A Wedding To Die For

“You haven’t asked her?”

“I don’t want to ask her, Abby. Besides, that’s not the reason I needed to talk to you. I want you to stop looking for her birth mother. You can pretend you’re working on the case, but please, I’m begging you, just pretend.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Just trust me. You don’t want to find her,” he said.

“I’ve already found her,” I said. “And I know all about her.”

He closed his eyes. “Damn. So you know she was at the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Then you realize she’s not the person Megan hoped to find. This mother’s not her dream come true, Abby.”

“How did you find out?” I asked, wanting to add And why the hell didn’t you tell me?

He hung his head. “The day of the wedding, I saw Megan’s father talking to this woman after Sylvia sent me to find James. He and the woman were near the dock, and voices carry out there. I heard exactly what James was saying to her.

“And what was that?”

“He was saying Megan would have a jailbird for a mother and that he was going to the police first thing Monday morning. He kept asking her if it was fair to meet with Megan and then break her heart.”

“Then what happened?”

“They saw me. The woman ran off around the house and James followed me up to the deck. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I knew how badly Megan wanted to meet her mother and James had the power to make that happen.”

“So you two ended up arguing,” I said.

“He planned to tell Megan everything before her birth mother got the chance to tell her side. Said it was his right because... because he was her biological father, Abby. Then he said Graham would pay through the nose for bringing the woman to the wedding. He didn’t give a damn how all this would affect Megan on her wedding day. Then he told me to keep my mouth shut and stay out of his way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because... because... I wasn’t sure. I had to protect her.”

“You weren’t sure about what?” But then I understood. “I get it. You weren’t sure about Megan. You think she got so angry about the lies she’d been told all her life that she hit her father over the head and killed him?”

Travis blinked hard, his eyes reddening. “She’d never hurt him on purpose. But I know how upset she must have been.”

“Listen, Travis. If she killed her father, accident or not, why would she ask me to investigate the murders? That doesn’t make sense.”

He looked at his boots. “I thought maybe she had to act as people expected her to—and that would be to do everything in her power to find the killer. Maybe she believed you wouldn’t succeed.”

“Maybe, maybe, maybe. You’ve been thinking up the wrong tree, Travis. She didn’t kill him. And Fielder has proof she didn’t.”

His head snapped up and he stared at me, his eyes bright with hope. “Really?”

“Really. And there’s more I need to tell you.”

“Tell him what?” said Sylvia.

We both turned. She was standing in the hall just outside the entrance to the visitation room. How could she have snuck up on us with those shoes? They were ultra pointed with spike heels and had to have made noise. Yet neither of us had heard her.

“Tell him about my new job,” I said quickly. It was the first lie that came to mind.

But Sylvia seemed to be paying little attention to me. She was staring at Travis. “Are you feeling sick?”

He swallowed. “I’m fine. Really.”

“No, you’re not. You’re all flushed. Do you need some fresh air?”

Travis went over and took his mother-in-law’s hands. “I’m finer than fine, but thanks for caring.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes lost behind a quadruple coat of mascara.

Sylvia let go of Travis and held out a hand to me. “You must have just arrived. I’ll come with you while you pay your respects. Megan mentioned how guilty you feel that you couldn’t prevent Graham’s accident.”

“Um, yeah,” I said. She knew damn well it was no accident, but who was I to present reality to her or Roxanne? As she led me toward the other side of the room, I turned and mouthed “later” to Travis.

The casket was a lacquered ebony with gold trim and a kneeling rail had been placed in front. Sylvia used the casket for support to kneel on the velvet cushion, and I followed suit.

She gripped my hand, her acrylic nails digging into my palm. “Lord, we pray for Graham’s peace. He has found his home with You and all his worldly troubles have ended. Amen.”

“Amen,” I said and started to rise.

But when I let go of Sylvia’s hand she seemed to go limp and had to catch herself to keep from falling.

I grasped her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be okay. With all the preparations today, I forgot my blood pressure medicine. Guess that was a mistake. If you could just help me up?”

Supporting her by the elbow, I got her back on her feet.

“Do you need a drink of water? Or maybe I should tell Megan you’re not feeling well?”

“No,” she said adamantly, glancing over at her daughter, who was seated with Graham’s drinking buddies. “You must not tell Megan anything. If you could take me home for my medicine, I’d also have an opportunity to talk to you in private.”

Another secret conversation with one of the family? What would I find out from her that I didn’t already know? “What’s this about?” I asked.

She glanced around. “We’ll talk at my house.”

Holt and Roxanne must have noticed Sylvia’s near fall because they came over to us with concern in their eyes.

“Are you all right, Aunt Sylvia? You look upset,” Roxanne said.

“I forgot my medicine, but Abby has offered to take me home so I can get in a dose before I keel over. Can you handle the guests?”

“Certainly. I’m doing fine with Holt’s support.” Roxanne lifted her chin. “This is my father’s visitation and therefore my responsibility.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And you’ve been doing a stellar job. Tell Megan where I’ve gone if she asks.”

Holt, looking a little uncomfortable, said, “Abby just arrived. Why don’t I drive you home, Mrs. Beadford?”

I was guessing hosting a visitation with Roxanne was not his idea of fun.

He looked at me. “I need to talk shop with Sylvia anyway, Abby. She’s got my nose to the grindstone at work these days, but she’ll be a great boss. She’s obviously learned a lot from James over the past twenty years.”

So Sylvia had taken over at Beadford Oil Suppliers. That must have been a disappointment to poor Holt. And now he was reduced to kissing her butt, just as he’d probably done with James Beadford. But then, he needed the money, according to Quinn, so he’d better be on his best behavior.

I closed my eyes. Oh my God, I’m calling her Quinn. This is too scary.

Sylvia said, “Holt, I’d prefer you stay here in case any of our clients come by to pay their respects. I think that’s what James would have wanted.”

“You’re probably right,” Holt said. “But I’d be glad to drive to your house while you stay here. If you tell me where the medicine is, I’ll bring it here.”

“No, no. That’s not necessary. Abby doesn’t mind, do you?” she said.

“Not at all,” I answered.

We left then, and I tried a few prompts to get a hint what this was about on the short drive, but Sylvia changed the subject. We were going to do this her way; that much was obvious.