The Wedding Caper (26 page)

Epilogue

I think the
four hundred and sixty-three handwritten letters from the fine folks at
Clarksborough
Community Church must’ve made a difference.
Three weeks before Christmas, the judge who’d been assigned to Richard
Blevins’s case gave him the lowest possible sentence. Two years in the county
jail, with three days credit for every one day served. In essence, he would
probably be released about six to nine months, with community service to
follow. And we—his friends and family—would be here to welcome him
home with open arms when the moment arrived.

On the morning
after the trial, I tried to settle back into my routine. I spent an enjoyable
hour soaking in a bubble-filled tub and praying. Mental note: This new almond
bath gel is just the ticket. Closest thing to heaven I’ve smelled in years.

After
toweling off, I dressed in a green and red Christmas sweater and my most
comfortable pair of jeans. Instead of reading my devotional on the Internet, I
opted to sit next to the fireplace with my Bible in hand. I turned to the book
of Psalms and browsed the pages. After reading through several verses, I paused
as I came across one in chapter sixty-eight that jumped out at me: “God sets
the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing.”

I thought
back over the past few months, how the Lord had done just that. He had taken
Nikki Rogers and made her a semi-permanent fixture at our family gatherings. My
girls had connected with her on such a deep level that she currently found
herself a bridesmaid-to-be in two upcoming weddings. The smile on her face had
broadened when she learned that Jake Mullins would be the one escorting her
down the aisle. Yep. He’d become a regular, too. And Amber, now a bona fide
chatterbox, had agreed to welcome guests and hand out programs at both
ceremonies. Talk about a transformation!

I
pondered the situation with
Janetta
Mullins and her
children, how they’d been grafted into the
Clarksborough
Community Church with such ease—how she’d taken over the ministry that
provided meals for shut-ins. What a natural she is at that! I thought back to
the day she had first arrived in church, a prodigal in need of a home. Surely
God had drawn her back—with a little help from Sheila and that lovely
singing voice.

He leads
forth the prisoners with singing…

I
stumbled a bit when I thought about Richard Blevins—currently imprisoned
at the county jail. I knew that God would one day set him free, not just from
his current situation,
but
from many losses in his
life, and the guilt that surely lingered after the past few months. I
contemplated the grace and mercy of a young man like Jake Mullins, who had
taken the time to visit with Richard every week, rain or shine.

Most of
all, however, I thought about my own family—how the Lord had invigorated
us for the tasks ahead, and how He had given me the courage to release my
daughters into the hands of their future husbands. I prayed they would be as
happy as Warren and I had been.

With such
contended thoughts in mind, I set about my daily tasks. Now that the
investigation was safely behind me, I found myself focusing on the truly
exciting things of life, like laundry, dishes and grocery shopping. I met up
with Sheila for lunch at the Diner, and had a great chat with Shawna, who’d
taken to calling me “honey”—not out of sarcasm but affection. I wasn’t surprised
to hear she had reconciled with her family in Philadelphia, not after all of
our heart-to-heart chats over the prior weeks, but it did sadden me to know she
would be leaving our little town. I would miss her dearly.

After
lunch I returned home to edit a manuscript for a new client—the one I’d
agreed to do at a lower cost. I read through it, excited to find little to
edit. God had blessed my generosity with his grace.

The hours
passed quickly, quietly. I fully enjoyed every moment. Even Sasha seemed
content to rest easily at my feet as I worked. Her behavior over the past few
weeks had improved slightly, but I still pondered the veterinarian’s suggestion
to get a second dog. Maybe one of these days we’d find Sasha a suitable
husband.
And why not?
We were all in the wedding
mindset, anyway.

That
evening I cooked up a delicious chicken recipe
Janetta
had sent me via e-mail. Warren offered a host of compliments as I dished out
his second helping. Even Devin chimed in with some flattering remarks. After
dinner, Devin headed off to a friend’s house to watch a movie, and I set about
the task of loading the dishwasher.

I’d no
sooner started, than Warren’s voice interrupted me. “Annie.”

“Hmm?” I
kept my focus on the dishes, not looking up.

He
cleared his throat. Loudly. I looked across the room to find him leaning
against the kitchen wall… with a red rose in his teeth.

“What in
the world?”

He held
his hands out to the side and did a little cha
cha
cha
, then extended his arms in my direction.

Ah, an
invitation.

I quickly
dried my hands and rushed into my husband’s embrace. He took the
rose—real, not
fake
—and pressed it behind
my ear, then slowly danced me around in a circle. After giving me a final spin,
he closed out our choreography with a well-rehearsed dip.

For
whatever reason, as he lifted me back up into his arms for one of the sweetest
kisses of my life, I was reminded of my very first Internet lesson: Just the
facts, ma’am.

I ran
through again them in my mind, so that I would never forget.

Fact #1:
I am the happiest, most blessed woman on the planet.

Fact #2:
Refer to Fact #1

As I
gazed up into my husband’s eyes, I felt the inevitable question coming on. He
gave me a wink as he asked: “Moo-
lenium
Crunch?”

“It’s
freezing out tonight,” I argued. “Are you sure you still want ice cream?”

He nodded
and reached for the bowls. Together, we filled them and headed off to the den,
where we sat side-by-side on the sofa.

Well, we
tried to sit side-by-side. Sasha somehow managed to squirm her way between us,
head resting on Warren’s knee. Yep, she definitely needed a companion.

We sat
quietly—the three of us—enjoying the crackling of the logs in the
fireplace, as we ate our ice cream together. When we finished, I leaned my head
against Warren’s shoulder and rested, content for the simplicity of such a
blissful night.

As it so
often did, life interrupted. The telephone rang out, shattering the stillness.
I looked at the caller ID and had to smile. Brandi. Warren must’ve guessed from
my smile.

“One of
the girls?”

When I nodded,
he said, “Let me get it.” He answered the phone, and dove into a joyous
conversation with our eldest daughter.

He
eventually passed the phone off to me, and Brandi began to fill my ears with
tales of wedding photographers and tuxedo rentals. I leaned back against the
sofa and let her go on, enjoying the cadence of her voice as the words flowed.

Warren
slid his arm around me, and I leaned against his shoulder, phone still pressed
to my ear. Every now and again I got in a “Sounds great, honey,” but mostly I
just listened. Listened with all of my senses—another thing I’d learned
from my crime-fighting days. We ended the call, and I thought about those
words. Crime-fighting days. Hmm.

Much as I
hated to admit it aloud, I had enjoyed the past several weeks. Figuring out who
had stolen the money from the bank had been challenging, sure, but I’d had a
blast doing it.

My
excitement rose as I considered the possibilities. Maybe the Lord had more
adventures in store for me. Maybe He wanted me to scale the highest mountains.
Maybe He wanted me to swim the deepest seas.

Or maybe…

I glanced
over at my husband, who now snored like a freight train, his head tilted back
against the sofa, lips slightly parted. I pulled the flower from behind my ear
and slipped it between his teeth with a giggle.

Maybe He
just wanted me to take the time to smell the roses.

###

Thank you for reading The Wedding Caper. I hope you enjoyed
Annie’s story. Please enjoy chapter one from the second book in the Bridal
Mayhem Mystery Series: Gone with the Groom.

Gone with the Groom

Chapter One

Bye, Bye Love

My daughter’s
fiancé had always been a bit of a prankster, but disappearing two weeks before
their wedding day seemed a bit much, even for him.

I received
the call on a Friday morning in late January while taking my dachshund, Sasha,
to the groomer. The bride-to-be sounded beside herself. I tried to make sense
of Brandi’s frantic words, but found myself in a blur of confusion.

“Honey,
would you mind repeating that?” I shut off the car and shuffled the cell phone
to my left ear, hoping to hear her better. “I must’ve misunderstood. Did you
say Scott has disappeared?”

The
trembling in my daughter’s high-pitched voice evolved into full-fledged sobs. I
wasn’t sure what to make of it. Brandi rarely cried, at least not openly. When
she finally came up for air, I heard, “
Y.
. .yes! He’s
gone.”

“Gone?”

“
N.
. .no one has seen him.” I pulled the phone away from my ear
for a moment as another round of tears spilled forth on her end. “He didn’t
show up for work this morning. And he missed his ten o’clock tux fitting at
BJ’s Formal Wear. No one has laid eyes on him. No one.”

I glanced
down at my watch. 11:05. “I’m sure he just overslept.” I spoke in my most
motherly voice. “Happens all the time.”

She gave
a little sniffle. “I’ve called his apartment ten times. Maybe eleven. And I’ve
called his cell phone more than that. It goes straight to his voice mail. He
never lets it go to his voice mail when I call. Never!”

“But you
told me just yesterday he’s been having trouble with his cell phone,” I
reminded her. “Remember?”

“Oh
yeah.” I could hear her voice brighten right away. “I forgot about that.”

“And what
about those friends of his?” I offered. “You know how they are.” His buddies
thrived on playing practical jokes, but since they had morphed into groomsmen,
their tricks had multiplied exponentially. Surely they’d had a hand in this.

“Jason
says he hasn’t seen him,” Brandi said with a sniffle. “None of the guys have.
And his car is missing from the parking lot at his apartment. Missing, Mom.
Just like he is!”

I pulled
my jacket tight around me then climbed out of the car with Sasha’s leash
securely clutched in my hand. The pup’s feet no sooner hit the icy walkway than
she began to slip and slide, carrying me along behind her. “Whoa, girl!” We
both skidded along until I finally caught my footing. With a shiver, I clutched
her leash in one fist and my oversized leather purse in the other, all the
while using my shoulder to press the cell phone to my ear.

“
D.
. .don’t worry, Brandi,” I panted as the dog pulled me
this way and that. “God is in control. I’m
s.
. .sure
t. . .there’s a logical explanation for this.”

“But how
do you know?”

I finally
got my canine companion to slow down. After a couple of deep catch-up
breaths
, my lungs felt frozen from the inside out—not
a pleasant feeling.
But no time to worry about that right
now, not with my daughter in a panic.
I did my best to console her.

“I don’t
know for sure, but let’s be logical. Scott probably just decided to hit the gym
before work and got carried away on the elliptical machine. He’s obsessed with
working out, right?”

“Yeah.”

I knew
this firsthand, having visited the gym myself several times over the past few
weeks in preparation for the wedding day. Scott and I often ended up side by
side on the elliptical machines.

“Or,
maybe,” I suggested with a lilt in my voice, “he had a dentist appointment he
forgot to tell you about. It’s got to be something like that.” I shivered
against the cold morning air as I made my way toward the puppy spa.
Mental
Note: Next time, skip the trendy jacket and go straight for the full-length
coat.

“
O.
. .okay.” I heard her sigh of relief. “I know you’re
right, Mom. You’re always right.”

“I’m not
so sure about the ‘always’ part, but I am sure Scott must have a reasonable
explanation for all this. I love you, Babe, and I’m praying.”

As Brandi
clicked off, I shook my head and sighed. With my twin daughters, Brandi and
Candy, both in wedding-planning mode, pandemonium had taken hold of the
Peterson household over the past few weeks. It seemed the closer we got to
Daughter #1’s Big Day, the more tensions mounted. I often wondered if we would
live through this season of our lives.

And my
own escapades hadn’t helped the situation. My budding career as
Clarksborough
P-A’s “Crime Fighter
Extraordinaire”—this according to the editorial staff at the
Clark
County
Gazette
—had only added to the chaos. I smiled as I
thought about the strange twists and turns my life had taken of late. Somehow,
in the midst of tracking down clues, I’d managed to keep my marriage and my
editing business afloat, amazing my clients, and putting a cock-eyed smile on
the face of my wonderful husband. Always the comedian, Warren had even taken to
calling me “Agatha Annie.” I didn’t mind.
At first.

But my
sleuthing days were behind me now. Crime fighting and wedding planning
were never meant to be attempted
simultaneously. This, I had
already learned the hard way.

I shoved
the cell phone in my purse and entered the door of Coats
‘n
Tails, where I passed off an unwilling Sasha to the groomer—a
twenty-something female with more tattoos than anyone should be allowed by law.
I gave her the necessary instructions:
Flea
dip. Nail
clip. Red polish.
Red sweater with faux fur trim.
New red collar with Austrian crystals.
Be back at two
o’clock.

As I
turned to leave, I pondered Brandi’s final words:
I know you’re right, Mom.
You’re always right.

Hmm. The past
few weeks had given me plenty of opportunity to prove myself wrong. What I
didn’t need, especially now, was another shot at it.

Purchase
your copy of
Gone
with the Groom
now.