Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 03 - Buyer's Remorse (16 page)

“Mothers have survived elopements before,” Heather said with a smile. “Let this wedding be for you and Alonzo. You can always have a party back home for your parents.”

Mitzy lifted the roses up and smelled the delicate fragrance. “Yes. This is best.” On the road, with death smashing in the fender of her car, she had let her heart pray to God the words she couldn’t think of. And God had heard her prayers, all of them right then. He had answered her prayers by letting her live. Alonzo had lived too. And God delivered a pastor to them so they could get married right this minute. She was sorry her mom and dad would miss it, but yes, mothers had survived elopements before.

She walked into the clerk’s office with the white roses in her arms. Alonzo stood up at the desk with the Pastor Bill and Ben and Jenny. He held out his hand to her and she took it.

Alonzo and Mitzy were married, sincerely, completely, and devoutly married, with a few simple words and a prayer of thanksgiving.

After a truly breathtaking kiss, Mitzy let go of Alonzo and looked around. Ben was grinning, ear to ear. Jenny was looking out the window, avoiding eye contact with Mitzy.

“That’s it,” Mitzy whispered.

Alonzo pulled Mitzy to him one more time. “You’re not getting out of my sight again, you know that, right?” He kissed her before she could respond.

The door to the county clerk’s office opened with a whine. A man in a denim and
shearling
jacket stepped in. He had a truck stop hat pulled low over his head. “
Mornin
’,” he said; he didn’t smile. He took long slow steps into the room and stopped in front of Alonzo and Mitzy, one hand in his coat pocket.

“I wondered when you’d get here,” Jenny said.

“Do you know him?” Ben asked, looking from his wife to the big man in the trucker hat.

“Sure I do. He’s the bad guy, isn’t he?” She stepped right up to him, “I’ve been expecting him since we got here.”

“Jenny!” Heather said, shocked. “Don’t be rude.”

Jenny looked him up and down and shook her head in disgust. “Do you really think we are going to let you come in here, in the middle of the wedding and, what, ‘get us’?” She rolled her eyes. “You may be some kind of red neck thug perpetrating various and sundry nefarious crimes, but you have no right to interrupt—” He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her to his chest. He pressed his palm over her mouth.

“She talks too much,” he said. “I figger she’s got about five minutes before she needs to breathe. Hand me all your cell phones and I’ll be leaving.”

Mitzy held Alonzo’s hand in hers and squeezed his fingers. She watched her friends. Ben had gone pale like he was going to faint, Heather hovered near her daughter, her hands fluttering in front of her like she wanted to pull Jenny to safety. Bill had quietly slipped to the side, and gotten himself behind the man in the hat. Alonzo stepped forward. “This room is full of cameras,” he said.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the man replied with a slow drawl. “Just give me your phones. A good friend asked me to get them and this seemed like the right time. I thought the wedding would never be over.” He caught Mitzy’s eye, “Don’t even think of screaming or pretending you don’t have a phone.”

Mitzy shut her mouth. She tried to watch Bill without being obvious. “We’ll give you our phones. No biggy. Just let poor Jenny breathe.”

The man grinned, “Whatever,” he said. He dropped his hand from her mouth, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife instead. He put it up to her neck. “That better?”

Mitzy pulled her phone out of her pocket. Heather and Ben did the same thing. They each put them on the floor and gave them a push across the linoleum.

“Two more,” the man said.

Alonzo took his phone out of the pocket of his pants. He crouched down, inch by inch, and put it on the floor, but not before he took a picture. He stood up and put his foot on the phone. “Who wants these?”

The man laughed.
“Someone important.
Hey Joe!” he called out.

“What’s that?” A voice from the back answered.

“Just me, man.
Getting something for our friend.”

Joe showed his face in the banker style window that he had stood in to record the wedding. “Hey now!” he said, his face ashen. His eyebrow twitched as he looked out.

“Don’t worry. Our friend needs their phones. If I get them all no one gets hurt.”

“Give the man your phones and get out of here. I don’t want any trouble in my office.” He looked at the small group again and then closed the shutter to his window.

“Ain’t small towns great?” The man with the knife said. “Everybody knows each other. Two more phones.”

Mitzy watched as Bill quietly picked up the upholstered waiting room chair. He moved away from the man with the knife one more step and then brought the chair down on his head.

The man crumpled to the floor, sliding his knife across Jenny’s collarbone. She screamed as it slit her skin. Ben ran to her. He caught her in his arms, but she pushed him away. She turned around and kicked the man. “I told you not to come in here and ruin this beautiful day!” she screamed.

“Run!” Bill called out.

Jenny kept kicking him. “I want to tell him how I feel! I have had it with you people and your knives and
your
kidnapping. Grow up!” She kicked him, over and over. Her face was red and her hair flew around her face as she kicked him again.

“Run, I said!” Bill hollered. He grabbed Alonzo by the arm and both men ran. Ben was trying to grab Jenny but she was flailing, her arms flying with each kick she delivered.

“Baby, we’ve got to get out of here!” he cried.

Mitzy reached down and collected the cell phones. She handed one to Jenny. “Why don’t you just call the cops?”

Jenny took the phone and gave him one more kick. Then she turned to Mitzy, “As for you, this is the last time, really the last
time, that
you get to come along with your drama and your crime and ruin my fun!” Jenny stalked out with her phone to her ear.

Ben looked from the man on the ground to Mitzy. “I told you she was still mad!”

“Joe?” Mitzy called out. The man on the ground looked like he was down for a little while.

Joe stuck his head out his window again. “Yes ma’am?” He looked down at his friend on the ground. His upper lip began to twitch.

“How much do you need to keep this all quiet? This guy knows who I am, I think. But he doesn’t know the other ones.
How much to keep their names away from him?”

Joe’s thin lips made a tiny smile. “Well now…”

The man on the ground shifted his legs.

“I don’t have time for this,” Mitzy said. She pulled out her wallet and tossed a hundred dollar bill into the window at Joe. “Please, he knows who I am. That’s enough.”

Joe picked the money up with two fingers and smiled at it.

Mitzy grabbed the handle of the heavy wood door, and pulled it. It groaned in her hand and for a moment she thought the sound came from the man on the floor.

She ran to Alonzo’s pickup and jumped in the open door that was waiting for her. Everyone else was already gone. Alonzo drove off without a word. At the first stop light he leaned over and kissed her.
“Happy wedding.”

“Happy wedding.
Now what?”
Mitzy knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to keep driving until they were back at the police station in
Portland
and the cops had seen their photos. But for the moment, since they had just gotten married, she supposed she’d ask Alonzo his opinion.

“Well…” He nudged her with his elbow.

She blushed again. “Where did Heather and Bill go? And why didn’t you wait for me?”

“They went back to the church that’s hosting their convention.
Strength in numbers.
They invited us to come too. And I didn’t wait for you because Bill is a very persuasive man. But I did have the get-away car all ready. That’s not too bad.”

“No, that’s not too bad. Listen, I gave the last of my cash to Joe, so he wouldn’t tell that guy who the people with us were. I hope he won’t. But you never can tell.”

“I don’t think the knife guy was the farmer.”

“Neither do
I
. He kept talking about their mutual ‘friend.’ I think that was our ‘farmer.’ I don’t think we should stay the night here.”

“What about the Miata?”

“Let’s lay low with the Baptists today, maybe crash in one of the rooms at the church and then drive through the night,” Mitzy said.

“Now that is a romantic honeymoon.”

“I’ve got the pictures on the camera. Getting run off the road and held up at knife point—”

“That was just Jenny,” Alonzo said.

“One of us getting held up is enough. I’d say the guy running this business is feeling the pressure from someone, and not just us. We need to get out of here.”

“Okay then. We’ll let the insurance adjuster fax over the info. We’ll hook up with the Baptists, get a little rest and then get out of here.”

Mitzy let her hand rest on Alonzo’s knee, “I’m glad we’re married,” she said.

“Me too.
Now I don’t have to let you out of my sight.”

Mitzy closed her eyes and leaned her head back for a moment. It had been a long 24 hours.

The truck stopped and Mitzy opened her eyes. They were at a church called First Baptist. Alonzo got out of the car and then opened the door for Mitzy. He helped her down. She yawned. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.

“You did drive all night,” Alonzo said.

“Do you really think they’ll give us a place to take a nap?” she asked.

“Bill and Heather promised. They said they’ve got a group stationed here all day with food and hot drinks. If nothing else we can stretch out on a pew. What could be wrong with that idea?” He opened the tall glass doors to the church and let Mitzy in.

“Surprise!”
A group of about thirty men and women all turned, smiling at Mitzy and Alonzo.

“Congratulations on your wedding!” a woman said coming forward. She stepped to the side and revealed a three level wedding cake, a bowl of punch, a tray of tiny sandwiches and a big platter of fried chicken. “What’s a wedding without a reception?”

Then Heather stepped forward, smiling, “I’d like to share a few thoughts on marriage with you as you begin your journey together.”

Mitzy panicked. She looked around the room at the smiling faces of middle-aged missionaries and couldn’t see a way to get out. She was holding Alonzo’s hand and squeezed it so tight her knuckles cried out. Alonzo dropped her hand. He stepped aside just a few feet and brought her a chair.

She dropped into it and mouthed thank you.

The next morning fifteen hung over women dragged themselves into the breakfast room at the inn. Carmella hadn’t put away the continental breakfast, even though it was almost 11. She pitied the girls. They were sick and starving. The bride looked horrid. She was green faced, with puffy red eyes. Deep lines etched her face; they didn’t look like smile lines this morning. And her roots were showing. Carmella had her job cut out for her today.

When the girls had asked to keep the attic rooms for the rest of the week, there was no way Carmella could say no. But the bridal party and friends were showing wear. Carmella needed to brighten them up before today’s pictures. She was determined the first big wedding booking was going to succeed, despite the bedraggled group in front of her.

Carmella carried a tray with tomato juice and bagels to the girls.

The bride looked at Carmella with eyes crying for help.

Carmella sat down next to her. “It’s okay. We’ll pull you together,” she said. “But tonight you’ve got to promise to sleep. Do you understand? No more drinking either. You are getting married tomorrow.”

The bride nodded. Then she dropped her head into her hands.

“It’s okay. Stick with me and you will be fine.” Carmella patted the bride’s back. She set the tray of tomato juice on the side table and headed back downstairs. She had another tray ready with water bottles, vitamins, and fresh fruit.

Alonzo and Mitzy had driven all night so that they would be able to get into a police station in
Portland
as soon as they could.

“I’ve got to get back to the job site,” Alonzo said.

Mitzy’s mouth dropped open.

“I know, but if I can get there right now, give some instructions and tell them that I won’t be
back
for a week, then…well…then I won’t have to go back for a week. I get there right away, put out any fires that popped up while I was gone and make sure they haven’t screwed the place up.”

Mitzy nodded. She never wanted Alonzo to leave her again. She knew that wasn’t reasonable, but these weren’t reasonable times.

“I’ll go to the worksite and then you take my truck. Get to the nearest police station and tell them everything you know. Then come right back here and get me. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”
Mitzy had watched the weather change as they drove back over the mountains. The rain began as a dribble, but by the time they reached
Portland
it was pouring in sheets.

“Unless you have a better idea?”

“No. I get it. I wish we could go to the police together and then to your worksite though.”

“That would take twice as long. Just do it my way.”

Mitzy’s stomach was in knots and she was dizzy. They had napped all afternoon at the church and then hit the road. They hadn’t eaten anything. Alonzo hadn’t shared the job of driving, but despite that she had stayed awake and had been anxious almost the whole way home. Alonzo pulled into his worksite.

“Let’s make it work, Neuhaus. We can get the job done.”

“Go team,” Mitzy said in a dull voice as she switched over to the driver’s seat.
One stop at the police station.
That’s all it would take. Then she and Alonzo could sneak away together and leave all this ugliness behind them.

Mitzy drove away with trepidation. She didn’t intend on following bad advice for the rest of her life.
This once, yes, but not again.

Alonzo unlocked the door to his trailer. He had to take care of the last of the work requisitions before he could leave for any length of time. Be that as it may, there was just one thing he wanted to do right now, and that was get Mitzy far away from
Portland
. He pushed the door to his office open.

The Frog was sitting in his desk chair.

“
Pierre
?” Alonzo said, scratching his head.

“I’ve been sent with a message for you.”
Pierre
wasn’t dressed for work. He had on white pants and a funny plaid hat.

“Okay.” Alonzo turned on his computer and flipped through his mail.

“I think you should pay attention,”
Pierre
said.

Alonzo turned to him. “How did you get in here?”

“You need to back off of the Capet case. Do you understand?”

“How did you get in here?”

“If you don’t back off you will regret it.”

“That’s fine. I don’t let regret bother me. How did you get in here?”

Pierre
stood up. “I’m done. I’ve delivered my message.”

“That was a pretty pointless message and makes you look like you are more involved in this mess than you wanted me to believe.” Alonzo stepped back in front of the door. “Now tell me, how did you get in here?”

Pierre
pulled a key out of his pocket and set it on the desk, “Tell Mitzy to keep a better eye on that fancy purse of hers.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Who sent you with a message?”

“The boss.”
Pierre
’s eye began to twitch. He turned his head to the window.

“It’s too small buddy. You’d never get out of there. Now what boss sent you with the message?
Your crew boss?
I doubt it.
The union boss?
Not likely.
The murderer?
That’s who I suspect. And who would that be? Who is the boss?
That lady from the shop?”

Pierre
’s face blanched. He stepped to the right, toward the doorknob.

“Fiona, right?
That’s the boss? You are the hired thug and she’s the boss?”

Alonzo set the mail down on top of the key to his trailer. “Did Fiona want you to give me that key back?”

Pierre
lunged for the stack of mail. Alonzo slammed his hand on it. “Not so fast. I’ve got a message for you to give The Boss.” Alonzo clenched his hand and drew back his arm. He pitched his fist into
Pierre
’s face.

Pierre
teetered on his feet. Before he could gain his balance Alonzo punched him in the face again.

Pierre
reeled back and landed against the wall. He held his hand against his nose. A thin line of red blood trickled down his face.

Someone tapped on Alonzo’s door. Alonzo shook his fist out and opened it.

It was Hector.

“Your secretary said I could find you here,” Hector said.

“What do you need?” Alonzo asked.

“I tried to find Mitzy, but no one answered at her office.” Hector stood with his hands in his pockets, his head hung to his chest. He looked contrite.

“Yes?” Alonzo turned his head and looked at
Pierre
.
Pierre
held a tissue to his nose.

“I know Mitzy doesn’t approve of Trish and me. But that’s life. I’m still glad she’s looking out for Lara.”

“What can I do for you, Hector?”

Hector cleared his throat and stood a little taller. “I was going through Lara’s stuff at my place. Trish wants me to get rid of it all. I found this.” He held out a small book with an elastic band around it. “It looks pretty interesting, if you know what I mean.” Hector glanced at
Pierre
.

Alonzo put the book in the back pocket of his jeans and nodded. “Can I call you if I have any questions?”

“Do that. I think I can explain it.” Hector looked at
Pierre
again, “Do I know you?”
Pierre
turned his head away. “Lara was in some pretty deep stuff. It’s amazing she didn’t bite it earlier.” He shrugged. “I’ve got to go.”

“We’ll call you, man,” Alonzo said.

Hector nodded and left.

Alonzo turned back to
Pierre
.
“Now about you.
I’m calling the police and you are just sitting there, get it?”

Pierre
stood up and tried to weave his way to the door.

Alonzo grabbed him by his shoulders and forced him into a chair. “You don’t get it.” He grabbed his walkie from the desk. “Hey Bruce, come to the trailer.” Then he switched to his cell and dialed 911.