
hands. Amber’s cup contained cocoa, topped with a couple of big marshmallows.
After a bit of
chit-chat
, the room filled with a
delicious silence.

To my
surprise, Nikki was the one who broke it. “You know,” she said, “I remember
nights like this when I was a kid. My mom and my uncle would teach my brother
and me how to play cards or some board game, and then we’d all drink hot
chocolate after.” Here she paused and her expression changed. “Of course, my
dad was never there. He was—” Her voice kind of drifted away.

“I’m
sorry, honey.” I reached over to pat her hand.

As I did,
the voice of the Holy Spirit filled my ear and near-sent my heart into knots.
She’s just a girl, Annie.
A girl who never had a father.
Point her toward her real Father and leave the rest to me.

Ouch.

My Bible
verse bounced around between my ears again. “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.”

A
reminder, perhaps, that Nikki Rogers was no different than any of the rest of
us? That she and my girls shared the same hopes and dreams? That her sins,
whatever they were, were no greater than any of ours?

I thought
back to the missing $25,000 and tried to remain focused on my job as an
investigator. Sitting next to me was a prime suspect, possibly the suspect.

As I
stared at the lovely young woman who now giggled at one of Devin’s goofy jokes,
the Lord spoke the same words to my heart again: She’s just a girl in need of a
Father.

I let my
gaze shift to the little girl who sat beside her. Amber.
Another
fatherless child.
For whatever reason, my heart suddenly grew quite
heavy.

I stared
across the room at Warren, who also laughed at his son’s joke, his face alight
with merriment. Thank You, Lord. My children are so blessed. Oh, if only it
could be so for every child.

I thought
of Jake, a young man in search of a father’s love.

My thoughts
shifted to Nikki, a woman angry because of a dead-beat dad.

I
reflected on Amber, a child who—unless God intervened—would never
know the warmth of a daddy’s arms.

And, with
today’s visit to the hospital still fresh on my mind, I was reminded of Judy
Blevins, who would soon dance into her Father’s arms, a smile as broad as the
Atlantic on her face.

The image
was too much to take. I had to excuse myself to the restroom.

Seemed
like I’d been spending a lot of time in bathrooms lately. But this time, I
didn’t cry. No, by the time I arrived, I’d managed to push back the emotion and
focus on the one thing that would lift my spirits, not cause me to crater, as I
had so many times in the past.

I
reasoned things out with the Almighty. In short, I gave Him a piece of my mind.
And, in exchange, He gave me a piece of His.

I saw in
a flash His broken-heartedness over those who’d been betrayed, and His desire
to see them restored. I took note of his love for the single mothers and their
children. And I marveled at His unbelievable mercy for all of the dads who’d
strayed far from His plan for their lives.

More than
anything, though, I saw His desire to see all of us come to know Him in the way
that Judy had. At this point, the Lord gave me a clear resolve to reach out to
Nikki Rogers—even if she had taken the $25,000—and point her in the
right direction. He encouraged me to continue on in my quest to pinpoint the
thief. And He challenged me to spend more time reasoning things out with Him.

Go ahead
and dish it out, Annie Peterson, I’m pretty sure I heard Him say. I’m a big
God. I can take it.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

I was awakened
on the morning of the Get Out to Vote rally by a phone call. I’d known all along
it would come, but the news still came as a shock, nonetheless.

Apparently,
in the middle of the night, sometime around 3:00 a.m., Judy Blevins had danced
her way into the arms of her heavenly Father, just as she’d told me she would.

Though
I’d expected it, I still found myself awestruck by the reality. The image of a
little girl spinning across the living room filled my mind. Twirling skirts,
childlike voice
raised
in glee, I could envision it
all. Oh, Father! Is that what she’s doing right now, at this very moment?

My heart
sang for her. But at the same time, it broke for Richard. The poor man had
already lost so much. How would he make it through this, as well?

One thing
was certain. He would need his church family. We would draw close to him and offer
love and support in every conceivable way. This much, I knew to be true. And I
prayed he would respond by returning—in his own time, of course—to
our midst.

I woke
Warren up to give him the news. He sat up in the bed and raked his fingers
through messy hair, taking it in. His response startled me.

“I didn’t
think it would really happen,” he whispered.

I didn’t
tell him I’d known all along it would. Instead, I just settled into his embrace
as he reached out for me. We leaned against one another in the bed, and I let
him do the talking.

“Annie, I
don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost you.” His voice broke, which caused a
lump to rise in my throat.

Wow. He’d
spent some time thinking about this.

“I feel the
same way,” I whispered. “But I know God would get us through it. And I know
He’ll walk Richard through it, too.”

“What can
we do for him?” Warren looked at me. “He doesn’t seem to want help from
anyone.”

“Maybe
that will change now,” I offered. “Maybe this is the best time to reach out to
him. He’s got no children, no relatives living nearby. He’s going to need the
people at the church more than ever. And if we’re there for him, regardless of
his absence over the past few weeks, he’ll have to see how much we love him.”
Here I paused. “And how much we loved Judy.”

“Right.”

We sat in
silence for a few minutes, each of us lost in thought. I finally rose from the
bed, knowing the day would not wait on me.

“I wish
we could just cancel this rally,” I said. “My heart’s just not in it now.”

“Oh, I
don’t know.” Warren loosened his embrace and then rose from the bed. “Judy was
so patriotic. She loved the Get Out to Vote rallies. Probably more than any of
us.”

“You’re
right,” I said with a smile. “I’d forgotten. She was the one who always took
the stage and led us in the national anthem. And she would want us to be there
today, with bells on.”

We
dressed, albeit slower than usual, for the annual event. Warren chose a deep
red sweater over jeans and I donned a bright red shirt, with a navy blazer,
coupled with jeans. For effect, I wore a white belt.

The rally
started at noon in the Clark County Park. Warren and I arrived early to help
set up. Even at such an hour people were arriving in swarms in their red, white
and blue hats; flags, like kites, waved in the breeze and children ran amuck.

I rubbed
away the chill on my arms with outstretched palms. “When did it get so cold
out?” I pulled a white wool scarf tighter around my neck, all the while
wondering if the temperature had really dropped, or if the news about Judy had
left a permanent chill.

Warren
headed off to the platform area, where he would soon open the event in prayer.
I looked around at all of our friends and loved ones, and my heart swelled. In
spite of so many in
attendance
, it just wouldn’t be
the same without Judy and Richard here. They’d always played such a critical
role in the event.

The smell
of barbecue filled the air. I looked across the picnic area to find
Janetta
Mullins and her family hard at work, preparing food
for the masses. She wore a white chef’s hat with an American flag on the band,
and the sunlight picked up the sparkles in her white and silver sweater. I made
my way through the crowd over to her. Though I hated to think about the investigation
today, of all days, I knew I should probably try to get to the bottom of the
cash deposit issue.
If I could.

“Hi,
Mullins family,” I said with a smile. “How are you doing today?”

Jake
looked up with a smile. “Busy, but good.”

“Here,
try a piece of this, Annie.”
Janetta
handed me a tiny
piece of brisket, which I promptly popped in my mouth.

“Man,
that’s good.” I licked the sauce from my fingers and looked over at her with an
admiring smile. “Is there anything you
Mullinses
can’t do?”

“Well,
we’re not very good at getting our mom married off,” Kristina offered.

For some
reason, that got all of us laughing. Well, all but
Janetta
,
who swatted at the air with the back of her hand.

“I’m the
last person on God’s green earth who wants a man in her life, trust me. And I’m
so old and set in my ways, I wouldn’t even know what to do with a man if I had
one anyway.”

I had to
laugh aloud. “Girl, I’m sure you’d figure it out.”

Jake
shook his head and his gaze shifted back to the barbecue pit. Is he
embarrassed?

Sheila walked
up, her face more serious than usual. She took me by the arm and whispered,
“Did you hear about Judy?”

I nodded
and turned to face her. “I did. Has anyone talked to Richard?”

She shook
her head. “Orin tried, but Richard didn’t answer his cell. I’m just worried
because I know he doesn’t have family nearby. I think maybe Judy has a sister
in Pittsburgh, but I don’t know how close they were.”

“Are you
talking about Richard Blevins?” Jake looked over, wide-eyed.

“Yes.”
Sheila and I echoed.

“What happened?”
The young man looked genuinely concerned.

I felt
the edges of my lips curl down as I responded. “His wife passed away in the
night.”

Janetta
very nearly dropped the metal tongs from
her hands at the news.

“Oh,
that’s awful. She was such a nice lady.”

We all
chimed in with a round of dittos.

“I’ve
really missed working with her this year at the rally,”
Janetta
added. “I always looked forward to seeing her.” She shook her head. “It’s such
a shame.”

“It is
sad,” I agreed, “But I’ve no doubt in my mind where she is right now.” I went
on to tell them—all of them—about Judy’s dancing story.
Janetta
Mullin,
soft-hearted
soul
that she was turning out to be, swiped away a few tears. “Well, if that doesn’t
beat all.”

Sheila
threw in a couple of stories about Judy from years gone by, and had us all
chuckling within no time. Somewhere in the midst of the laughter,
Janetta
came up with a plan.

“Here’s
what we’ll do,” she interjected, “The kids and I will go by the
Blevinses
’ house on the way home and take Richard some of
this barbecue.”

“Great
idea.” Sheila and I chimed in with a few more ideas for how we’d care for
Richard over the coming days then she headed off to locate her husband.

Jake,
who’d been pretty quiet till now, spoke up. “I think Mr. Blevins would probably
like it if I visited him, but I’d like to wait till the crowd thins a little.”

“Oh?”

He
nodded. “Yeah, he was so great to me when I was in jail. Came to see me every
day.”

If I’d
had false teeth, I would’ve dropped them. “W–What?”

“Didn’t
miss a day,” Jake said with a nod. “He came on his way to work every morning.
They even let him bring in breakfast once or twice. Donuts. He also brought a
Bible and talked to me about God.
All sorts of stuff, really.
Did you know he lost a son once?”

Janetta
joined in. “I couldn’t figure it out at
first, but he took a real interest in Jake. Said he wanted to make sure they
were treating him okay and even gave me the name of an attorney he trusted.”

“Whoa.”
In a flash, I could see it all—Richard Blevins, sitting shoulder to
shoulder with a young man who could’ve been his own son—offering counsel
and moral support.

“He was a
blessing to our whole family, actually,”
Janetta
went
on. “Really stepped in and helped when we needed it most. In fact, he’s the
reason we came back to the church.”

Okay,
that made no sense to me at all. Richard Blevins was sending people to the very
church he’d stepped away from?

Almost as
if she could read my mind,
Janetta
went on to add,
“He’ll be back soon. You watch and see. I doubt he could stay away from that
Sunday school class for long. He loves you guys so much.”

Kristina’s
face broadened in a smile. “Right. Remember that story he told us?” She went on
to share a story of something that had happened in the Sunday school classroom
years ago, something, ironically, involving Sheila.

“I
remember the day that happened,” I said with a smile. “Sheila knows how to make
people laugh, for sure. But if I recall, Richard was pretty embarrassed that
morning.”

At this
point, I felt a tiny hand slip into my own and looked down to see Amber
standing next to me. Without saying a word, her little palm spoke volumes.

“Well,
hello pretty girl.” I flashed a motherly—or would it be
grandmotherly—smile.

Her face
beamed as she looked up at me. “Hi.”

That was
the most I’d heard out of her since we’d met on Thursday night. I looked up to
see Nikki approaching with a striking woman, about my age, at her side.

“I see
she found you,” Nikki said with a smile. “All morning long we heard about you.
Mrs. Peterson this.
Mrs. Peterson that.
This daughter of mine seems to think you hung the moon.”

I felt my
cheeks warm as I responded, “I think she’s pretty special too.” Oh, if only the
little doll to my right knew I suspected her mother of stealing money from the
bank.

Nikki
took a moment to introduce me to her mother.

“Carol
Rogers.” The lovely blonde stuck out her hand and I grabbed it for a warm
handshake.

“Annie
Peterson.” I made the rounds, introducing Carol to the crowd before me. Within
minutes, everyone chattered merrily.

A
suspicious flush came over Jake’s cheeks as he glanced over at Nikki. Well,
look at that. She smiled his direction and they began to talk about the
barbecue. Carol,
Janetta
, and I chatted about the
weather and ample assortment of red, white, and blue attire on attendees. At
some point along the way, Amber took off for the swings, and we watched her
with a smile.

“Seems
like just yesterday, my girls were that age.” I sighed.

A sigh
escaped Carol’s lips. “Where does the time go?”

Janetta
chuckled. “Well, if either of you figure
it out, let me know. I’d like to reverse the clock, for sure. Nobody ever told
me my body was going to take on a mind of its own when I turned fifty.”

We all
erupted in laughter and Sheila’s “menopause antennae” must’ve gone off from
across the park because she appeared at my side in mere seconds. We introduced
her to Carol, and before you knew it, Sheila was on a roll.

“I have a
hot flash for you,” she said with a grin. “Menopause is cool.”

Janetta
, who’d taken to fanning herself with the
Get Out to Vote program in hand, shook her head in disagreement. “That one’s
going to be a hard sell.”

“No,
really,” Sheila explained. “When you’re going through menopause, you can eat
all the chocolate you want, and no one questions you.”

“You can
put on a few pounds,” I interjected, “and folks hardly notice.”

“Yeah,
but what about the bad stuff?”
Janetta
queried. “I
saw this great infomercial for wrinkle cream—promised it would get rid of
all your wrinkles—and I almost bought some.”

“Why
didn’t you?” Jake, who’d been fairly silent till now, popped up.

Janetta
shrugged. “Figured my whole
face’d
disappear.”

Every
woman within twenty feet lost it in laughter. And as we went on, talking about
this stage of life we found ourselves in, I couldn’t help but think of Judy
Blevins, and how beautifully she would’ve fit right in with all of us. I also
wondered about the spiritual depth she would’ve brought to our gathering.

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