The Wedding Caper (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The early bird
might get the worm, but it’s the second mouse that gets the cheese. I made it
my goal to be that second mouse.

With
Lesson Nine’s title about returning to the scene of the crime firmly implanted
in my brain, I headed off to the bank for another look at the night deposit
box. I opted to go at night, several hours after the funeral ended, because I
wanted to put myself in exactly the same situation Jake would have found
himself in on the night the money disappeared.

My
darling husband, God bless him, wouldn’t let me go alone. When I explained that
I needed to spend some time looking over the night deposit box in some detail,
he appeased me by waiting in the car with the headlights on so that I could
see.

In order
to search for intricacies, I also carried along a flashlight and a magnifying
glass. I’d tucked my “Just the Facts” notebook under my armpit, in case I
needed a quick place to jot down any clues.

I tried
to envision what I must look like, stealing across the parking lot.
Er
… sneaking. Stealing just felt like the wrong word.
Still, I felt a bit like a television detective, which, for some reason, got me
tickled. Mental note: Next time wear husband’s trench coat for the full effect.

Tip-toeing
over to the box, I tried to think about what things were like on the night in
question. Had Jake watched in the shadows as his sister dropped off the cash
deposit? Had he then inched his way toward the box he’d already rigged? Did he
know how much money to expect? Had Kristina, out of sympathy, perhaps, worked
with him? Did
Janetta
somehow play a role, perhaps to
bring attention to the family business? Had the whole event been staged? Were
they secretly laughing at the rest of us as they counted out their cash and
brought in new, sympathetic, customers?

I
examined the box with great care, looking for…
well,
I
didn’t really have a clue what I was looking for.
Signs of
tampering?
Bends? Breaks?

I did
take note of a few scratches on the upper right section of the box, but nothing
that smelled like trouble. In fact, nothing seemed out of the ordinary at all,
nothing whatsoever. Well, unless you counted the part about the middle-aged
woman with a paunchy middle who prowled around in the wee hours of the night in
search of a villain who didn’t want to be found.

Defeated,
I went back to the car and took my seat beside Warren with a sigh.

“Nothing
jumped out at you?” he queried.

“No.
Nothing but the cold hard facts.”

“What do
you mean?”

Another
sigh on my part set the stage for my next words. “I mean
,
it’s a cold, hard fact that I’m not a very good investigator.”

“Oh, Annie—”

“No,
seriously,” I explained. “I’ve wasted your money with those courses. I thought
you were the burglar. I was wrong.”

“Thankfully.”

“Yes.
And, as much as I hate to think about it, I suspected Richard, too.”

“Right.”

“Then, I
was sure it was Nikki Rogers.” I sighed. “But I think I can safely say she’s
off the hook now. She’s got witnesses and an alibi.”

Warren
chuckled. “Alibi? You’re even talking like an investigator now.”

I tossed
my notebook on the floor, then leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.
“I just feel ridiculous. Everything points back to the Mullins family, and that
means the police were probably right all along. When I think of the way I
drilled Officer
O’Henry
that day at the jail—”

“Whoa,”
Warren interrupted. “You talked to the police?”

“Yeah.
Guess I forgot to tell you that part.”

“When did
this happen?”

“The day
after I ate apple pie with Jake Mullins.”

“You ate
apple pie with Jake Mullins?”

“Yeah.” I
sighed again, as much for effect, as anything. “Did I forget to tell you that
part, too?”

“Um,
yeah.” He gave me the funniest look. “Annie, you’ve got the best heart in town,
but you live dangerously close to the edge. Have I ever mentioned that?”

“Yeah.”

“Problem
is,” he said, “I don’t know how close to the edge you can afford to live right
now with two weddings to plan and Devin so thick into the football season. Do
you think, maybe, you’re reaching the point where you might want to just let
this thing go? Let the police
figure
it out?”

“I don’t
know, honey.” I leaned my head on his shoulder and thought about it. “Maybe.”
I’d have to pray about that.

At that
moment, the parking lot filled with lights. Flashing lights, actually.
Red flashing lights.

“Oh no.”
Warren slapped himself in the head. “Now what have we done?”

I looked
out the window to find a patrol car, light bar lit up like our subdivision at
Christmastime. A rap on Warren’s window caught our attention. He rolled it down
and Michael
O’Henry
leaned in, a look of chagrin on
his face.

“Do you folks
mind if I ask what you’re doing here?”

“I,
um— I work here?” Warren tried.

O’Henry
shook his head, frustrated. “I know
that, Warren. But you don’t work here at eleven o’clock at night. And why in
the world are your headlights pointed at the night deposit box? Do you realize
what that looks like?”

A wave of
fear shot through me as I realized how things looked. Had we just put ourselves
at the top of the suspect list with this goofy move on my part?

“Michael,”
I interrupted, “You know me. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this
crime. I want to solve this thing as much as you do.”

“Yes, I
know.” He leaned in a bit further. “But I told you that we’re on the job.
There’s not a thing you can think of that we haven’t already considered.”

He hadn’t
lost his touch with that stare.
Very effective.

“I’d
suggest you folks get a move on before I think up some reason to put you both
in the back of my patrol car and take you in for questioning.” A hint of a
smile caused his lips to curl upward, but I sensed a little shiver go up my
spine, regardless. A sign from above that I should let this thing go, perhaps?

“Have a
pleasant evening, Michael.” Warren waited until
O’Henry
backed away then rolled up his window.

I fought
to regain my composure, but nerves made it difficult. Two different things
caused the trembling in my hands. Fear topped the list, naturally. But anger
played a role, too. There’s not a thing you can think of that we haven’t
already considered. His words frustrated me to no end. He had no clue as to my
thoughts. In fact, he’d never once given me the time or the opportunity to
share them with him in full. No, he had dismissed my attempts at crime-solving
altogether, a fact that truly bothered me.

It would
be different if the police had actually made progress over the past few weeks,
but they hadn’t—at least from the outside looking in. They appeared to be
taking their sweet time solving this crime, for sure. And if they really had
their man with Jake Mullins, why was he still running around scot-free? Why
hadn’t they brought charges against him?

I leaned
back against the seat and tried to relax as Warren made the drive home, but my
thoughts now spun out of control. A thousand things ran through my mind, and
pieces to the puzzle remained scattered all over the place.

“When all
you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” I repeated Sheila’s words
aloud.

“What do
you mean?” Warren asked.

“That’s
what Sheila says.”

I
considered, for the first time, that things weren’t always what they appeared
to be. Returning to the scene of the crime had somehow convinced me of that.

No,
things were not always what they appeared to be—and in this case two
wrongs did not make a right.

But three
lefts did.

I tapped
my fingers on the armrest as my thoughts raced backwards in time. I saw several
things come into focus at once, and seeing them so clearly almost frightened
me.

“I’ve
been swinging at anything and everything,” I whispered, “and ignoring the
obvious.”

Warren
slowed the car to make the turn onto our street. “What’s so obvious?”

Just
the facts, ma’am.
Before speaking a word, I offered up a quick prayer. The Lord’s response of
affirmation to my heart was swift and sure. So much so, that it startled me. Oh
Lord, is this what it’s like to hear
Your
voice?

I waited
until I felt sure I’d heard His answer before hesitantly sharing my thoughts
with Warren. He seemed stunned to hear what I had to say, but didn’t interrupt
me to give an opinion. Instead, he pulled the car into our driveway then put it
into park, where we sat together as I took him on a journey through my thought
processes.

“Do I
sound crazy?” I asked finally.

“No.” I
could hear his pained sigh, even in the darkness of the vehicle. “In fact, it
sounds like you were headed in the right direction all along but just didn’t go
quite far enough.”

“Do you
really think so?”

“I think
so.” Warren turned off the car and opened his door. As he did, the car light
overhead popped on and I could read the concern in his eyes. “Looks like you’re
not supposed to give up,” he said with a shrug. “To be honest, it sounds like
you’re really on to something here, Annie. Just keep following the scent.
You’re on the right trail.”

“I am. I
know I am.”

We
climbed from the car and made our way—hand in hand—across the very dark
yard toward the front door. For some reason, the eerie black canvas of the
night reminded me of something else Sheila had once said. What was it, again?

Oh yes.
“It’s always darkest before the dawn. So if you’re going to steal your
neighbor’s newspaper, that’s the time to do it.”

The words
hit me like a bolt of electricity. Whether she’d meant to do it or not, Sheila
had given me the most critical piece of evidence yet.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The following
morning, I took a quick peek at my tenth and final www.investigativeskills.com
lesson before heading off to the Mullins home. The title didn’t surprise me. In
fact, A GOOD INVESTIGATOR DRAWS A LOGICAL CONCLUSION made perfect sense, and
provided even more confirmation that the Lord was “in this,” as it were.

I read
over my Bible verse for the day, knowing it would somehow calm my troubled
mind. Sure enough, I found the words from Matthew chapter seven to be just what
the doctor ordered: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he
who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.” The words
brought courage to my heart when I needed it most.

I arrived
at Clarksville Catering at 8:30 a.m., ready to chat with
Janetta
Mullins. Ready to ask some hard questions. She looked a bit startled when I
insisted upon coming inside, especially since I came with Sasha in hand.

“I’m not
really company-ready.” She gestured to her mismatched This Little Piggy Stayed
Home t-shirt and blue stretch pants. “But come on in. You know you’re always
welcome, Annie.”

I entered
the home with my nerves still a bit raw. Sasha squirmed in my arms and I asked
if I could put her down.

“Of course.”
Janetta
looked down with a smile. “Does she go out
with you a lot?”

“Lately.”
I shrugged. “She has a… well, a separation anxiety disorder.”

“Wow.
Never heard of that in a dog.”

“Yeah,
well—”

“Is there
something you wanted to talk about?”
Janetta
pointed
me toward a chair. “Something to do with the weddings?”

“Nope,
not the weddings.” I opted not to sit.
Too nervous for that,
to be honest.

“What’s
up, Annie?”

Might as
well dive right in. “I’ve been trying to solve the mystery of who stole your
money for weeks now.”

Here, her
face paled. “You’ve what?”

“Yes,” I
offered. “It started innocently. I wanted to prove to myself that Warren hadn’t
taken it.”

“Are you
kidding?” She looked flabbergasted. “You thought your husband stole the money?”

“Well, the
idea crossed my mind. Let’s just leave it at that.”

She shook
her head, and I could read the confusion in her eyes. “I’m assuming you got
over that.”

“Um,
yeah. He didn’t take it. But I’m pretty sure I know who did. In fact, I’ve got
a hunch the one who did it is fighting a battle with guilt, even as we speak.”
My astute observation skills took in the fact that her hands began to tremble
at this point.

“Don’t
beat around the bush. Just tell me what you’ve come to say.” Her lips pursed.

“I will,”
I began, “but I’d like to ask you some questions before I start.”

She
shrugged. “Go for it.”

“First,”
I said, “Just one question about Jake, to relieve my mind.”

“What’s
that?”

“Did he
ever take a polygraph test?”

“Yes.”
She nodded, but her brow remained wrinkled.

“And did
he pass it?”

Another
nod. “With flying colors.”

“Enough
said.” I paced the room for a moment then turned to ask another question.
“Would you mind showing me that new commercial oven you were talking about
yesterday?”

“My
oven?” She shrugged. “Sure. Come on.”

I
followed her into the kitchen with Sasha on my heels and stared at the
double-decker beauty. “Wow. Nice.”

“Yeah,”
She reached over to run her fingers along the handle. “I love it.”

“I’d like
to hear everything about it.” I pulled out my notebook and thumbed through the
pages. “Everything.”

A look of
confusion registered on her face. “Oh-
kay
. What do
you want to know?”

“If
you’re up to it,” I suggested, “Just tell me the whole story of how and when
and where you purchased it. Everything.” I yanked an ink pen from my purse in
preparation for taking notes. As I did, Sasha made herself at home under the
kitchen table, sniffing at anything and everything that smelled like food. And
in this home, that was pretty much everything.

Janetta
dove in, telling me all about her “new
baby”—starting with the cost.

I nearly
swallowed my tongue as I wrote down the amount.
Nine thousand
dollars?

“Whoa,
sister,” I looked up from my scribbles and scratches. “I’d have to mortgage the
house to pay for that.” Mental note: Forgetful wife can’t seem to remember that
her husband has already mortgaged the house to pay for two weddings.

“Yeah, I
know it’s a lot,” she explained. “But you’d have to understand how badly I
wanted it. And needed it.”

How
badly?

“I didn’t
go into this decision haphazardly,” she explained. “In fact, I’d hoped to make
the purchase months ahead of time, but had to wait until the price dropped
before I could justify it.”

“Ah.” I
continued to write as she spoke.

“I knew
it would, eventually. Waited for weeks. Weeks. And it was finally low enough
for me to consider—without losing sleep, I mean.”

“I
understand.” I looked up to gauge her expression.

Here, her
face lit into the broadest smile I’d ever seen. “I can’t even tell you how many
times I drove over to Lancaster and just stared at that stove, wishing,
hoping—”

Lancaster.
That answered the where question.

“I knew
I’d make enough money from catering the conference in the Amish country to pay
the down payment and still have plenty left over to cover my mortgage and other
bills for the next few months.”

“So you
bought it after the conference?” I queried. “With money from the event, I
mean?”

“Yes. I
bought it the day after the conference ended. Well, technically I put a down
payment on it that day. I’ll be paying on it for months to come.”

The
day after the conference.
That answered the when question.

She
smiled. “I know it sounds silly now, but I was bent on catching it while the
sale was on, or die trying. And I managed to do it, just in the nick of time.
The sale ended that same day.” She let out a chuckle. “You would’ve laughed,
Annie. I know you would have.”

“Oh?” I
looked up from my notes and noticed the twinkle in her eye.

“I made
the biggest fool of myself trying to get my paycheck cashed, then practically
raced to the store with the money in my hand.”

That
answered the how question.

“I
must’ve looked like some sort of menopausal maniac.”
Janetta
shook her head with a woeful look on her face. “And all for the love of a
stove. Is that the greediest thing you’ve ever heard?”

In light
of what I now know to be true? No.

“Of
course, I had no way
of
knowing the rest of my money
would disappear within hours of paying the down-payment. I sometimes
think—” Here, her eyes misted over. “I sometimes think the Lord has
punished me for my greed. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry… if I hadn’t
insisted I had to have what I wanted when I wanted, well—” She shrugged.
“Who knows how different my life would be right now.”

How
different all our lives would be.

“
Janetta
, honey—” I reached out to squeeze her hands.
“I just have one more question, and then I’ll tell you what I’ve come to say.”

She
nodded and I dove right in. “Did you let anyone at the bank know you’d be
making a deposit that night?” Somehow I already felt I knew what she’d say, but
needed to hear the words as a confirmation.

She
nodded. “I did. That’s the part that’s been driving me crazy, in fact. I felt
so silly for carrying all of that cash, and knew I wouldn’t get it to the bank
before the drive-through closed. The only other option was the night deposit,
which wouldn’t have been a problem if I’d been depositing a check. But I was so
nervous about carrying cash, that I called the bank to let them know in
advance.”

I knew
it.

“See,”
her brow knotted as she spoke, “that’s why it bothered me so much to hear the
police say it was just a matter of my word against theirs.”

“I
understand.” I offered up a sympathetic smile. “And I’m so sorry all of this
has happened to you. I really am.” At this point, Sasha began to jump up and
down, in an attempt to get my attention. I reached down to pick her up and
cradled her in my arms.

“I’ll
tell you the truth,”
Janetta’s
face grew quite
serious, “after that $25,000 disappeared, I didn’t know if I’d have the money
to pay my mortgage and utility bills, let alone keep on paying for that crazy
oven. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the income from your daughters’ weddings
and the Get Out to Vote rally, I don’t think I would’ve made it through this
past month or so.”

It warmed
my heart to know our money had somehow eased the strain of her situation. But I
sensed she had more to say.

“The
thing that has stunned me most,” she continued, “is how many people from the
community have reached out to help us. They’ve all been so great. Pastor
Miller.
Sheila and her husband.
And
Richard Blevins.
He’s been the most amazing of all.”

Yep.
Looks like I’ve hit a nail.

I took a
deep breath before forging ahead with my facts, which could now be shared in
full. “I have a story to tell you,” I started. “And it starts on the morning
after your daughter made the deposit.” It’s always darkest before the dawn… I
could hear Sheila’s words ringing loud and clear.

“Tell me,
Annie,”
Janetta
implored.

Just as I
started to spill my guts, my cell phone rang out. Sasha whined a bit as I put
her down to reach for it. When I recognized the number as Warren’s, I offered
up a quick apology to
Janetta
, then answered it right
away.

“Honey,”
I whispered, “Bad timing.”

“No,” he whispered
back, “critical timing.”

Yikes.
“What’s up?”

“I just
thought you’d want to know,” he spoke with strained voice, “that Richard was
just in here to clear out his desk. He said he’s going out of town for a few
days on vacation. But something in his eyes told me otherwise. And after what
you shared last night, I just thought you’d want to know.”

I tried
to still my mind before my thoughts took me captive. I had to formulate a plan,
and quickly. “Warren, here’s what I’d like you to do. Wait about fifteen
minutes then call
O’Henry
at the sheriff’s office.
Tell him to meet me at
Clarksborough
Catering.”

I
couldn’t help but notice
Janetta’s
eyes widen.

“Why
Clarksborough
Catering?” Warren asked. “What are you
thinking, Annie?”

I drew in
a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t question my explanation. “I know Richard
Blevins pretty well, and I don’t think there’s a chance in the world he’s going
to leave town without taking care of one little thing first.”

Warren
paused a moment before responding. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I am. So
do me a favor and call the sheriff’s office,” I repeated, “but give Richard a
few minutes to get here first. I want to talk to him.”

“Annie, I
don’t like the sound of that.”

“I know,
but you have to trust me, Warren,” I explained. “I don’t feel I’m in harm’s
way, but it will make you feel better to pray. And Warren—”

“Yes,
baby?”

“I think
we can safely say I’ve gotten your money’s worth.”